6. Lennie

6

LENNIE

W ell, that settles it. The guy next door is off-limits. Completely and totally, which is fine with me. It’s fine. Everything is fine. Really, it is. I’m trying to convince myself more than I realistically should, but whatever. My choices in the past regarding a man still make my skin crawl. I got back to digging and pulling at the weeds, disregarding the need for garden gloves. The prickly weeds are currently tearing up my hands and wrists, but I refuse to get up from my perch. I’ve come to realize I enjoy working in the yard more than I thought I would. There’s a slight breeze, the sun is shining, and I can just let my thoughts carry me away.

“Lennon, you want to come in and check on the progress?” Momma Catherine comes out to the porch to ask. After I cleaned up earlier, we took two vehicles to the thrift store. Poppa Russell in a truck, us girls in my car, Samantha. Which much to Minnie’s dismay is running even though she doesn’t look that great anymore. When it was suggested to take two cars, I looked back and forth between them in confusion. I should have known better, though. Shanghaied. That’s the term I heard Trey use, and he’s absolutely right where his mom is concerned. We went to the hardware store, where they bought all the paint and supplies, Russell slipping his credit card into the slot before I could. He’s as bad as his wife.

We then looked at the furniture sets. It took a solid twenty minutes until I finally relented, allowing them to buy way more than we originally spoke about. It seems to be a common recurrence since they came down here in the first place. From there, Russell came home while we went grocery shopping. Where once again, Catherine paid for everything. I felt bad, still do, realistically, but every time I’d insist that I could float the bill, they only shook their heads.

“Sure thing.” I drop the weed into the pile beside my hip, stand up, and wipe my dirty hands together to shake off the dirt. I’m going to need another shower after working in the yard twice today. I wipe the sweat off my brow with my forearm and head up the stairs.

“I want to make sure you like the colors before we get started.” When we got back, they shooed me outside, telling me that three people in my small master bedroom was one too many. I didn’t think they’d get started on it today. I figured they’d tape it off and clear the area. I guess I figured wrong.

“Momma Catherine,” I say with exasperation.

“Hush, we’re not old and feeble. Once we make sure you like the color, we’ll work on your bedroom, so once it’s dry, your room will be done.” I look over my shoulder before heading inside, catching my neighbor’s attention again. He’s carrying another armful of bags inside the house. Clearly, we both had the same agenda today, judging by the grocery store’s name emblazoned on the bag.

This time, he sends a smile my way, and I’m stunned for a moment. I give him one in return, though I’m sure it’s awkward.

“Lennie, are you coming?” I’m shaken out of my stupor.

“Yep!” I hustle through the entryway, close the door behind me, and move toward the bedroom.

“Hey, what did you say my neighbor’s name is?” I ask Russell when I’m at the doorway. The color on the wall is absolutely stunning, a deep shade of mauve, and I’m absolutely in awe. “Holy crap, never did I think it would look this amazing,” I say before he can answer my question. This isn’t just a small strip painted either; it’s nearly the whole wall done where my bed will be. The dark walnut four-poster bed with intricate detailing is really going to pop.

“Asher. He’s a firefighter. Works locally and seems like an all-around good fella,” Russell says with a note of pride in his voice. It’s usually Catherine who’s the matchmaker, or so says the gossip given to me from Minnie. I’m wondering if it isn’t actually the man of the family.

“It’s beautiful. Now I think we should paint the ceilings, too. What are your thoughts?” Catherine interjects. The ceilings are eight feet tall throughout the entire house. Usually, you’d be worried about the dark color making it seem like it would be too closed off, yet given the number of windows throughout, I think it would really work.

“I haven’t met him yet, only seen him a few times now. I’ll have to walk over once the dust has settled.” Russell grins at my response.

“Well, I most certainly approve.” I look from the walls to Momma Catherine, my eyes bulging out of their sockets. The ink on my divorce papers is barely dry. It might have been months in the making, living, sleeping, and eating alone. Still.

What would people say?

Am I even healed enough to contemplate something romantic?

And last of all, not least, is would I want to get entangled with my next-door neighbor?

“I’m old, not dead, honey. I’ve got boys. All of them are taken, or I’d have set you up with one of them. Though, I do love my girls, too, so maybe not. Anyways, I think it’d be a great idea if you walked over there and said hello.” She walks toward the brush and paint bucket. Russel anticipates her move and holds on to the small stepladder as she goes about showing me what the ceiling would look like with one thick stroke.

“We’ll see. I’m thinking he’s taken. A little girl is with him, and I heard them talk about her mom.” I shrug my shoulders.

“Still wouldn’t hurt, sugar,” Russel says as his hand holds Catherine’s hip.

“All one color, right?” She looks down at me.

“Yes, especially in this room. The other living areas I think we’ll stick with the cream color for walls and ceilings.” As much as I’d love a moodier color, I’m worried I’ll feel claustrophobic once all the furniture is in place .

“I agree. The other bedroom you could do something like this, if you want.” My room is the only one I splurged on, wanting to go with a different color from the soft cream, minus a yellow undertone, in order for it not to clash with the original wood throughout the house.

“Maybe. For now, I’d just do what needs to be done. I can always go back later.” Everyone agrees. I dive in to help them work, no matter what they say. Two people rolling and one cutting in will surely cut the time in half.

“I can go along with that,” Russel says, going about getting his roller that’s coated in paint. I follow his lead, doing the same minus the extension part. I’ll go low, he can do the higher parts, and Catherine can cut in the room. Our time is dwindling down, and I’d love nothing more than for them to get back to their hotel at an earlier time than last night. As for me, I’m going to start working on the rest of the place tonight. I’m still getting used to all the noises in the house, meaning sleep is not coming easily. I’d much rather work than spend my time in a bed tossing and turning. The last time I moved, it took me nearly a week to get adjusted. I really don’t want it to take that long this time around. Plus, in a few short days, I’ll be working an eight-to-five Monday-through-Friday job, and I’ll need my sleep to stay sharp as a tack.

I still don’t know what I was thinking.

New town.

New house.

New job.

“So, about the new neighbor. When will you introduce yourself?” Catherine asks when I’m nearly done rolling the bottom half of one wall. The only background noises are the soft rock and roll music coming from the radio and the whir of brushes and rolls.

“That didn’t take you long, honey,” Russell says while continuing painting.

“Smooth, Momma Catherine, very, very smooth.” I have to stop my painting as my shoulders quake with laughter.

“Well, when are you?” she questions again.

“Obviously not right now,” I answer.

“Why not? There’s no time like the present,” she offers.

“Well, there are a few reasons. One, I stink. Two, I’m painting. Three, there’s a little girl there, and while she may be his daughter or not, the last thing I want to do is interrupt their time together.”

“Makes sense to me. There’s always tomorrow, Lennie.” Russell nods, then returns to his task.

“Fine, fine. I won’t push.” The man and I snort at the same time. Catherine absolutely will, and if they come over tomorrow and I haven’t marched my booty next door, she’ll ask me why again. Then probably walk over there herself, dragging me along with her. Yep, I’ll have to head over tomorrow morning, for sure.