Magic and Decay (15 page)

He cleared his
throat and the last laugh lines around his eyes disappeared. “My real estate
agent,” he explained. “It was kind of like a ‘thank you’ present for buying the
house. He thought he was doing something nice for me.”

I snorted at
that, thinking how my little girl could have… No, I couldn’t go there;
physically, I was not emotionally capable of thinking that thought through.

“I really am
sorry,” he offered genuinely, his dark eyes flashing with true emotion. “I got
in late last night, and passed out on the couch. I didn’t even know the pool
was full or the gate was open until I heard you screaming out here.”

Guilt settled in
my stomach like acid, and I regretted my harsh tone with him. This wasn’t his
fault. I just wanted to blame someone else.

“Look, I’m sorry
I was snappish about the pool. I just, I was just worried about Abby. I took it
out on you,” I relented, but wouldn’t look him in the eye. I’d always been
terrible at apologies. When Grady and I would fight, I could never bring myself
to tell him I felt sorry. Eventually, he’d just look at me and say, “I forgive
you, Lizzy. Now come here and make it up to me.” With anyone else my pride
would have refused to let me give in; but with Grady, the way he smoothed over
my stubbornness and let me get away with keeping my dignity, worked every
single time.

“It’s alright, I
can understand that,” my new neighbor agreed.

We stood there
awkwardly for a few more moments, before I swooped down to pick up my plaid
pants and discarded robe. “Alright, well I need to go get the kids ready for
school. Thanks for convincing her to get out. Who knows how long we would have
been stuck there playing
Finding
Nemo
.”

He chuckled but
his eyes were confused. “Is that like Marco Polo?”

I shot him a
questioning glance, wondering if he was serious or not. “No kids?” I asked.

He laughed
again.
“Nope, life-long bachelor.”
He waved the box of
Pop-Tarts and realization dawned on me. He hadn’t really seemed like a father
before now, but in my world- my four kids, soccer mom, neighborhood watch
secretary, active member of the PTO world- it was almost unfathomable to me
that someone his age could not have kids.

I cleared my
throat, “It’s uh, a little kid movie. Disney,” I explained and understanding
lit his expression. “Um, thanks again.” I turned to Abby who was finishing up
her breakfast, “Let’s go, Abs, you’re making us late for school.”

“I’m Ben by the
way,” he called out to my back. “Ben Tyler.”

I snorted to
myself at the two first names- it somehow seemed appropriate for the handsome
life-long bachelor, but ridiculous all the same.

“Liz Carson,” I
called over my shoulder. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Uh, the
towels?” he shouted after me when we’d reached the gate.

I turned around
with a dropped mouth, thinking a hundred different vile things about my new
neighbor. “Can’t we… I…” I glanced down helplessly at my bare legs poking out
of the bottom of the towel he’d just lent me.

“Liz,” he
laughed familiarly, and I tried not to resent him. “I’m just teasing. Bring
them back whenever.”

I growled
something unintelligible that I hope sounded like “thank you” and spun on my
heel, shooing Abby onto the lawn between our houses.

“Nice to meet
you, neighbor,” he called out over the fence.

“You too,” I
mumbled, not even turning my head to look back at him.

Obviously he was
single and unattached. He was way too smug for his own good. I just hoped he
would keep his gate locked and loud parties few and far between. He seemed like
the type to throw frat party-like
keggers
and hire
strippers for the weekend. I had a family to
raise
, a
family that was quickly falling apart while I floundered to hold us together
with tired arms and a broken spirit. I didn’t need a nosy neighbor handing out
Pop-Tarts and sarcasm interfering with my life.