Two

TWO

Mia

"Are you okay?"

My shoulders slumped as I dropped my head back and let out a sigh. Following a beat of tense silence, I righted myself, turned around, and sent a look of defeat in my coworker's direction. "Is it that noticeable?"

Concern littered Jamie's features. "What's going on? I thought you were going to come in here bouncing off the walls with excitement like you were on Friday when you left."

Nodding as I walked over and sat down at the table in the room, I said, "I know. Me, too."

Jamie sat down across from me. "Is something wrong with the house? Don't tell me you moved in and found something awful that needs to be repaired already. You had an inspection done, didn't you?"

"I did. And there's nothing wrong with the house. Honestly, I think it's horrible that you can see how awful I'm doing right now, because there's technically nothing wrong."

Confusion washed over her expression. "I don't understand."

That made two of us.

It was Monday morning, my first day back at work since moving into my new house over the weekend, and it was not all I had expected it to be.

Normally, I came into work every day feeling like I was on top of the world, excited about what was ahead, and ready to do my job. I never dreaded Mondays, and I thoroughly enjoyed the work I did every day.

I worked as a speech and language pathologist at a pediatric therapy center in Charter Oak called Backyard Treehouse. Backyard Treehouse offered services to children struggling with a wide variety of issues. I was one of the two people who provided speech therapy to the kids, but we also had occupational and food therapy services available as well.

I felt tremendously rewarded by the work that I did, especially whenever a kid had a breakthrough in therapy. Jamie could easily understand that part of it for me, because she was one of the occupational therapists, and she experienced those same milestones on a regular basis with the kids she helped, too. We didn't choose to get into this line of work for nothing—it was such a fulfilling career.

Not only did I love the work that I did each day, but I adored my coworkers, too. We'd all become great friends over the past couple of years, so mixing the work I did with the people surrounding me made Backyard Treehouse a place I loved being.

That's why it made no sense that I woke up wishing I hadn't needed to come into work today.

"I'm just as confused as you, Jamie," I confessed. "I don't know what it is, but this move wiped everything out of me. My brother came down on Saturday and helped me get all the big stuff situated once the movers transported it to the new house. We then unpacked a couple of boxes before he left to head back home. Todd was over yesterday, and we spent a good chunk of the day trying to get through the remainder of the boxes. We got most of it done, but I never expected it was going to take this much out of me."

Suddenly, it was like a light switch had been flipped on inside Jamie's head. Understanding seemed to have dawned, and the stress and worry I'd seen in her just moments ago were no longer there. "Oh, I'm so glad to hear you say that. My cousin and her husband moved into their new home about seven or eight months ago, and she had the same thing happen. If I recall correctly, it took her a solid month or two to get back to feeling normal. Apparently, it's a common thing for some people to experience after they move. There are others who carry on like nothing happened, so it seems you're just one of the unlucky ones. It'd probably be the same for me if I were in your shoes."

My eyes widened.

As much as I was relieved to hear that what I was feeling wasn't unusual, I didn't know how I'd manage to deal with feeling like this for another month or two. I didn't think I was going to make it through the week successfully. "What am I going to do?"

She shrugged and suggested, "Why don't you take a week off and try to catch up on some rest while you adjust to your new home? You know I'd never not want you here, and no offense, because you know I think you are beautiful, but you look dead on your feet right now."

I shook my head. "No. No, I don't want to do that. I'm making some real progress with so many of my kids that have been coming in over the last few weeks. I don't want to disrupt that for them, especially since they've got the holiday breaks coming up and won't be getting the support they might usually have while in school."

Just then, Freya popped her head in and said, "Good morning, ladies."

"Morning, Freya," Jamie returned.

Freya's eyes fell on me, and before I could say anything, she asked, "Are you okay?"

I audibly sighed. "Just exhausted from the move this weekend."

"Oh, that's right. How's the new house?"

A smile spread across my face. I might have been tired, but I wouldn't have changed being where I was for anything. "It's wonderful. Maybe after I catch up on sleep, make it through the holidays, and get myself completely settled, I can have all of you over for a little party."

"That sounds like fun. I'm up for it," Freya declared. "Unfortunately, we have to work now, and both of your first appointments for the day have arrived."

With that, Jamie and I both stood and followed Freya out of the room. It was time to get to work, and I was grateful for that. Because at least I could count on the kids who came in to see me to keep me from falling asleep in the middle of the day.

Hours later, I considered it a win when I'd finished my day at work without even needing to doze off on my lunch break. The extra calories I'd burned over the weekend became obvious then, because I ate ravenously, like I hadn't had a meal in weeks.

As I drove home, I thought about all the ways this move had impacted my life. While there were some downsides to it—most notable being the exhaustion—I believed the positives made it all worth it.

And when I finally turned onto my street and spotted my house a couple hundred feet away, any of the negativity I felt melted away. This was what I'd been working so hard for, and I'd finally made it happen.

It was only when I got closer that I realized there was a truck parked right at the end of the driveway to my neighbor's house.

Brock must have just gotten home from somewhere, because when I made the turn into my driveway and came to a stop, so I could grab my mail, I realized his truck was running, and he was doing the same.

I got out, moved toward my mailbox, and waved. "Hi, Brock. How are you?"

He smiled and waved back. "I'm doing well, Mia. How are you?"

"Great."

I pulled the mail out of my mailbox and walked in Brock's direction. I might have had a boyfriend, but that didn't mean I couldn't give credit where it was due. Brock was a handsome guy. He was tall—much taller than me. He was wearing a beanie on his head now, but when I'd introduced myself to him over the weekend, he hadn't been wearing a hat. His hair was a very light brown with bits of blonde in it. It was buzzed short around the back and sides, but straight, quite a bit longer, and slightly unruly on top. It was as though he'd put some product in his palms that morning and ran his fingers through it haphazardly. It was a great look for him.

Brock's eyes were the color of whiskey, and there'd been a moment where the corners had crinkled, and his irises had sparkled on Saturday when he laughed at something I said. He wore a full beard that was clipped close and maintained. I didn't suspect he let it get out of control.

And although he was bundled up in a thick winter jacket now, he had been wearing a T-shirt when I met him on the weekend. The man was built solid. He looked strong, but not in the way that I thought he'd enter any powerlifting contests any time soon. He simply looked like he ate well, could lift heavy things, and would likely win in a bar brawl.

Of course, I didn't think that would be anything I'd witness any time soon or ever. Because to top it all off, Brock was a really nice guy. Not only had he not shut the door in my face when I went to introduce myself to him, but he also took the time to tell me what he did and offered to help me move anything if I needed it.

As soon as I came to a stop in front of him, he asked, "Just getting back from work?"

I nodded. "Yep."

"If you don't mind me asking, what do you do?"

"I'm a speech and language pathologist at Backyard Treehouse. We work with kids who struggle in different areas, and I work with them on speech and language," I explained. "So, some kids have trouble with speech where they have a tough time with actually forming the words and sounds, but I have others that struggle with pragmatic language, which just means they struggle to understand the flow of conversation to be able to execute it well."

Brock's brows shot up in surprise. "Wow. That sounds like a lot."

I shrugged. "Not so much. I love the work I do, and if you haven't already noticed, I have no problem with conversation at all."

He chuckled and said, "Yeah, I can see that."

"Sorry," I murmured.

"Don't be. I think it's great."

I smiled brightly at him, feeling thankful I had such a nice guy living next door to me. "Thanks. So, what about you? Out running errands today?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Same as you. I'm just getting home from work."

My brows pulled together. "What?"

"It surprises you that I work?"

"No. No, of course not. It's just that… well, I thought you worked from home," I said.

Brock laughed again, and I wondered if the redness I saw on his cheeks was the result of being in the cold or something else. "I only work from my garage on the weekends," he explained. "That's sort of a side gig I have."

"Oh, wow. So, what do you do during the week?"

"I'm a CNC machinist for a machine shop here in Charter Oak. I run five different machines in the shop, which are almost constantly running, producing a wide variety of products ranging from automotive part components to specialty hardware for construction. There's a whole lot in between and around that."

"So, it's kind of like what you do here at home, then?" I pressed.

"Yes and no. It's machining, so it's still the same in that sense, but what I do at my regular job is mostly to fulfill bulk orders from large contracts that are being shipped all over the place. The stuff I do here is generally one-off custom stuff for locals who are usually in a bind."

"That's great. You must love what you do, which I think is the best way to be. I feel the same about my job."

"I can't say I disagree. How's the unpacking coming along?"

I glanced briefly at my house before returning my attention to Brock. "It's a very slow, exhausting process. I told you I love my job, but I was so tired at work today. I don't even know how I'm going to muster up the strength to make dinner tonight."

A silence had fallen between us, but Brock's eyes were roaming over my face as something was working behind his gaze. A beat later, he said, "Listen, it's cold out, and we've both just gotten home from work. You just said you're exhausted. If you really don't want to cook but can muster up the strength to have some conversation, I'd be more than happy to have you over for din?—"

Brock stopped speaking when his attention was pulled away from me and out into the street just a few feet away, where a car had started to turn into my driveway.

Todd had arrived.

He was attempting to speak to me through the windshield, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. And since I wanted to introduce him to Brock, I waved at him to get out of the car.

Todd got out, slammed his car door, and said, "Can you pull your car in, Mia? I can't get in the driveway."

"Come here," I urged him. "I want to introduce you to my new neighbor."

It was then Todd noticed Brock and made his approach. Once he made it to where Brock and I were standing, I said, "Todd, this is Brock. He lives next door to me here. Brock, this is my boyfriend, Todd."

For the first time since Todd arrived, I'd returned my attention to Brock, and I noticed something different about him. It was as though he'd pulled a mask on, because he wasn't nearly as happy as he'd been before. That's when it dawned on me that he had just been about to ask me to join him for dinner.

Shaking off whatever thoughts were running through his mind, he extended his hand to Todd, who begrudgingly shook it. "It's nice to meet you, Brock," Todd said.

Brock simply offered a nod in return.

Yep.

He was not the same guy he'd been on Saturday or even just moments ago, and I wondered why that was.

Maybe I could turn it around. "Todd and I are going to be working on decorating the house this coming weekend in preparation for Christmas. I promise we'll keep it tasteful and won't be like Clark Griswold by lighting up the whole neighborhood."

"It's not my place to tell you how the two of you decorate your home," Brock said.

Todd grunted. "You mean her home." When Brock lifted his gaze from mine and focused on Todd, my boyfriend revealed, "Mia refused to buy the house with me. She had to prove she could do it all on her own."

Even though it was getting dark, I worried Brock would see the flush creep over my face. I wanted to defend myself, but I didn't think this was the time or place to do it.

Todd turned his attention to me and said, "Babe, I hope you've got dinner started. I'm starved."

I shook my head. "Not yet. I just got home a few minutes ago, and I was just saying how exhausted I am. I'm really not up for cooking tonight."

Jerking his head to the side, he suggested, "Oh, come on. I don't want to order takeout. I want a home-cooked meal. Why don't you pull the car forward, so I can do the same? Then we can get inside, and you can make dinner right away."

Swallowing hard, feeling even more embarrassed that he didn't seem to have a problem with speaking to me like he was in front of Brock, I pressed my lips together. I wasn't going to humiliate myself further by telling Todd what I really thought of his plan. Plus, I was too tired for the fight that I knew would ensue, so I simply dipped my chin.

Todd turned and walked off toward his car.

I returned my attention to Brock again and said, "I'm sorry. He probably had a bad day at work. He's typically much more friendly."

Brock's eyes narrowed for just a moment before he said, "You don't need to apologize to me for someone else's actions, Mia."

Even still, I sent an apologetic look his way. "Right. Well, it was nice to talk to you."

"Yeah. You, too."

I could feel the cold down to my bones that had nothing to do with the weather. Everything that had been so warm and inviting about Brock was gone. I didn't like the way it made me feel and wanted to address it.

But when Todd honked the horn, and I jumped, I figured I'd better leave it alone for now.

"Have a good night, Brock."

"Thanks. You, too."

Before I could say anything else, Brock turned and walked away.

I had no choice but to do the same.

And when I finally made it inside and wanted to avoid an argument, I decided to just push through and make dinner. But I did it wondering what Brock would have made if I'd been able to accept his invitation.