Lu-Anne shifts from foot to foot anxiously. “Uh—I should go. Thanks for…”
“Thanks for the pie,” I finish for her when she trails off.
“Right. I hope the renovations keep coming along smoothly.”
“And that I keep up the streak of not resorting to a life of organized crime and murderous intent.”
She gives me a blank stare, but I can see she’s flustered underneath. She’s trying to keep me from seeing beneath her tough façade. She swallows hard, and I watch the sweet movement of her throat and lips. I think she’s going to say something else, but then she turns, leaves her unfinished pie on the table, and makes a quick exit out the front door.
When she leaves, I’m left with a half-eaten blueberry pie and a heck of a lot of silence. That was strange. The whole encounter was strange. Then again, what about this lady isn’t strange? First, she shows up at my door in the middle of the night, claiming that a spider is going to do her in, which I guess was legit. Then, she shows up in my kitchen, thinking I’m going to do her in. Or other people. I’m not sure where she came up with the mob idea, but I can’t help it.
I have to shake my head and laugh it off.
I sit back down in my chair at the table and finish off my pie. Then, I slide Lu-Anne’s half-eaten pie in front of me and eat that too. It’s good pie, and good pie shouldn’t be left to go to waste.
I wrap the rest in the kitchen towel that she’d brought it over in and take out my phone.
I’m not big on texting, especially not now, but I can’t help firing one off to Rob.
Wade: You’re never going to believe what my neighbor thought I was up to!
I’m surprised when he actually answers. Must be a slow day at work, or maybe he’s just watching for my texts because he thinks I’m getting cabin fever over here in suburbia.
Rob: Would this be the hot neighbor lady you were talking about before?
I sigh. I should never have told him about Lu-Anne. Now I’m not going to have any peace. Rob urged me to go for it since it’s the only temporary bright spot I might have, but he has no idea. Not really. He’s never seen Lu-Anne. He’s never met her. She’s gorgeous, but she’s also smart, witty, funny, and strange. Okay, I don’t know that much about her. I might be making some assumptions, but I do know a couple of things.
She hates spiders. She’s beautiful. She’s a great kisser. She bakes a mean pie. She had a special relationship with her grandma, whose house she’s living in. She has a brother who she’s close with, and also a best friend who I haven’t seen come around in a couple of days. She likes antiques. She has a wild imagination and jumps to even wilder conclusions.
I can infer a lot from what I know about her. None of which leaves me to believe I could go for it just like Rob said. I could never use another person for my own entertainment. To keep me entertained. Not the way Rob was suggesting. I’m not about that, and I could never treat Lu-Anne that way. Lu-Anne deserves to be treated with respect.
I wish I were free to take her on a real date. If she’d even have me, which after what just happened ten minutes ago, I’m seriously doubting. But even if she did say yes, there’s no way I can truly take her out. There’s no way I can tell her who I am. I’ve said way too much already. She thought I was a freaking mobster. She doesn’t need to know I’m actually hiding and that I have a hell of a lot of zeroes in my bank account—those zeroes being to the left of the decimal.
Wade: It is, but it’s not like that. Anyway, she let it slip today that she thought I was part of the mob. That I was doing something shady in the house.
Rob: Why the hell would she think that?
Wade: Well, I do have plastic wrap all over the living room. She saw that before I got down to the real construction, and she saw me taking out the folded-up rugs that I ripped out of the house into the backyard.
Rob: Good lord. This chick sounds messed up.
I let out another huff. And my ire spikes at Rob’s tone. I don’t want him to talk about Lu-Anne like that, even if I know he’s just inferring stuff from some pretty vague texts.
Wade: She’s fine. I guess she had her reasons. Anyway, this is suburbia. People here are ultra-paranoid. Maybe, in hindsight, it’s not the best place to hide out.