“Millie!” he calls out. “Do you have a minute?”
Not really. I don’t feel like having a conversation with my neighbor, but I also don’t want to be rude, especially since Jonathan always seems extremely pleasant. I hope whatever he wants to speak to me about will be quick. I’m already feeling extremely stressed out since it took almost an hour for the pharmacy to get my medication ready when I stopped in on the way home.
Jonathan hops off his front porch and sprints across our respective lawns to talk to me. Enzo would hate him walking over the grass, but I’m not about to give him a hard time.
“How are you doing, Millie?” he asks me.
“Oh, fine,” I lie.
He flashes me an apologetic smile. “Listen, we have enjoyed having Nico over helping out these last few weeks, but…”
Oh no, now what?
“Yesterday, he was putting some dishes away for us,” Jonathan says, “and he dropped one of the plates on the floor. It wasn’t a big deal, but he just left it there. He didn’t tell anyone.”
“Oh my God.” I cover my mouth. I’m simultaneously surprised and not at all surprised. “I’m so sorry.”
“Anyway.” Jonathan runs a hand through his thinning light brown hair. “We’re all set with him doing chores around our house to pay off the window. I think it’s better if he stops coming.”
“Right. Sorry. If I owe you anything…”
I hope to God he doesn’t tell me I owe them money. Even though Enzo is getting extra business thanks to Suzette, we are still on a very tight budget.
“It’s fine,” Jonathan says. “Really.”
I look over Jonathan’s shoulder at the house behind him. I see movement from one of the front windows, and I catch a flash of butterscotch hair. It’s Suzette. And she’s observing our interaction, for some reason.
Does she not trust me with her husband?
It occurs to me that this is my chance to give her a taste of her own medicine. She’s been flirting with Enzo since we got here. How would she like it if I do the same with her husband? And while I’m not attracted to Jonathan, there’s nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting, right?
I take a step closer to Jonathan. I tuck a strand of my dark blond hair behind my ear and offer him what I hope is a come-hither smile. It’s been a while since I’ve flirted—I’m a bit out of practice.
“I really appreciate that.” I slide my hand onto Jonathan’s slim shoulder. I don’t squeeze it or do anything suggestive, but I’m hoping it looks that way from the window where Suzette is watching. “You guys have just beenwonderful.”
“Uh, thanks.” Jonathan flashes me an uncomfortable smile, and then he takes a step back from me, out of my reach. He takes a quick look over his shoulder, then glances back at me. “Anyway, you have a good day, Millie.”
And then he runs back into his house as fast as he can, slamming the door behind him.
Wow. That was a quick rejection. Slightly humiliating, if I’m being completely honest.
Jonathan didn’t even play along for a split second. The moment I touched him, he couldn’t get away from me quickly enough. And the first thing he did was check back to make sure Suzette didn’t see anything.
He knew she was watching him.
What is going on at 12 Locust Street? What does Suzette Lowell want from us? It feels like even though we have our shades down, she is always keeping an eye on us.
TWENTY
I’m late getting home from work.
I usually make it out of the hospital by five-ish, and depending on traffic, I am walking in the front door by five thirty. But today was one of those days when nothing went right. We had a patient who was supposed to go home today, but the patient’s daughter suddenly decided that she couldn’t take care of her mother, so I spent the afternoon scrambling to make other plans.
I tried to convince the daughter that she could handle her mother, but she wouldn’t budge. I then called three other family members, hoping one of them could provide a small amount of assistance my patient needed after her heart attack. I called a rehab hospital, but they rejected her insurance. At this point, I’m not sure what will become of this poor woman.
She is such a nice woman too. I would take her home if I could. Of course, I always say that. If I had my way, my entire house would be filled with patients whose families didn’t want to take them home.
In any case, it’s almost six o’clock by the time I pull into the garage. Enzo’s truck is parked in front of the house, so at least he’s home with the kids. Despite the fact that Janice isoverprotective, I hate for my kids to be alone at home for any longer than an hour or two.
