Page 7 of Fragile Touch (Fragile 1)
A cat jumped onto the sofa. She felt her favorite quilt softly covering her legs.
She opened one eye and looked straight ahead.
There was a guy. In her house. Holding her book.
“Good morning,” he said. He looked way too happy. It irritated her.
“Shit. What time is it?”
“Noon-thirty. You’ve been out for almost four hours.”
Closing her eyes again, she tried to corral her thoughts. This isn’t happening. Not this guy. Anyone but this guy.
“Do you have a mom or grandmother living here, too?”
“What gives you that idea?”
“Someone left this long, pissy note on my door saying to quiet down, and I know it wasn’t from Taylor on the other side of me, because he was at my party.”
“Why don’t you think it was from me?”
“Well, for starters, you don’t look as old as that note sounded.”
Lillian scowled.
“Other than that, I’ve only seen you a couple of times, and you’ve always looked like you could use a good party to loosen up. You look stressed.” He chuckled. “I guess you party hard by yourself over here. That’s a pretty hardcore hangover you’ve got.”
Please, this can’t be real.
“Are you feeling better?” He flashed a smile, like he had known her for a long time.
“Why are you here? We’ve never even met before.”
“You would rather I’d left you on the ground earlier?”
I don’t really remember being on the ground, she thought, trying to recall any clear details about that morning.
“By the way, those are my prized bushes you threw up in.”
“I know,” she growled. “No one would shut up about them after you won that stupid award.”
“It was a lot of throw-up.”
“Sorry, I’ll turn it down a few notches next time and vomit in my own award-winning bushes.”
Finally his giddy smile faded. “You know, maybe if you took better care of your own yard, you’d understand how it makes you feel better. Then you’d be able to appreciate the hard work that other people put into the first visible part of their homes.”
“My yard isn’t that bad.”
“Not anymore,” he replied shortly. “I helped you out while you were sleeping off your hangover.”
Lillian’s thoughts stopped for a moment as she tried to process what her neighbor just said. Helped out? With a grunt, she pushed herself off the couch and walked to the front door. She pulled up the blinds; the bright noon sun hit her in the face and she shielded her eyes like a vampire. Squinting, she peered outside.
Her front yard looked like a different place.
The grass was trimmed so neatly it looked more like a fresh green carpet than grass. Her trees and shrubs no longer had scraggly, wild-hair limbs poking out from all angles. Everything looked healthier and perkier.
Several puddles were spread across the porch floor. She lifted her eyes and saw her hanging plants had water droplets clinging to the leaves. He’d even watered those.
