Snapshots of a Small-Town Life
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. Also, Bridgewater and Greyston County are fictional locations and the original characters that inhabit them are also fictional. Any resemblance they may bear to actual places is purely coincidental.
Rating: K
Chapter 3
The second photo showed their neighbor and trusted babysitter, Cassie Marlin, a solidly-built woman already in her early fifties when the photograph was taken, who had been the first person to welcome them into their new home…
"Knock knock."
"Who's there?" Sara called back, her head still in the oven she was trying to clean of what seemed to be decades of baked-on food, a process not helped by the fact that she didn't dare risk terrible birth-defects in her baby by exposing herself to oven-cleaner fumes.
"It's your new neighbor," came the reply. The voice was coming closer, and Sara realized that the speaker had let herself in through the open front door.
She withdrew her head from the oven and stood up.
"I just thought I'd pop in and introduce myself." At this point the stranger reached the kitchen. She was carrying a casserole dish, which she set down on the second-hand kitchen table in order to extend her hand to Sara. "Cassie Marlin," she smiled. "It's nice to meet you."
"Uh, same here," Sara managed. "I'm Sara Stokes."
The name still felt slightly strange on her tongue, but she didn't stumble over it as she had at first.
"Well, Sara, I won't stay long. I know how hectic moving can be. I just wanted to introduce myself and drop off the pie. It's tuna-fish: hope you like it." She continued in her cheerful manner without waiting for a reply, a habit which was to be come familiar to the Stokes' over many years of friendship. "I brought you a card as well. My number's on it, so if you need anything just give me a call. And I hope you and your husband can join me for dinner one night this week."
"I… that would be great," Sara replied, trying to remember whether, in five years in Las Vegas, she had ever exchanged more than a dozen words with any of her neighbors, let alone had dinner with one.
"Well, I won't keep you. Give me a call to let me know what night would be best. And don't work too hard."
And with that she had breezed out again, as she would do many times in the years to come.