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WO, Jessypt and Nico have made this chapter readable. Thanks guys!
"With the increase in global transport, as well as urbanization and overcrowded conditions, epidemics due the new influenza virus are likely to quickly take hold around the world."
-World Health Organization.
I hid in my house the rest of the weekend, avoiding my neighbor at all costs. Apparently, he likes to spend all of his free time on his porch with a beer and a book, while I want to spend all of my free time away from him. When I saw his Volvo pull out of the driveway on Wednesday night, I took the Copes the dinner I made for them and ran right back home. Last weekend had been more of the same and for the first time since I was hired at Cheney and Crowley, I was relieved when Monday rolled around, so I didn't feel like a prisoner in my home.
My neighbor's home has been strangely quiet all week. Maybe he really did take my rant seriously?Or maybe, I just freaked him out with my bizaare behavior, and he's scared to have guests over for fear of his crazy neighbor showing up.
I stretch in my bed and smile when I see the sun's rays through my window. The weather had dried up on Thursday, but I assumed when it came time for my day off it would rain again. I'm pleasantly surprised at the prospect of a sunny day.
I close my eyes and want to veg out in bed for a few more minutes, but my peace is ruined when I hear a loud rumble right below my bedroom window.
"What is that?" I mumble to myself. I rub my eyes and prop myself up on a pillow. When I hear nothing I close my eyes again, but sure enough, like a chain saw, the grumble screams again but gets louder and doesn't stop.
I jump out of bed and run to my window, horrified at what I see. "What is he doing?" I shriek, stumbling around trying to get pants and slippers on.
I grab my robe, fly down the stairs and out my front door where my neighbor is in my yard, with what looks like a weed-whacker, and is attacking my lilac bushes.
"What are you doing?" I scream over the loud noise. He has earbuds in his ears and can't hear me. He continues on, bobbing his head to the music while singing loudly.
I don't want to touch him, because with my luck, I'd startle him and he'd spin around slamming the blades of the weed-whacker right into my flesh. The longer I wait, the more painful death my bushes suffer.
I do the first thing that comes to mind.
Take my slipper off and throw it at him.
The pink satin hits him right in the temple. He jumps back and, like I predicted, the weed-whacker spins and would have slammed right into me if I had been standing there.
"Morning, neighbor!" he says brightly, removing the earbuds from of his ears. He's oblivious of the danger he is while holding that machine.
Now that I'm not in a state of rage on his front porch in the middle of the night, I can appreciate how handsome he is. He's in gym shorts and a wife beater. He's built, but not overly so. Not as big as my brother, who resembles the Jolly Green Giant... just a little less green. Sweat beads around his light brown hair. It matches his casual attire by hanging in a mess on the top of his head. It's his eyes that really catch me though; they're the brightest I've ever seen on a person. Contacts, I'm sure.
"Morning," I mumble, suddenly very aware of my state of dress. I wrap my threadbare robe tightly around myself and hobble over to retrieve my slipper.
"Oh, here," he says, bending over to pick it up and hand it to me. "Pink. Good choice." He rubs the side of his head then winks - actually winks.
"Thanks." I can feel the heat in my cheeks, as I stumble around trying to get my slipper back on my foot.
"Now, what are you doing?" I take a step back and cover my mouth with my hand, because lord only knows how bad my breath is. My other hand goes to my hair, and I cringe when I feel the grease in it.
"Saying sorry." He smiles, waiting to be rewarded.
"Saying sorry?" I shake my head confused.
"Yeah, I wanted to do something nice for you to say sorry for the trouble my friends and I caused you last week. I already said sorry to the Copes."
I feel my anger bubbling up. "You thought the best way to say sorry would be to kill my favorite lilac bushes?" Tears brim in my eyes; an unfortunate side effect of my anger, another thing that adds to my awkwardness.
"Li-lilac bushes?" He looks from the bushes to my teary eyes. He steps forward, and I take an even larger step back. "I'm sorry." His voice is soft and quiet. His own hand comes up to his mouth, then his head turns and his eyes bore right into mine. "I didn't know. I was trying to help. I thought they were over grown shrubbery."
"Shrubbery?" I choke out.
He nods. His expression matches that of a little boy who just got caught pulling his sister's hair. It makes me feel guilty, because I'm the one who put it on his face. This just makes me madder - he's the one who ruined my lilacs!
"Don't try to make up for anything. If you want to do something nice for me, just leave me alone, okay?"
He blanches at my harsh words and nods his head. I feel ashamed of my behavior and do the only thing I can think of - flee. I run back into my house and slam the door.
"Ugh, I'm such a bitch." My back hits my door, and I slide to the ground.
He seems to bring all my pent up wrath, from others who deserve it, all down on himself. I lean against my door, unable to force myself to walk away and leave it alone.
I stand on my tiptoes, looking out the glass cutouts on the door and watch as he sullenly picks up all his equipment from the yard and goes back to his own place.
It was an honest mistake, and I had to go and snap at him.
I end up in the bathroom and whimper when I see my reflection. I wouldn't even let my dog see me like this... if I had a dog. I shower and dress in my normal weekend attire, yoga pants and a comfortable top. My hair goes in a ponytail, and the uncomfortable contacts stay stored until Monday. Officially, the weekend me is here. I try to get on with my day, but the lilac incident and the look on my neighbor's face keeps coming back to me. I can't stand hurting people. Most would move on with their lives, but no, not me. I spend the rest of the day letting guilt gnaw away at me - piece by painful piece.
Thank God Alice calls to see if I want to get together for lunch. I need to get out of the house. When I go outside to get into my car I notice how beautiful the Cope's yard looks. The guilt stone in my gut doubles in size. He mowed their lawn and weeded out their flowerbeds. He really was trying to make up for the other night. The moment I feel my guilt can't get any worse, I make the mistake of looking over at his house. He's sitting on his front porch with a cup of coffee and the paper. Tentatively, he raises his hand and waves. I wave back and force my friendliest fake smile, but it comes out more as a grimace, before hiding in my car. I drive the long way out of the neighborhood just to avoid passing his house.
I meet Alice at her favorite cafe in town and find her already waiting at a table for me.
"Hey," she says, standing to give me a hug. She's wearing khaki pants and shirt that hangs off one of her naturally tan shoulders perfectly.
"You look cute," I say as I sit. When does she not look cute?
Alice and I have been friends since elementary school. Every boy I ever had a crush on, had a crush on Alice. Emmett loved that she inadvertently kept the boys away from me in high school.
He calls her my deflector shield.
I always felt like if I hadn't been her best friend all through school I might have had a chance with a boy, but I never found out... because who would want me if they had a chance with her? In college I had my chance... now I kind of wish I hadn't. The worst part - she has no clue how wonderful everyone thinks she is. Not only is she perfect, she's also humble about it.
On the few occasions I've punished myself and gone out with Alice, it's a night full of her being hit on and me being in the way. Alice is fun and confidant. She's adventurous, single, and is willing to travel around the world alone with no problem. She lights up a room and can become anyone's best friend for the night. I'm the exact opposite. I'm awkward, uncomfortable being around people I don't know, and would rather be home than anywhere else in the world.
Alice just has style. She could wear a sack and pull it off as chic. She doesn't spend time at the gym, hours shopping, a lot of money on clothing or obsess about her look - she just pulls it off. She used to have this jet black, shiny hair that hung past her bra and curled at the ends naturally. Everyone - I mean everyone - complimented her on it. She got tired of it one day and, to my shock, cut her ponytail off. I thought for sure this would be the one time Alice would blend in to the wallpaper like me but no, people loved her 'amazing bob'.
I spent a ton of money on a stylist to help me a couple years back. She helped me pick out clothes, changed my hair and taught me how to do my makeup. No one really noticed. I have a wardrobe full of the clothing that was suggested to me. It's the clothing I wear to work, and I always feel like an impostor in them. The chic suits and pencil skirts make me look like I'm playing dress up in my mom's closet. The smooth style the salon placed my hair in looks frizzy and unwashed when I try to do it. When I make an effort to do my makeup, people ask me if I'm 'feeling alright'. Not quite the professional business feel I was going for.
Alice smiles at my common compliment. "Thanks," she says. "Anything new?"
I shake my head, praying she doesn't ask about my neighbor. When I came in the house soaking wet and muddy she was the only one between the two of us who found humor in the situation. She helped me wash the mud out and we stayed up late into the night drinking wine and watching movies.
"How about with you?"
"Not much. I have my room ready. Class starts next week."
"That's exciting." Alice is a second grade teacher at the elementary school in Everett. She's great with the kids, and they love the fact she's not much taller than them.
"Yeah, it should be a good year. So, nothing new with 'headgear neighbor'?"
I roll my eyes at her nickname for him. After I told her what he was wearing that night that's all she'll call him. I pick up my straw wrapper and twist it in my fingers.
"There is something new! Spill," she demands.
I tell her every embarrassing detail of what happened this morning.
"You threw your slipper at him?"
I nod, my cheeks getting hot just at the memory.
Gee, wonder why I'm single.
"Wow, harsh much, Bella?" she laughs.
"I know. I feel terrible."
"Eh, don't." She shrugs and takes a sip of her drink, looking around the restaurant. "He probably doesn't even remember."
"He's a guy, Alice, not a dog."
"There's a difference?" she asks shocked.
We both laugh, and the conversation moves on to less embarrassing topics. Alice goes to the bathroom and comes back with a newspaper in her hands.
"Listen to this, 'As the H6N2 virus shows up in more countries, the US government is considering a flight ban outside of the US. The World Health Organization is actively watching the situation and has warned travelers to be prepared for such action to be taken.' Shit, that sounds serious."
"Don't you remember the swine flu and the bird flu too? Everyone was scared and worried then and nothing happened." Again, I consider stocking up just a little when I go to the store tonight. Everyone made fun of me last time though, so I don't want to share my plan.
"You're right. Stupid scare tactics to sell stupid newspapers," she agrees, tossing the paper into the trash on our way out.
~*Exposed*~
When I pull into my driveway I see Mrs. Cope sitting on their deck chairs out front, enjoying the early fall sun.
"Isabella," Mrs. Cope calls when I get out of my car, waving me over.
I walk across the street and sit in the vacant chair she pats. "Hello, you look nice today." I can tell she's made an effort to dress up, and she beams at my compliment.
"Thank you, and thank you for the ride to the hospital the other night."
"Of course."
"Have you met the nice young man next door yet, Isabella?" she asks, winking at me.
"Uh, yeah, I have."
"Such a sweet boy! First thing this morning we find him mowing the lawn... such a sweet boy. What kind of young man gets up on his Saturday morning and mows his elderly neighbor's yard? You don't find them like that anymore," she warns me.
I internally roll my eyes and fight the need to tell her he's the reason I had to drive her to the hospital the other night. "Yes, that was very nice of him," I agree instead, choking over the words.
"Where's Mr. Cope today?" I ask, trying to change the subject.
"Oh, he's off somewhere. Old man can't sit still," she laughs lightly.
"I'm going to the grocery store later, is there anything I can get for you?" The flu warning pops into my head again, and I worry that the Copes might not know to be prepared.
"Oh no, dear. Margaret was just here and stocked us all up."
If I remember right, Margaret is her daughter. "Okay, well just call if you need anything," I say, getting up ready to head to my home. I need to make my list for shopping.
When I cross the street I see my neighbor - the Lilac Killer - looking through his window. As soon as he's seen he's been caught staring he lets the curtain fall.
My shopping trip is short and uneventful. I buy two extra cans of my normal purchases, too embarrassed to buy anymore. If Alice or Emmett happen to look in my pantry, I don't want a repeat of the teasing I endured last year. I see salted caramels by the register and grab them on an impulse buy for Rose and me to snack on during our cooking date tomorrow. Turning around I go back to the candy aisle and stock up in case Emmett comes with her. Excited to see my family tomorrow, I head home.
~*Exposed*~
The sun graces me with its presence once again on Sunday. I eagerly run around my house, baby proofing for Clair's visit. The baby gate is up by the stairs, all the glass is moved, the power outlets are plugged. Rose keeps reminding me that she can't walk yet, so there's really no need to do all this. In my mind though, you can never be too careful; freak things happen - and most often to me.
I expect Rose and Em to be here by now, but there's no sign of them yet. I decide to go out and play in my garden a bit. It's too nice out not to take advantage of the sun. Unfortunately, my neighbor has the same idea. However, it's not him in his flowerbeds, it's a woman. Probably his girlfriend. Even though I don't want to admit it, he's a handsome man. You'd have to be blind not to notice his good looks but that personality... I shake my head at my own thoughts. Inconsiderate ass just doesn't do it for me - not that I'd ever have a chance with him anyway.
She smiles and waves to me as I get started on my own weeding. I wave back hesitantly. Who is this and what has he told her about me? I can just imagine the two drinking the night away making fun of the freak next door. Oh well. I've gotten good at not caring about what others think of me - well at least at not showing it.
I try to stay busy but keep peering at the woman to my right. Her hair is in a perfect upsweep and the apron she wears around her clothing doesn't even look dirty. I look down at myself to see streaks of dirt all over me. She catches me staring and looks up and smiles. Embarrassed to be caught gawking, I look down and lift my hand to move my hair out of my face. Because I like punishment apparently, I find myself looking over at her again.
Once I catch a good look at her face, I can see she's older than I originally thought. She's beautiful but looks as if she could be his mother. Sick, I bet that's exactly what he's into. She catches me staring again and her face softens. I see her stand and head my way out of the corner of my eye, and I'm mortified. I briefly consider running away. I look from my spot to the porch; I could make it before she gets to me if I'm fast.
"Hello."
Shit.
"Uh, hi," I say, turning around.
"I'm Esme." She looks at her muddy, gloved hand then shrugs her shoulder smiling. "Mud can't hurt mud, I guess."
I reach my own dirty glove out and shake hers. "Isabella."
"That's a beautiful name." Her smile is sincere, and she looks even more flawless up close. Even though I hate my name, the compliment from this beautiful woman makes me beam.
"Thank you."
"How did your mother come up with it?"
A week long binge on Pineapple Express. "I think it was from a book or something."
"My son hates his name, but I've always thought classic names sound so romantic."
"Your son?"
"Oh, have you two not met? He's always so outgoing; I assume he knows everyone. He moved into the house about a month or so ago." She points to Lilac-Killer's house.
"Oh... yes, I guess we've met... briefly." How could this lovely woman raise someone like him?
"Oh I'm sure he'll be over here bugging you soon enough." She smiles broadly. Well, isn't he someone's pride and joy.
"We can only hope." I smile back, making hers grow larger.
"I just wanted to come over and compliment you on your garden. It's gorgeous!"
"Thank you. It's something I really enjoy doing."
"It shows! Look at your hydrangeas and your snap dragons." She flutters around my garden, and I beam with pride. "Look at these lilacs!" She starts walking down the bush then stops abruptly. "Oh no! Apparently your landscaper doesn't have a green eye," she says when she gets to the end of the butchered bush.
I can almost feel myself growl, but I don't have the heart to tell her son is an ass.
"Nope, and he was quick too. It was chopped before I could get to it."
"I said I was sorry." My stomach drops when I hear the quiet voice behind me. I spin and face him catching Esme's attention.
"Hi, sweetheart. I was just complimenting your neighbor on what a beautiful garden she has."
"Yes, she does." I can feel his eyes bore into the side of my head. He doesn't sound too happy. I'm sure he thinks I was bitching to his mother about him.
"It's a shame though. Look at this." She pulls his hand and drags him toward the crime scene where the massacre took place. "Look at what her landscaper did to these lilacs!"
"Landscaper?"
"Yes, it's just a shame."
"Why did you tell my mother I was your landscaper?"
"Wait? You're her landscaper?" Esme's face is painted with confusion.
"No, mom, I just made a mistake and accidentally ruined her bush."
My face flames red. Now I look like a liar to both of them.
He stares at me, and I stare at my shoes. I look up, and Esme is looking confused, staring back and forth between us.
"You don't know how upsetting that can be for someone who puts so much heart into her garden. You have some making up to do."
He looks annoyed and just nods at his mom. I feel terrible. I was trying to let the situation die, but the flames just got stirred up ten-fold.
"Okay, well I better go get those groceries, so I can get on the road before dark. It was so nice to meet you."
He stays in my yard as we both watch his mom walk away. The silence is suffocating.
"I'm sorry. She just saw it... I wasn't going to say -"
"It's fine."
I nod.
"You have a little..." He reaches forward then pulls his hand back. Motioning to his face - the entire right side. I pull my glove off and follow his motion only to come back with my hand covered in dirt.
"A little? God why didn't your mother say anything?" I'm mortified - I stood for ten minutes with this woman and had dirt all over the side of my face. I start rubbing my face harshly.
"She's too polite."
"But you... you most certainly are not." My embarrassment and self consciousness bursts out as anger.
He steps back looking truly offended. "Oh, so you would rather go throughout your day looking like the swamp thing than have someone tell you?"
The Swamp Thing! How dare he? "Oh yeah, well... you're mommy grocery shops for you!" Seriously, he's at least twenty-eight. Why is his mother doing all of this for him?
Wow. I just took that to a whole new level - Elementary school to be specific.
"Hey! My mom likes to do nice things for me; that's not my fault!"
"Whatever," I huff, pulling my other glove off.
I expect him to walk away, but he just remains standing in my yard. His mother's car pulls out and goes down the street; she waves to us both as she drives by. We stand dumbly in my yard waving back.
He takes a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry for last week, they weren't really my friends. I started a new job, and they insisted on throwing a house warming party -"
"Parties." I correct him. His glare meets my own, and he forces a smile.
"Yes, I guess the plural would be correct. Anyway... if it happens again - which it shouldn't - feel free to just have them towed."
Why didn't I think of that? "I will."
"Good."
"Good."
My brother's car pulls up, saving me from the terribly awkward situation.
"I've got to go," I say heading to his Jeep.
"Wait! I know we got on the wrong foot, I was going to ask -"
"Got to go!" I repeat my back to him. I feel terrible for cutting him off, but I'm panicking and need to escape the situation. I don't turn around to watch him walk back to his property.
~*Exposed*~
Emmett brought his lawn mower, like he often does during the summer. He mows my lawn while Rose and I cook.
"Well, look who's awake. Look at that pretty smile." Rose is elbow deep in baby food, and I entertain Clair in her little bouncy seat. She beams at me with her drool filled smile. "Hello... hello," I say, grabbing at her toes. Not too long into playing she falls back asleep.
"She is such an easy baby," I gush to Rose who is all smiles.
"She is. She slept through the night last night."
"Really? Wow. That's early isn't it?"
"I guess. Just because she slept through the night doesn't mean we did though." She laughs. "Emmett was up every hour making sure she was breathing."
I laugh because my brother is an amazing dad.
"I swear he would nurse her if he could." We both laugh.
She turns from her bowl and puffs up her chest. "Shouldn't she wake up? Don't you think she's hungry? What if she went to the bathroom?" Rose says in a deep voice, mocking Emmett.
Emmett walks in the room bringing the scent of fresh grass with him. "What are you two laughing at?"
"Oh, nothing."
He lets it go easily and goes straight to his daughter.
"Leave her alone, Emmett; she's sleeping." Rose warns him.
"I'm just checking on her," he says, kissing his wife's cheek.
He throws his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. "Ugh, you're sweaty, Emmett."
"Oh yeah?" He forces my face playfully into his chest. "How about 'thank you so much for mowing my lawn - again!"
"Thank you!" I squirm away from him.
"Can I use your shower, sis?"
"Go for it."
Rose and I clean the kitchen before sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee. She nurses the baby, and we enjoy the music floating in from the kitchen. Emmett comes downstairs and helps himself to my fridge and coffee.
"There's candy in the drawer for you."
"You are awesome," he says. I can hear him digging around in the kitchen before he comes back with his bag of treats. Ever since I can remember, Emmett has had a sweet tooth like no other.
He sits on my recliner, and I cringe when I see he's crushing my decorative pillows. I don't say anything, because he always gives me a hard time.
"Do we really need the T.V. on?" Rose asks when Emmett puts a game on.
"Yep."
We continue talking and shush Emmett when he starts yelling at the T.V., waking the baby. All of a sudden the TV goes black then a blond woman at a desk takes over the set.
WBN Breaking News:
We interrupt your regular programming with breaking news, straight from the White House. The decision has just been made by the government and the World Health Organization - all International travel has been shut down until further notice.
Due to the increased spreading of the H6N2 virus in Europe, this is an extreme measure to keep the virus out of the United States. Twenty-three individuals have died this week in Europe alone, with many more fighting the illness. While domestic travel will still continue, people are being asked to stay home, unless necessary. If the flu can be contained, the travel ban should be lifted. In the event the flu comes stateside, schools, university and all public events will be cancelled for an undetermined amount of time.
We have Jonathan Wilkers on location in Rome, where the largest breakout has emerged. Jonathan, are you there?
Emmett places the T.V. on mute. A man in a hospital is on the screen walking around with a worried look on his face.
"That's really scary," Rose says, picking up Clair, holding her tightly to her chest.
"Do you think they will really close all the schools and stuff?" I asked panicked. Rose shakes her head, but I see fear in her eyes.
"Nah, it won't come to that." Emmett's words are sure, but his face isn't.
"They've never restricted travel before. We're supposed to see my parents soon." Rose says quietly.
"Don't worry until there's reason to worry, okay?"
We both nod at him, trusting his opinion. The mood in the room goes from light and fun to dark and tense.
"We should probably get home, so we can get Clair to bed."
"Oh okay, yeah, you guys have a drive ahead of you."
Rose carries the baby out after saying our goodbyes. Emmett goes around checking the locks on my back door and makes sure the bars are in my windows. I roll my eyes at him.
"You keep those bars in the window all the time, right?"
"Yep."
"Okay, good."
"Thanks for taking care of my lawn," I say, giving him a hug.
"Any time, sis. Love ya."
I stand on the front porch and wave to them as they drive away. Tears form in my eyes and one escapes down my cheek. I think about all those poor families who are losing loved ones in Europe as I watch mine drive away.
~*Exposed*~
I grab the most recent book I'm lost in and lay on the porch bench Emmett built for me. It's like a box built on the side of the house - basically, a hammock I can't fall out of. I just replaced the cushions for the season and they are fresh, clean and comfy. I'm lost in my book and don't hear the Lilac Killer approach. Out of the corner of my eye I see a flash of white.
"Shit!" I grab my chest and almost fall off my bench.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"What is that?"
"It's a t-shirt. The only white thing I had... it's my white flag, get it?" His smile is sweet, and I find it hard to be annoyed with him. I surprise myself by smiling back.
His hand comes out from behind his back and a bright red ceramic pot is in it with a green stem. "It's not bloomed yet, but I want to plant it in your yard and it will be my responsibility. I'll feed it, water it... everything."
I laugh at him. "You bought me a plant?"
"Would that make you happy?"
"It's a nice thought." I shrug.
"Then yes, I bought you a new baby lilac."
Oh my God. I think he's flirting with me!
"Are you sure it's a lilac?" The plant doesn't look right, but I'm not an expert, it's just a hobby for me.
"The picture above it at the store was of a lilac." He shrugs.
I push my glasses up on my face and hop down from my bench. "Thank you."
"I hope we can have a do-over as neighbors?"
"I think we can." I say, forcing myself to look at his face. I'm glad I did, because his smile is contagious.
"Edward." He puts his hand out formally to shake.
I take his hand in my own and get butterflies in my stomach. "Bella."
I always introduce myself as Isabella. At work it's all they know me as. I'm not sure why I told Edward my name I reserve for close friends and family.
"I'm having a barbecue next Friday, if you want to come by. Your boyfriend is welcome too, of course."
"Boyfriend?"
"The man you actually let mow your lawn." He gives me a crooked smile.
"Gross. No, that was my brother."
"Oh, okay." The air get's awkward before he speaks again. "He must do a better job than I did this morning, because I didn't see you throw any sleepwear at him."
"Sorry." I say, feeling embarrassed, wishing I had stayed upstairs this morning and let him kill my whole yard.
"Don't be. I'll see you on Friday?"
"Maybe," I say, knowing there's no way I'll be brave enough to go.
"Well, Bella, I will come to take care of our new plant soon."
I shouldn't like how he said 'our new plant' as much as I do. I nod my head, which causes my glasses to drop down. I wait until he turns around to push them back up.
Once he's out of sight, I pick up the plant from the porch, and I just know it's not a lilac. I dig in the soil and pull up the little identification tab and laugh.
"Tomato."
See you in a week or so!
Thanks for reading