3. Bud

"There's a guy next door!"I shouted excitedly as I rushed back into the shop.

Maggie was up a ladder running a paint roller over the last white patches on the ceiling, Mitch and Gage were up another ladder trying to fix the chandelier in place, while Aunt Bea and Ginny had made their own mini production line with Ginny arranging flowers in buckets as Bea cast her judgment on each effort with a thumbs up or down like a Roman empress at the colosseum.

The moment I blurted my news, everyone looked.

"Really?" asked Mitch.

"Already?" asked Gage.

"How handsome on a scale of one to ten?" asked Bea.

Without even realizing it, I jumped straight to the third question. "Definitely a nine-and-a-half." Before quickly adding, "Oh, not that I rate guys. Everybody knows I'm not into guys, right?"

I saw Bea cast an eye in Gage's direction. "Mmmm, I wonder where I've heard that before."

Thankfully Maggie changed the subject by falling off her ladder in excitement. "Bud, you got a neighbor? I wanna see, I wanna see, I wanna… ow, my fucking back!"

"Child, let me help you up." Bea stepped quickly over to Maggie and helped her up. "Are you alright, sweetie? How much does it hurt on a scale of one to ten?"

"Eight," Maggie said, limping to the nearest chair. "It's definitely an eight."

Bea clapped to get everyone's attention. "Alrighty then, is there anything else that needs rating?"

Ginny's hand went straight up. "I wanna give my desperate urge to find out everything there is to know about Bud's new neighbor an unequivocal ten out of ten!"

Bea gave an empress-like thumbs up. "Good use of the word ‘unequivocal' and good use of the rating system, young lady, and although I would normally reserve the term ‘desperate urge' for another time and place, in this instance, I too want to know absolutely everything about Mister Right Next Door… right now. So, who's on my welcoming committee?"

This time Ginny shot two hands in the air. "Me! Me! Me!"

Maggie wriggled excitedly in her chair. "Me! Me! Ow my fucking back! Me!"

"If it's all the same to you guys, I think Mitch and I will keep working on this chandelier," Gage said.

"Yeah, before we drop it and let it smash into a gazillion pieces," added Mitch, grunting as he tried to drill in another screw.

Bea looked at me. "Well, Bud? Are you staying to help the boys? Or are you curious to see what nine-and-a-half looks like up close?"

I felt my face ignite once more. "I guess it's the neighborly thing to do, right?"

"Let's do this!" exclaimed Maggie, before easing herself very slowly out of her chair.

Bea took the lead along the pavement to Mr. Flannery's old bakery. I followed behind pushing Ginny's chair, while Maggie hobbled along several steps behind us.

When we got to the door, Bea turned to address us in a quiet voice. "Now remember, children, best behavior. No swearing, no staring and no inappropriate questions."

Maggie raised her hand. "I think I need an example of an appropriate and an inappropriate question. Just so I know where the bar is."

"Well, let me see. An appropriate question would be, ‘I like your shoes, where did you find such treasures?' An inappropriate question would be, ‘Can those shoes get any uglier? Who dresses you, a monkey?' Now, do you see the difference between the two, Maggie?"

"Got it. No questions about monkeys."

"Close enough." Bea turned to me and straightened my paint-splattered T-shirt by the shoulders and brushed off the sawdust. "Ready to make a good first impression?"

"Yup." I nodded, even though the butterflies were flitting around on the inside.

Bea turned to the door and gave a firm but friendly knock.

We stood in silence waiting for an answer.

Nothing happened, so Bea knocked again, a little louder this time.

Maggie started to jig up and down on the spot. "God, the excitement is killing me. I think I have to pee."

"Hold it in, sugar. I'm sure he'll answer in just a moment."

A moment passed and still nothing.

Bea knocked again, the firm and friendly knock replaced by simply a firm one this time.

When there was still no response, she called through the door, "Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?"

Maggie jigged about even more. "Oooh, where is he?"

I decided to step over to the window and take a peek inside.

The bakery was a similar setup to the flower shop, with the downstairs space dedicated to the retail area while a set of stairs led to a private apartment on the second floor. As I peered through the glass, I could see all the chairs and tables that Mr. Flannery had left stacked inside on his departure. I could see the counter with its rows of empty jars and an open cash register. Behind that were the display shelves where freshly baked bread once sat, and beyond that were two industrial-sized ovens. Aside from that, the only other thing I saw were some fancy designer suitcases scattered across the floor, the same ones that I saw being yanked inside when I went to wave at my new neighbor.

"There's no sign of anyone inside."

"Maybe he needed to go to the bathroom," Ginny said.

"He's not the only one! Look out, people, this dam's about to burst!" With a shove and absolutely no sign of an injured back, Maggie pushed past us all to race back to the flower shop.

"Well, I guess our mystery neighbor will continue to be a mystery," said Bea. "I'm sure he'll venture out sooner rather than later. Come on, children, time to return to our chores. We have a flower shop to open."