Текст книги "The Good Neighbor"

Автор книги: Kimberley A. Bettes

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The Good Neighbor

By Kimberly A. Bettes

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Kimberly A. Bettes

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

1 Owen

I didn’t believe Jenson was a serial killer, hacking up the bodies and hauling them out of his house in black trash bags. Though his behavior was odd, and there were a lot of bags coming out of his house, and other residents of Hewitt Street thought he was, I didn’t believe it.

As I watched the old man struggle with his bags, I wondered why he just didn’t put them in a can at the curb like the rest of the world. What was in his garbage that required him to dispose of it wherever it was that he disposed of it? I had no idea where that was. I never followed him to see where he went once he loaded the heavy bags in his car.

The real puzzle was why he had two different garbage bags that he disposed of in two different ways. He had white trash bags, which he carried to the curb once a week and placed in a curbside trashcan.

Then, there were the black bags.

I sat on my front porch watching him, thinking maybe I should cross the street and help him. After all, he was in his sixties or seventies, and I was still a youthful thirty-five. It was the polite thing to do, and certainly the neighborly thing to do.

“What’s he doing?” someone asked. I turned to see Andy, the neighbor to my left, standing on his porch in his robe.

“Him? What are you doing? It’s almost noon.”

He tilted his red head down to look at his robe, as if seeing it for the first time. “You don’t think I rock this ensemble?” As he spoke, he put one foot on the porch railing, placing his elbow on his bent knee.

“Well, I do now that I see your shoes.”

“Like ‘em? Jill got ‘em for me.”

“Nice. They complement your...uh, carrots.”

“Don’t hate the bunny shoes. You’re jealous, I can tell.”

I laughed, turning my attention back to the trash bag-toting senior.

Andy, seeing where my attention went, asked, “What do you suppose is in that bag?” he asked, starting a conversation we’d had many times before.

“I don’t know, but it definitely looks heavy.”

“Aren’t they always heavy?”

Changing the subject, I asked, “Why are you still in your robe?” I didn’t take my eyes off the old man.

“I’m not still in my robe. I just got in my robe.”

“Ah, must be on the night shift this week,” I deduced.

“Yeah. I’ll be heading to bed soon. Just wanted to come out and see what was happening out here. I heard the moving truck.”

I turned my attention to the truck a few driveways down the street, where two men were carrying furniture into the house. Two children, a boy and a girl, were running around the yard. Occasionally, a young woman – presumably their mother – would step onto the porch and say something to them.

Andy said. “Think she’s the mom? Or maybe the older sister? She’s hot.” His smile broadened.

“Yeah, she’s alright. But is she hotter than, say, Jill?”

He lost his smile. “Of course not. My wife is the hottest woman on the planet,” he said in a robotic voice, then smiled.

“You’re crazy,” I said, laughing at him.

“I see Jenson finally got that bag in the trunk,” Andy said.

When I looked across the street, I saw the old man close the lid of the trunk. I could tell from the stiffness in his gait that he was in pain and having some difficulty getting around. It was probably from dragging around all those heavy bags. And age, of course. I watched as he got in his car, backed out slowly, and then drove away.

“Wonder where he goes,” Andy said, reading my mind. “One of these days, we should follow him. See what he does with those bags.” He saw the look I was giving him and added, “I’m just curious.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is nosy.”

“So you’ve never thought about it? You don’t wanna know what he’s got goin’ on over there?”

“Yeah, but I’d never follow him. Some states call that stalking. They even have laws against it.”

He laughed. “It isn’t stalking if you do it once, and just see where he goes. No big deal.”

I didn’t respond. In my mind, it was still stalking. It was still something that would make me feel guilty, as though I was doing something wrong. Even if it was just once.

“Well, think about it. Maybe one of these days, we’ll go sleuthing, see what’s up. But now, me and the bunnies here are going to turn in for the afternoon.”

“Yeah, go get some sleep. You’re losing your charm.”

“That’s impossible. And, Owen, try to keep it down out here. I’m tired of telling you. You’re the loudest neighbor on Hewitt Street.” He laughed, knowing that was the farthest thing from the truth, and then went inside.

Andy was my best friend, and I was lucky he lived next door. He and his wife Jill had taken great care of me when my life fell apart last year. I still hadn’t picked up all the pieces yet, but I was a lot closer than what I would’ve been if it hadn’t been for them. They’re the only ones who knew how bad things had been for me.

I reluctantly went inside the house. I couldn’t sit on the porch all day, even though I spent as much time on the porch as I could to avoid spending time alone in the house. There were too many memories, all of them best forgotten, that consumed me when I was inside the house. It just hurt too much to be in there.

However, there were things to do.

Once I’d finished my chores and ran my errands, I stopped off and grabbed some dinner. I wasn’t much of a cook, so I ate a lot of take out. A couple times a week, Jill made more than enough food just so she would have an excuse to feed me. This wasn’t one of those nights.

I sat on the porch, my feet propped up on what was supposed to be a table. It suited me better as a footstool. I held my burger in one hand and scooped fries from a bag on my lap with the other.

It was funny how I didn’t mind the silence of being alone when I was outside. Inside, I wanted to scream. Outside, I was fine. I knew the reason. I hated the reason. I struggled every second of every day to not think about the reason.

Inside reminded me of her. Inside is where she lived and loved me. I had no memories of her out here on the porch. But as soon as I walked through the door, I was engulfed with her smell, the sound of her laughter – though it was only in my mind, and everything she’d touched. Her things were still in the house where she’d left them. Things she’d bought or gifts she’d received. Everything was as it had been. Everywhere I looked, there was a reminder. A reminder of what had been, what I’d had, and what I’d lost.

At first, those reminders saved me. They comforted me. They were all I had to hold onto. Now, they taunted me. It was all I could do to let go. Holding on to the memories wasn’t saving me anymore. It was killing me.

It wasn’t a lie or an exaggeration to say Andy and Jill had taken great care of me. They were there from the beginning. They stood by my side as I fell apart. Andy stayed with me the first few days and nights. Jill kept me eating, even though it was an absolute job to do so, for both of us. They made me keep up my hygiene, even though there was no reason to. They made me get out of bed and quit wallowing in my pity. If they hadn’t, I’d have laid there, in the fetal position, and died.

But the one thing they couldn’t do was make me quit missing her. She was everything to me. She always had been. She was the only woman I’d ever loved and that had ever loved me. And then she was gone, vanished from my life. The only evidence that she’d ever even existed was the very things in my house that I could no longer stand to look at.

Thinking of her now brought images to my mind. I could see her dark hair, her brown eyes, and her warm smile as if she were standing in front of me now. I could almost hear her voice. As was always the case when I dared to let myself think of her, I couldn’t help but wonder what I had done to make her want to leave.

I had to force down the mouthful of cheeseburger I’d been chewing. It just couldn’t seem to find its way around the lump that had suddenly appeared in my throat. I knew there’d be no way I could finish the meal now. Not with thoughts of Holly on my mind. I’d lost my appetite.

I looked around for the dog that roamed the neighborhood, planning to give him the remnants, but I didn’t see him. I set the food on the table, also known as my footstool. I leaned forward in the chair, putting my elbows on my knees, unsure what to do now. I had a restless feeling. It was the same restlessness that always came when I thought of Holly. And with Andy working night shift, I had no one to take my mind off her.

I hated when Andy worked nights. It meant I had to sit on the porch alone, until it was late enough to go to bed without feeling guilty that I’d turned in too early. There had been many nights where I’d given up and gone to bed before the sun had set. I felt as though I’d wasted valuable, nonrefundable time out of my life by doing so, but I was just unable to continue dragging myself through the day. The loneliness, the emptiness, the hollowness that had become my life was sometimes just too much to bear. There were days when I didn’t want to get out of bed at all, but I forced myself. I knew that the amount of time that had passed since Holly had disappeared from my life was appropriate for me to move on. But somehow, I still couldn’t manage to do so. Though things had gotten a lot better for me, my wounds were still not completely healed. There wasn’t an open wound now, but there wasn’t a scar either. It was more of a scab. I was close to being healed, but not quite there yet.

I sighed deeply and closed my eyes, listening to the crickets chirp. The sound of a door closing snapped them open.

“You still out here?” Andy asked as he came out of his house.

“I’m not still out here. I’m out here again,” I said, referring to what he’d said this morning about his bathrobe.

“You need a hobby, my friend.”

“I see you’ve decided to shed the robe for a night on the grind. I’m sure your co-workers will appreciate that. Do they know how awesome you dress while at home?” I teased.

“They’ve heard stories.” Andy indicated the house across the street from me when he said, “Quiet at Jenson’s place tonight, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“Thought you were against all forms of stalking,” he said, furrowing his brow with feigned suspicion and folding his arms across his chest.

“Is it stalking when I never have to leave my front porch?”

Andy laughed. “Guess not.”

Suddenly, the peaceful sound of a quiet night was shattered. Andy’s head jerked abruptly and I shot out of my chair as if my ass were on fire.

“Was that a scream?” he asked in a loud whisper.

I could only nod. We ran off our porches simultaneously, in search of the sound. Both of us stood on our lawns, heads tilted, scanning the street, listening for another sound. Finally it came.

Andy breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Damn,” he said. “That scared the hell out of me.”

“Me too,” I said. My nerves were tingling. The sudden rush of adrenaline had brought everything to life in me that had been dormant for so long. My heart raced. I enjoyed the feeling. It reminded me that I was alive. Something I’d seemed to have forgotten. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Who lets their kids run around the yard at night screaming like that? Especially when you just moved into the neighborhood?” he asked, watching the kids down the street run circles in the yard of their new home.

“I don’t know. Probably someone hot,” I said, teasing him.

“I only said that for your benefit,” he said smiling. When I didn’t return his smile, he looked at the ground, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Owen. I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“It’s okay,” I lied. It wasn’t okay. I may be ready to try to let go of her memory, but I certainly wasn’t ready to move on that way. I didn’t even know how to move on that way.

“Still. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Andy?”

“Yes?”

“Aren’t there some people somewhere waiting for you to grace them with your presence?” I smiled, letting him know to forget about it.

“Yeah. Can’t keep my fans waiting,” he said in a lighter tone, walking to his car. “I’d tell you to be on the porch when I get home and we’ll keep an eye on Jenson, but I’m sure you’ll be there already, not stalking him.” He laughed and got in his car before I could respond.

He drove away, leaving me standing on the lawn listening to the sounds of chirping crickets and screaming kids.

2 Owen

When I stepped out the door the next morning, I saw the mess. I’d forgotten to bring in the burger and fries. The neighborhood dog had found and eaten it, but the wrappers were lying on the porch. At least he hadn’t ripped the wrappers to shreds as most dogs would have done. I stooped down to pick them up.

“Hello,” said a sweet, feminine voice.

I looked up as she stepped off the top step and onto the porch, only a couple feet from me. I stood, trying to appear as though I wasn’t looking. But I noticed her painted toenails, her sandals, her ankle bracelet, her toned legs, her curvy hips wrapped in jean shorts, her white blouse, her slender neck, and her beautiful face.

“Hello,” I said in return. I wasn’t sure what else to say. I thought I was doing good to manage to speak actual words. I was so taken with her that I was certain all I’d be able to do was spew forth some nonsense. But somehow my tongue hadn’t failed me.

She smiled. “I just moved in down the street. I wanted to introduce myself. My name is Carla Jones. You probably heard my kids last night. I hope they didn’t bother you, but they were so excited to learn that we’re walking distance from a park.” She laughed lightly.

“Well, I did wonder if you always gave them caffeine before bed,” I said with a smile.

She laughed again. “No, usually, you don’t even know they’re there. They’re very good kids. Thankfully,” she said.

Andy pulled into his driveway. I could feel him staring at us. I did my best to ignore him.

“Why thankfully?” I asked.

“Well, being a single mother would be a lot harder for me if they were unruly.”

“Yeah, I guess that would make it harder. So are you moving from somewhere else or another part of town?”

I felt Andy gawking as he slowly made his way into his house and I felt myself start to blush. I knew there’d be a lot of questions from him later.

“We moved here from Dallas. My Aunt Elaine passed away last February and she left me the house in her will. I packed up the kids, and moved here. It’s scary, you know. Starting over.” She looked down the street at her kids playing in the yard and smiled.

“Elaine was your aunt, huh?” I did what I could to keep my voice from tightening.

“Yeah. Did you know her?” she asked, turning her attention back to me.

“I did. I used to shovel her walkway in the winter. I helped her carry in groceries a few times. That sort of thing. My wife knew her better than I did,” I said tightly. I was losing the battle to keep my voice loose and nonchalant. I quickly added, “I never found out what happened to her.”

“Oh, I thought you knew. Her body was found in a ditch outside of town. She died of head trauma. It looked like they used a poker. Never found out who did it.” She paused a moment, deep in thought. “You don’t think I made a mistake moving into the house, do you? It seems like a nice, quiet neighborhood, but, well, it’s the same house, and...”

I saw the hope in her eyes. I knew she needed to hear that she’d be fine on this street, in that house, and that the horrible things that had happened to her aunt were not going to happen to her. I could do that. I could tell her what she needed to hear. “No, no. You’re fine. This is a great neighborhood.”

She must’ve read something in the look on my face. “Is something wrong?” She looked at me expectantly.

I was still upset about mentioning my wife. It was like slapping a sunburn. I was used to the pain, but when I mentioned her, it stung as if it were fresh.

“No,” I said. “I know you and your kids will be very happy here.”

“Good,” she said, clearly relieved. “Guess I’d better get back. I’ll talk to you again soon. Meet your wife perhaps?” She had turned to leave, but once she saw the look on my face, she stopped. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. She pointed to my wedding ring. “I just...assumed. I’m sorry.” She was clearly confused.

I looked at my ring. Struggling to keep my voice steady and my eyes dry, I said, “It’s a long story.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Of course she didn’t. How could she?

“Well,” she said, trying to rectify the situation. “If you ever want to tell it, let me know. I’ll cook dinner. I’m a great listener.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

“Good. You could meet the kids.” She turned and walked away, heading for her new home and leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume. I inhaled through my nose and watched her walk away, realizing that Andy was right. She was very attractive. I immediately felt guilty for thinking such thoughts.

I didn’t have to feel guilty for long, though. Andy dashed out of his house and over to mine, running up on the porch.

“Well?” he asked, excitedly. He appeared to have been hovering at the door, waiting to run over here and bombard me with questions. When I didn’t answer, he repeated, “Well?”

“Out of the eleventy bazillion questions you have for me, this is the one you lead with?” I sat down in my chair, Andy taking the one next to me.

“I’m working my way up to the others,” he said as he crossed his legs, placing an ankle on the opposite knee.

“She’s nice. Elaine was her aunt.”

“Oh. She’s nice. That’s all you have to say?”

“What more do you want me to say? We talked for like five minutes. Besides, don’t you get enough gossip at work?”

“One can never have enough gossip. Thought you knew that. Besides I don’t think of it as gossip. I think of it as informed entertainment.”

“Informed entertainment?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess if that’s the word that separates you from the other ladies, then fine.”

Andy laughed. He relaxed further into the chair.

“You know what we need?” he asked. Before I could answer, “We need beer.” He jumped up and ran back to his house, returning only moments later with two ice cold bottles of beer. I would’ve protested that it was too early, but for him, it was evening. Things were always weird like this when he worked nights. Handing one to me, he plopped into the chair and put his feet up on my table. “Nice footstool,” he said.

“Don’t hate the patio furniture.”

“What’s Jenson been doing today so far?” he asked, opening his bottle.

“Don’t know. I haven’t been paying attention.” I opened my beer, appreciating the hell out of the twist off top.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Andy looking at me with a huge grin smeared across his face. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew he was going to turn this conversation into something more than it was.

“What is it, Andy?” I asked, not turning toward him.

“Haven’t been paying attention, huh? You have, just not to Jenson.” It didn’t take a team of scientific engineers to figure out what he meant by that.

I fought the urge to glance in Carla’s direction. I ignored his point and continued staring across the street at Mr. Jenson’s house.

“You ever talk to him? I mean, like really talk to him.” I asked. Andy hadn’t lived in the neighborhood as long as I had, but he was more outgoing than I was so I assumed he’d talked with him at some point. Andy had never met a stranger. While I’d been caught up in work, Andy had socialized. I teased him often about being a gossip, but it was just that he talked to everyone, so he knew more than most people did.

“Not really. Said hi a few times when he moved in a couple years ago. He’s not much of a talker, though.”

“Well, I’d have thought you’d love to talk to someone who wouldn’t interrupt your monologues and soliloquies.”

“Yeah, well, I need a challenge. You don’t exactly talk my ear off either, you know.” He took a long drink of his beer.

“Doesn’t have many visitors, does he?” I asked, ignoring his statement about my silence.

“He’s never had a visitor. At least not that I’ve seen. Of course, I work odd hours, so it’s possible that he had some and I didn’t see. Possible, but not probable. Jill’s never seen him have a visitor either.”

“You think we should visit him?”

I could almost hear the snap in his neck when he turned and glared at me.

“Are you serious? No way.” He sounded as if I’d just asked him to eat a platter of whale wiener.

“Well, you’re the one who was all for stalking him. Now you don’t want to visit? Why not? What better way to find out what he does with those bags than to be in his house and look around. Maybe even work it into a conversation.”

“Stalking is different than visiting. Besides, what are we going to do? Go over there and say ‘Excuse me, sir. But we were wondering exactly how many people you’ve killed this month. We lost track. We were keeping count of the body bags you hauled out of here, but we lost our paperwork.’ You’re crazy. No way.”

“Of course not. That’s silly. I wouldn’t call him sir.”

Andy chuckled.

“He must be lonely over there. I know how that feels,” I muttered.

Andy was silent for a while. Then, “You know, that girl really seemed to like you. If you want to visit someone, maybe you should visit her.” Holding his hands out, palms up, as if they were scales, he said, “Hot girl or old man? If that’s a tough decision for you, you’ve got problems, buddy.”

I laughed.

“I’m serious. I’ll walk you down there, if you want.” He leaned forward, as if he were going to jump out of the chair if I’d only give him the word.

I laughed again. “I’m not ready for that, Andy.”

Growing a little more serious, Andy said, “I know, but I think you should be. It’s been a long time, Owen. She’s not coming back.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat so I could down the rest of the beer. I hoped it would take some of the sting out of those words. But it didn’t. I don’t think Andy realized how raw that wound still was. I also don’t think he realized how fully aware I was that she wasn’t coming back. She would never come back. I knew that. I just don’t think he knew that I knew that.

“I’m sorry, man. I just...you’re my best friend, and I hate seeing you like this. It pisses me off. You’re a great guy. You need to be happy. And if a hot mother of two is what’ll make you happy, then I’ll walk you down the street myself.” He smiled.

I chuckled. “I’m okay.”

Andy dropped the subject for now. I knew it wasn’t over. I knew that the very next opportunity that arose, he’d be trying to talk me into going down the street to her house and asking her out. I also knew he wasn’t trying to be an ass. He was trying to be helpful. He only wanted what was best for me.

While Andy slept, Jill came over. “I figured you were hungry,” she said, handing me a large covered dish.

I waved the dish under my nose. “Smells good. Lasagna?”

“Baked spaghetti.” She shrugged her shoulders and laughed. “Same thing, I guess.”

I took the dish into the kitchen and put it in the refrigerator. I quickly returned to the porch, where Jill sat, waiting for me to sit before talking.

“Don’t you ever get tired of sitting out here?” She crossed her short legs at the ankle and clasped her hands over her belly. She rested her head on the back of the chair and fell deep into thought.

It always amazed me how every time she came over and sat on my porch, she appeared to be on vacation. It was like my porch slowed down time for her. She even looked as though she were on vacation. She had on white canvas shoes, green socks that matched her green shorts and green blouse, and a white hat with her ponytail pulled through the hole in the back. She had tourist written all over her.

I knew what she was thinking. It’s what she was always thinking and I didn’t want to talk about it. I knew I needed to talk about it with someone, and Jill would probably be the one when the time came. But I just didn’t feel that now was the time.

“Owen?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said quietly, dreading where this was heading.

“You don’t deserve what she’s done to you. No matter what happened between you two, you don’t deserve this.”

I decided to open up a little and test the waters, see if I was ready to talk about it yet. “That’s the part that kills me, Jill. Nothing happened between us. One day, everything was great, and the next day, everything was gone. In the blink of an eye.” I did my best to hide the pain from my voice, but I knew it was there. I heard it. I felt it as I spoke, and I knew she hadn’t missed it. She never missed it.

“Everything isn’t gone, Owen. Only she’s gone. And if she could do this to you, then it’s better that she left. How could she put you through this? She had to know what it would do to you. I’m going to say this, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.” She hesitated, probably thinking about keeping it to herself. “I’d rather you were alone than with someone who could hurt you so deeply, so easily. Does that sound horrible?”

I shook my head. I knew what she meant. And she was right. But why did it still hurt so badly after all this time? I closed my eyes and wished the hurt would stop. I wished I could either rewind my life to a time when Holly was still with me, or fast forward my life to a time when Holly’s absence meant little to me. I wondered if there would ever be such a time.

“How long will the pain last?” I asked, fighting the lump in my throat for the ability to speak.

“Until you find something to fill the hole she left.”

I looked at her unable to hide the doubt in my eyes.

“Think about it,” she said. “If your boat leaks, it’ll leak until you plug the hole, right? In this case, the boat is your heart.”

I thought about what she said. She was right. She was more than right. She was spot-on. But then again, she always was.

“How’d you get to be so smart?” I asked, smiling to lighten the mood.

“Well, I’ve been around. I’ve seen some things, done some stuff. Are you surprised that I’m good for more than filling your trough?”

I laughed. “No. It’s just that you knew exactly what I needed to hear.”

She smiled. “And I knew when to say it.” I could tell by the look on her face that there was a reason we were having this talk. When I saw her glance at the house down the street, it was clear.

“Andy told you about the girl down the street, didn’t he?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Of course. But he was right to tell me. We’ve been talking about this for a while. It was just complete coincidence that she showed up like this.”

“Good,” I said. “I was starting to think you two had killed Elaine so her niece would move here and you could unleash your plan on me.” She laughed. “You should consider using your powers to do good,” I suggested.

She stood. “I’ll consider it. I better go. It’s almost dark. How long do you stay out here?”

I shrugged. “Until I get tired of it.”

She left, bidding me a good night.

I looked at the house down the street. Maybe they were right. What was the harm in my moving on? Holly was gone. I couldn’t expect myself to continue to mope after her forever. It wasn’t fair to expect that of myself.

3 Bernie

My head felt like it was splitting open. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw open the door to the medicine cabinet. Bottles tumbled out and fell loudly into the sink. I said some bad words as I fumbled through the bottles until I found what I was looking for.

I thumped a couple of pills into my hand and set the bottle on the counter without replacing the lid. Who cared? I turned on the water. I threw the pills in my mouth and bent over, drinking water straight from the faucet.

I kicked some dirty clothes out of the way and walked to the toilet. Without lifting the lid, I pissed, getting some on the seat. I knew as I was doing it, I wasn’t going to wipe it off. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time the toilet had been cleaned. But who cared?

I went to the kitchen to grab something to eat. My gut was growling.

I stood at the sink, holding a slice of pizza left over from a couple of days ago. I flicked a cockroach off it and took a bite. It wasn’t bad. Kind of stale. It didn’t matter to me. I didn’t care what it tasted like. I could’ve been eating cardboard and I wouldn’t have cared. Food had long ago lost all flavor and appeal to me.

I looked out the window at the broad next door. I’d watched her make a few trips in and out of her house yesterday, and even watched her go down the street to that loser Owen’s house. I wanted her. It was just a matter of time until I had her.

I picked up a can from the counter and shook it to see if it was empty. I heard liquid sloshing inside so I drank it. It was a very flat, warm soda. As I drank, I felt a floating roach brush against my lips. It must’ve drowned in the soda. I made sure not to swallow it as I drank, but I wouldn’t have cared much if I had.

I watched the broad pushing her brats on the swing set in the back yard. Noisy little bastards, they were. But I could put up with it if it meant getting some of the mother. I’d crawl through burning embers on my gut, naked, if it meant I could get some of her. She wasn’t like the women I usually brought home. They were just bar whores, used up and past their prime. She was in her prime, and didn’t appear to be used up. Yet. It was only a matter of time until I had her.

Of course, if things worked out between us, I don’t know what I’d do about those stupid kids. Maybe their father would take them. The last thing I needed or wanted was a couple of snot-nosed heathens running around my house. I didn’t have the patience for that sort of thing. All I wanted was her. I wanted to do things to her that you couldn’t tell other people about even if you were in prison. Things that I’d been dreaming of doing to somebody, anybody. Her moving in next door was meant to be. It was almost like she was asking me to do it to her.