Page 45 of By the Letter

“I want to know how to do all those things.” I straightened my shoulders. “I was too complacent with Frank, letting him take care of me, and here I am, almost thirty and can barely change a light bulb or cook an edible dinner.”

Bea tipped her chin. “You deserved everything Frank gave you, and let’s be real, babe: you took care of that man more than he took care of you.”

I waved her off. “I don’t want to talk about him now. What’s done is done. This is a fresh start. I think I’ll look into taking the class you took.”

Bea looked like she had more to say—she always did—but she nodded and promised to send me the information for the class.

Jake and Jeremy finished soon after that. I tried to convince everyone to stay for dinner to thank them for all their help today, but Nellie had exhausted herself with all the running around, so she was a little cranky. Jeremy had to get home to his wife, and Bea had a waitressing shift. That left me alone in my new house.

I walked the creaky floors, envisioning the art I’d hang on the walls and what furniture I needed to buy to make it feel like it was truly mine. With Bea on one side of me and Bev and Donnie on the other, I already felt safe and comfortable here. I’d made this choice quickly, but my gut told me it had been the right one.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when my doorbell rang. Bea must’ve forgotten something. Or maybe Bev was coming back for her plate.

I checked the camera app on my phone, and it wasn’t Bea or Bev. Taking up more room than he had the right, Roman Wells was pacing back and forth in front of my door. His wide palm cupped the back of his neck, and though I couldn’t tell, I had a feeling his square jaw was rippling and tight the way it had been when I’d left him at Dr. Sharma’s office the day before.

With a slightly shaky hand, I pulled the door open. “Roman…hi.”

Even after all this time and what we’d shared, he still made me nervous. One day, I’d be comfortable with him, but I wasn’t close to there yet. If he were a little smaller, a smidge less handsome, I might’ve been able to behave like the grown woman I was and not a stuttering tween.

“Shira.” His gaze swept over me from the tips of my toes to my hair piled on the top of my head. He had developed a habit of doing this, and it always made me feel naked, even wearing loose pajama pants, a tank, and a cardigan. “The house next door is black.”

I stuck my head out to peer at Bea’s house. Someone had painted the brick black a long time ago, and Bea had rolled with it, installing a matching swing on the porch and a gothic-looking fountain in the tiny, fenced-in front yard. It was the perfect house for her.

“That’s where Bea lives.”

He huffed, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. “It suits her.”

“It does,” I agreed. “A little scary on the outside and cute and sweet on the inside—just like her.”

He turned his attention back to me and cocked his head to look beyond me into my house. “Think I could come in?”

“Oh, sure.” I backed up to open the door and stumbled over my own feet. Luckily, I was holding onto the knob, so I didn’t go tumbling. “There’s not much to see yet. I just moved in today.”

“I don’t need to be entertained. I’d like to see the house.” His lips rolled over his teeth, then he pushed out, “The neighborhood isn’t as horrible as I’d pictured. I do have misgivings about the mission being four blocks away, though.”

“There’s a sweet park only a block away,” I retorted.

I didn’t look at unhoused people the same way a lot of people did. Once upon a time, my mother and I had lived in her car then a shelter. I understood being unhoused wasn’t a character deficit. Sure, some people living on the streets couldbe violent, but there were violent billionaires too. I refused to judge someone I didn’t know because of their housing situation. Besides, Bea knew this neighborhood well, and I trusted her judgment. If she felt safe here, so did I.

“Hmmm.” Roman stuffed his hands in his pockets, but not before I saw his fingers curling into his palms. “Have you met your neighbors on the other side?”

“I have. They’re a nice older couple. They brought me cookies.” I padded to the dining room where I’d left the plate and grabbed a cookie. Whirling around, I waved it at Roman. “Would you like one?”

One beat of hesitation, and he accepted it. The bite he took was as big as he was, demolishing half the cookie at once then putting away the other half seconds later. Something about watching him eat with such vigor made my stomach swoopy and warm. My toes dug into the thick rug under my feet.

“Good cookie.” Roman wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“No. I was considering ordering a pizza.”

“I could go for a pizza.” He took out his phone and started tapping. “Any toppings you don’t like?”

I frowned at him, not that he noticed since he was intent on his screen. I understood why he might have wanted to check out where his child would be living, but I couldn’t comprehend why we would be having dinner together.

“You’re having pizza with me?”

“Toppings, Shira. What do you like or dislike on your pizza?”

“Oh…um, I don’t eat pork. I like lots of vegetables.”

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