She’s completely entered stare-down mode from her spot on the other side of the hedgerow, the handle of an unknown gardening tool visible now—as if she’s wielding a pitchfork to stab me with if I so much as go near her.
“Who are you?”
Who am I? Who isshe? Jeez, this broad is worse than my grandmother Sissy, who used to barrel race in the rodeo. Tough as nails my grandma was… not as thorny as this woman.
“Just the handyman fixing the deck, ma’am.” I shoot her a megawatt smile guaranteed to thaw her frozen exterior.
The end of her rake makes an appearance.
A warning.
“Do you need anything, ma’am?”
“Don’t worry about me—you worry about that porch for Ms. Kettner and no funny business or I’m calling the cops.” Her eyes are narrowed.
Wouldn’t the cops be stoked to find me back here, mending this railing? Bet they’d take a few selfies.
I bet she is.
“No worries, ma’am. I won’t be making any noise this afternoon.”
“I’m watching you.” I hear her unhappyhmphas she stands there. “My grandson is in the military.”
“I thank him for his service.”
’Cause what else is there to say?
After a few more awkward moments, Granny moves on, tiny head and gray hair disappearing from sight. No doubt she’ll be back. Probably gonna go spy on me from her second story window.
And she thinks I’m the creeper here?
Pfft.
Whatever granny…
The back door opens.
Soft footsteps come closer.
“Here. I made you some lemonade.” A plate gets set nearby, along with a tall glass of something sweet. “And cookies.”
Cookies?
She made lemonade and cookies?
Hot damn.
Being roommates with Miss Goody Two-Shoes has its perks. She can’t stop herself from taking care of me whether she wants to or not; food is her love language. Er, how she expresses herself and takes care of people is what I meant…
“Thanks.” I steal a cookie from the plate; it’s still warm, the center chocolatey goodness when I bite in. Fuck, this is good. I chase it down with lemonade—the two don’t go together, but somehow, it works. Swallow.
Wipe my mouth with the back of my shirtsleeve. “You missed the old lady fangirling at me from over the fence.”
Posey is silent for a few seconds. “Mrs. Galvin?”
Is that her name? “Yup, she was gawkin’ over at me. Told me she’d call the cops if I did anything sketchy.”
“Mrs. Galvin?”