Page 23 of Finding Home
“No.”
She groans but lets the dog off her lap. “You’re the worst.”
Opening my front door, I allow Nan to walk in first. I might live in an aggravated state, but I’m still a gentleman. I look down at the dog one more time. He’s a ball of fluff staring at me with what looks like a smile. Which is freaky for a dog. His ears stick straight up in the air as he cocks his head to the side.
“Stay,” I order.
The dog plops down on his belly, his back legs kicking out behind him while he lays flat like a pancake on the porch.
What a weird creature.
“You got nothing in this fridge,” Nan announces as I make my way into the kitchen.
I close my eyes and shake my head.
Is this happening right now?
This damn woman truly thinks she lives here.
“I haven’t had a second to get to the General Store. I have enough stuff to make two sandwiches, though.”
“That will do.” She beams, taking a seat at the counter while I pull out lunch meat and the bread. “How was work today?”
“Work was work,” I answer as I throw together the sandwich for her.
“You consider adding to that menu yet?”
“Nope,” I say, sliding a plate across the island to her.
“You’re a real pleasure to have a conversation with.”
“Yep.”
I take a bite of my sandwich and ignore the topic at hand. When I get home from work, the last thing I want to do is have more conversations. I just had to play nice for hours through the lunch shift, which turned into some of the evening shift.
I’m always professional, but I’m done with that when I get home.
The dog barks excessively on the porch.
“Oh.” Nan jumps from her chair. “Blair must be back.”
Blair.
A scowl involuntarily forms on my face as I hear my neighbor’s name for the first time. Nan rushes to the front door, her excitement palpable. Until now, I hadn’t bothered to learn more about the woman living next door, but hearing her name sends a jolt of surprise through me. It’s not one I expected, but it is a name that would be associated with some uptight, rich girl.
I take one more bite of my sandwich and follow Nan.
Nan is on the steps, waving her down. Whistling and pointing to the dog and then waving her over again before shouting her name. You know, to make sure she gets the point.
Blair notices and starts walking this way.
Great.
Perfect.
More conversation.
It’s getting darker as the minutes pass. The moon reflects off the lake, while the sun hides behind the mountain peaks. It’s not until my porch light illuminates her that I finally get a good look at the woman who’s annoyed me since she moved in. For no other reason than existing.
