5
"So, do you get to see Mr. Paul a lot?" My sweet student Kaylee asked from her perch beside my desk. Playing with the hem of her shirt, she toed the carpet. "Are you friends?"
I smiled at her small form, finding it quite cute how she'd been asking so much about him ever since he'd helped her.
"Mr. Paul works a lot, sweetie." I told her what I had every other time before. "I don't see him very often. But if I did I'm sure we'd be friends." That caused her to look up and smile. I shooed her to her seat to get ready for quiet time.
We were ten minutes in when Lauren burst through the door, exciting the classroom I'd finally gotten settled all over again.
"Oh my God. Did you hear?" she blurted then covered her mouth. Looking at me, her eyes widened before turning to the class. "You guys heard nothing," she warned with a point of her finger. A cluster of little heads nodded, and Lauren straightened her blouse, heading over to sit on the edge of my desk. "There's been an accident."
My heart sank. I thought back on the daily roll call making sure everyone was present and accounted for. I wasn't missing any students that I could remember. Oh God. Was it one of Lauren's students? One of the parents? Another teacher?
"What? Who? Who was in an accident?" I asked, getting more antsy by the second.
"Not just who, but what. You know Kim McDaniels?"
"The music teacher?"
Lauren nodded. "Mmhmm."
"Of course. What about her? Was she in the accident? Oh, no. Is she okay?"
The look Lauren gave me was grave.
"Oh God. What? She's not okay? What, Lauren? For God's sake, tell me already!"
Checking to make sure the class wasn't listening, we continued our whispered exchange.
"You know that big storm we got over the weekend?"
I nodded.
"Well, I guess the worst of it was out at sea 'cause it capsized one of the crabbers."
My heart sank even deeper into my stomach. I felt sick.
"And Kim McDaniels' husband was on it."
A sadness settled over the classroom, quickly spreading like a fog throughout the town once the news broke. Not only had the sea claimed the life of Kim McDaniels' husband, but all the men on board. The school closed. I was slowly losing my mind not having anything to do but sit and wrack my brain for the name painted on the side of my neighbor's boat. For the life of me, I couldn't remember what it was, if he crabbed, or hopefully just fished.
The walks I took along the harbor to help jog my memory only made me feel more out of my element, almost as if I were intruding on the ceremonious memorials that were taking place. I witnessed a handful of them, standing back and watching idly as single white roses were clipped from their stems and tossed into the bay. An age old tradition, I was told. The flower tops, they floated for a while, all gathering together in a cluster that represented the fishermen's souls. And once they sank, the town's mourning period was over.
Even though businesses reopened and school was back in session, it was still in the air. The sadness. The longing of the families who had lost their loved one. There was no putting a time limit on the pain they endured. Some came to the docks to cry. Others just stared, squinting out into the big, wide blue, but all of them prayed for the safe return of the rest of the boats. The whole community did. Myself included.
With the lack of sleep I was getting, I ate more than ever. As a result I had permanently paced a line in the rug from the fridge to the window. Every night I hadn't woken to the squeaking of a screen door, I would look out the next morning in hopes I just hadn't heard it. But his truck was never there. He was never there.
"I'm sure he's fine. I mean, wouldn't Leah know if he wasn't? She is his landlord," Lauren reminded me. "And you know that bitch would be hunting down family, grieving or not, if it meant getting her money on time."
I kept my mouth shut where it concerned Leah, even though Lauren was right. Leah was anal that way.
"She's probably charging you both out the ass for this view, too."
I didn't know about charging me out the ass. All I knew was it was worth every pretty penny I had to pay. It also didn't hurt that my parents paid half. At least for the first year. After that, I was on my own. Then it'd probably be a different story.
Lauren took off later that afternoon, leaving me to watch the sunset alone on my front porch swing. But with everything going on in my head, I couldn't enjoy it because what if my neighbor was dead? What if he didn't have family to mourn him? Maybe I should have clipped a flower for him. Just in case.
It turned out my worries were all for nothing when I finally heard what sounded like his truck puttering up the small hill in our shared driveway.
My heart sped.
My first instinct was to run up and give him a hug and make sure he was okay once he'd parked and climbed out of the cab of his truck. But I didn't.
When he waved, I waved. And that was that. He disappeared into his house and I hadn't seen him since.
.
"Well, this is a good thing, isn't it? I mean, he's still alive. Yay!"
As much as a part of me wanted to argue with Lauren's reasoning, I couldn't because who cared if he continued to be aloof or not? He was still alive and that was good, no matter how you looked at it.
It wasn't as if he owed me anything. It wasn't like I expected him to take time out of his day to stop by, maybe say, "Hey, I just wanted to let you know I'm not dead so you can stop worrying now." But I couldn't help wanting him to. Just maybe not in those exact words.
It was silly, really, putting this all on him when I could have taken the time out to go over there, maybe bake him a yay-you're-still-alive bundt cake. I had just bought a new pan.
Who knew? Maybe he was waiting for me to make the first move and check in on him. It wasn't like anything was stopping me. Except me.
Later that night I ran the idea by Leah just to make sure it didn't sound stupid.
"I was thinking, maybe I should make him dinner or something. Just a nice gesture to say, 'Hey there, neighbor. Glad to see you're not dead. Here's some chicken.'"
Picking at her salad, Leah didn't acknowledge me.
"You think he likes chicken?" I asked in desperate need of her opinion, which wasn't all that encouraging or helpful.
"It's chicken. Who doesn't?"
"Well, you think he'd like Italian chicken? It's where you cook the chicken in Italian dressing."
"I know what Italian chicken is," Leah said, scowling up at me before going back to picking at her salad. Ignoring her foul mood I went on.
"I've been craving it anyway. And I always make too much." I shrugged. "But it's not for everyone. What if he doesn't like it?"
"It's chicken, Bella." Leah repeated. "All men like chicken. Every kind. I'm sure he'll be beyond delighted to have your excess bird meat."
I nodded, made a little more sure about my plan. All I needed now was to get Leah to eat a carb or get out of my house. Tomorrow I would pick up the ingredients after work, prepare the chicken, then be ready to make the first move as the friendly new neighbor. It was only a couple months too late.
.
As expected, the next day moved at a slug's pace. I had to slow myself down in order to not rush through the afternoon lessons. When the bell rang, I was the first person out the door—right after all my students had been picked up, of course. By six I was standing outside Paul's house, working up the courage to knock.
Before the sun had totally set, I rapped my knuckles lightly against the chipped wood. When he didn't answer, I did it a little harder. I waited so long the plate warming my hands cooled in the wind. And the moment I could no longer feel my fingers, I gave up and left the plate on his porch. I stopped to turn back and go get the plate multiple times before ultimately deciding to leave it there. I did my best to not think about it so I wouldn't toss and turn all night feeling like an absolute idiot.
Popping in my ear phones I closed my eyes to deal with things the only way I knew how.
Listening to a true crime podcast.
I woke some time later that night with the hosts still yammering in my ears. Pulling out the pods, I turned over to settle back in when I remembered.
My eyes popped open. I sat straight up to look out the window to find the plate missing from his porch.
Lying back down, I smiled.
NONcanon REC - The Alpha's Prerogative by Taoist Elf. Sam and Bella.