Page 4 of Fragile Touch (Fragile 1)
Another tremor loosened the plate and she dove forward, catching it just before it fell onto the fireplace mantel.
“If I wasn’t so angry, rrrghh!” she yelled at the cats. “I just pulled a ninja move! To save a plate! This guy’s so going down.”
A million things to write in the letter whirled through her mind as she stomped back to the writing desk, and she fought to avoid exploding on paper. “How can I say this concisely?” She tried to make a mental list of the most important things she needed to tell him, but that lasted about ten seconds. “Screw conciseness!” she shouted, banging her fist on the desk. “This is ridiculous!”
Lillian grabbed a pen.
PLEASE. QUIET. DOWN.
Your music made my great-great-grandmother’s plate come loose from the wall and I almost lost it forever.
My cats and I can’t sleep. My work is suffering because I can’t sleep.
I have a health condition that requires me to be as stress-free as possible.
I’m all for having fun, but seriously, man, this is too much.
If I weren’t this nice, I would call the neighborhood association on you, or worse, the police. I mean, what the heck kind of sound system is that loud? Did you get it off the black market or something? It’s insane!!
Keep having fun, but remember there’s a neighbor next door who has a different weekend schedule than you.
Also, I’m so tired of hearing the Top 40. None of those songs are even good. At least find some decent music for your (quieter) parties.
Please don’t make me have to write this again.
Feeling a little better, she threw the pen into its jar. Three sticky notes’ worth of ranting and she didn’t regret one word.
“Okay, the part about you two not being able to sleep is sort of a lie. Also, the weekend schedule.” She waved at the cats, who were sitting in front of the food bowl, watching her intently. “I do work from home on Saturdays and Sundays. Who cares, anyway? I think he’ll get the point. If this isn’t straightforward enough, he’s totally hopeless.”
Gray Cat meowed.
“My great-great-grandmother’s plate! I know!” She looked at the ceiling and let out a groan. “Why does it have to be like this?”
The cats paced around the bag of food and stared at her, their eyes as wide as saucers.
“I’ll feed you after I get back. I’ve got to go take care of this for us.” Lillian snatched up the notes and walked out the front door. She stopped before going down the steps.
“Shoes,” she muttered. “There’s no telling what kind of fluids are on that front porch.” She slipped on her old sandals and marched down. The rain hit her and she let out a string of curses before ducking back under the porch. Growling, she grabbed an umbrella inside the foyer and battled with it for a minute before it finally opened.
“Is that all you’ve got?” she shouted at the sky. When there was no response, she proceeded into the yard. The trees behind her house swayed violently; the storm wasn’t going to let up anytime soon.
There used to be a tiny pathway between the bushes on the edge of her yard and next door’s. When this garden diva guy moved in, that was the first thing he covered up with the scarily symmetrical box bushes. That little shortcut would have been great right now.
Do I cut through the bushes or walk all the way to the street and back through his yard? If she did the latter, maybe someone would see her. His front lights were super bright, and from here she could see the rooms inside were full of people dancing. The music was louder out here, obviously, but she wasn’t expecting there to be this huge of a difference in the volume.
Ridiculous. She studied the creepy square shrubs and couldn’t find even a small gap in them. Especially with how hard the rain was pouring down, there was no way she could get through without soaking her legs.
“If anyone comes out and tries to talk to me,” she grumbled as she circled back around into his yard, “I’m not going to say anything to them. I’m not even going to look at them. And if it’s the owner, I’m just going to shove the note into his hands and get back home as fast as I can!”
With no hesitation, she climbed his steps and stuck the notes onto his front door with a little piece of tape. Satisfied, she crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue at the door. Her ears buzzed from the loud music.
Someone suddenly started singing at the top of their lungs right behind the door, and she flew back down the steps. “Seriously? Why are drunk people so annoying?”
Just as she reached her porch, his front door flew open and a guy and a girl spilled out, obviously intoxicated out of their minds. Trying to walk, they bumped against a chair and fell onto the porch, laughing like idiots.
With a gagging noise, Lillian shook off her umbrella and retreated into her warm, safe house. This was the first time she had gone outside during one of those parties, and suddenly the noise didn’t seem nearly as bad as before. After a few minutes, though, it wore on her nerves again.
She lay down her yoga mat on the floor of her bedroom and did some deep breathing meditations to calm down. It didn’t work, but made her feel like she had done something proactive.
