Discovering You. Brenda Novak

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СКАЧАТЬ immediately. He was in the driver’s seat, which was closest to her as the vehicle rolled by. She was fairly certain he had Mack or Grady with him, but it was difficult to see. The passenger didn’t matter, anyway. Knowing that Rod wouldn’t be around for a while eased her anxiety. She hadn’t begun to get over her embarrassment about what she’d done last night. The fact that they could bump into each other if she so much as went out to weed the front flower bed made her reluctant to leave the house.

      God, what had she been thinking?

      Rod had to be scratching his head, too, wondering what kind of woman had moved in next door. The further she got from that moment, the more horrified she became. It bothered her so much that, when she couldn’t sleep last night, she’d gotten up and baked him some cookies. She had a special snickerdoodle recipe that had been her mother’s. Besides a few pieces of jewelry, some photo albums and a handmade sweater, that recipe was about all her mother had left behind. Charlie would often take platefuls of her snickerdoodles to the other doctors and nurses at the hospital, so she thought Rod might like them, too.

      In any case, they were her peace offering. She’d just relocated, planned on starting over. She didn’t want the first person she’d met in Whiskey Creek to hold a terrible opinion of her. She and Rod could be neighborly even if they weren’t exactly friends, couldn’t they?

      As she watched his taillights disappear around the bend, she breathed a sigh of relief. Now she had the chance to make her delivery when he wasn’t home, which was the opportunity she’d been looking for—if only she could figure out what to say on the accompanying note and get it over there before he got back. She didn’t want to write anything that might make him think this was another invitation. That was why she’d driven to the Gas-N-Go early this morning, before the closest supermarket was open, to buy a package of paper plates—so she wouldn’t have to put the cookies on a dish he’d feel obliged to return. She was merely acknowledging that she’d screwed up and was promising it wouldn’t happen again. She preferred to leave it at that.

      She imagined seeing him in the future, out in the yard or on the road, and giving him a polite wave. She wasn’t sure they could get to a polite wave from “Will you take me to bed?” Especially with just a plateful of cookies. But she’d already made them. She figured it was worth a try.

      Dear Rod, she wrote. Then she made a face at the words. “Dear” sounded both too familiar and old-fashioned. Unfortunately, “Rod” without the “Dear” didn’t seem right, either.

      After throwing that note away, she started over and skipped the salutation completely:

      I wasn’t myself last night. I’m sorry. Please accept these cookies as my apology and know I will never cross that line again.

      Sincerely,

      Your neighbor—who is cringing at her behavior but promises she’s not as bad as you must think.

      She didn’t allow herself to analyze what she’d written or change it again. She slipped the card into its envelope, grabbed the cookies and a roll of tape and hurried over to the stairs that led up to the deck outside his bedroom. She couldn’t go to the front door and ring the bell, or his brothers would know she was leaving him something. If he had to explain, she was afraid of what he might say.

      “With any luck, he’ll forgive me, and we’ll just go on as if it never happened,” she mumbled and put the foil-covered plate on the railing.

      As she searched for a place to tape the note, she saw that he hadn’t closed his door all the way. He didn’t seem to take much care when it came to protecting his personal property, but she could understand why he might not be too concerned. There wasn’t a lot of crime in Whiskey Creek; that was one of the reasons she’d moved there. Also, for the most part, everyone knew everyone else, which would make a man like Rod an unlikely victim.

      He was an idiot to pick a fight with Rod Amos. That was what one of the paramedics had said.

      Since she had such easy access to his room, India wished she could put the cookies on his bed or dresser, so she wouldn’t have to worry about ants, rodents or other animals finding them before he did. But entering his house wasn’t a serious consideration until she heard someone outside, around the front.

      “You’ll have to drive over later,” a male voice called out. “I’m late as it is.”

      Damn! She was afraid she was about to be spotted...

      “It won’t take me long to shower,” a female voice responded. “Rod’s hand is jacked up. Mack texted me that he doesn’t think Rod’ll be able to work, but Mack will be at the shop in an hour or so.”

      “We’ll manage. See you there,” came the response.

      An engine started. India had to do something or whoever was driving that car would see her the moment he backed up, and she definitely didn’t want to be caught lurking outside Rod’s door.

      Snatching up her cookies, she stepped into the room.

      “Hey, keep it down!” someone shouted, this time from inside the house instead of at the door. “What do you think this is? I’m trying to sleep!”

      That was a woman, too, but not the woman India had already heard, a fact that became more apparent when the first woman snapped an equally irritated response. “Yeah, well, some of us have to work.”

      Half expecting an argument to flare up, India held her breath. Neither woman seemed to be in a good mood. But nothing else happened. The younger one must’ve gotten in the shower so she could go to work, because everything fell silent.

      “Thank goodness,” India whispered. She thought she could leave now, but she couldn’t help taking a look at Rod’s room while she was there.

      He had a big bed, which he hadn’t made. His torn and bloody clothes from last night lay on the floor, along with some cleats and a football. Other than that, the place was clean. It was even sort of decorated, which came as a surprise. Twenty or more baseball caps lined the dresser, and a collection of grilles and hubcaps from old cars hung all over the walls.

      India was tempted to throw away the clothes he’d left—they couldn’t be saved—and straighten the bedding. She supposed it was the mother in her...

      Actually, if she was being honest, it had nothing to do with the mother in her. She liked him enough to want to touch the things that were most personal to him...

      A door opening and shutting somewhere else in the house reminded her that she needed to get out.

      She set her cookies on the railing, where she’d put them before, taped the note beside the foil-covered plate and hurried down the steps and across the lawn.

      Once she reached her screened-in porch, she knew she was safe. But then she turned to give the cookies and note a final glance and realized she’d left his door open a little wider than she’d found it. She hated that he might guess she’d invaded his private space—especially since she had—but she wasn’t going over to correct it. In the future, she planned to keep her distance from Rod Amos and anything or anyone associated with him.

      Now she needed to figure out a way to approach her in-laws about getting her daughter home, so she could bring some normalcy back into her life, or the loneliness that dogged her every step would completely destroy her.

      Before she could commit herself to that СКАЧАТЬ