Over the Fence (11 page)

“Hey, Nathan. Heather told me you wanted one of the old cell phones reactivated under your name?”

I nodded, holding out my hand for the slightly outdated phone, smiling when I saw the color—red. Kourtney liked the color red, given her flowerboxes and laptop cover, and I knew she’d at least be happy with the color.

She frowned as she handed me the small phone. “I have newer ones, you know—ones with more features and capabilities? This one seems rather backward for you.”

“No. I need one as simple to use as possible. You added a text plan to it?”

“Yes, and it’s billed to you as per your instructions, but under our group plan. I am going to assume it’s not for your use?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s for my girlfriend.”

It wasn’t until her eyebrows shot up I realized what I had said.

“Oh. I didn’t know . . .” She trailed off.

I waved my hand. “No. It’s fine. We’re pretty, ah, new.” Internally, I snorted. So new I didn’t even know it myself. “She isn’t much for technology. I’m trying to bring her a little more up to date.”

Shannon laughed. “That should be fun for you. A new project.”

“She’s rather leery of a lot of technical gadgets. She needs things simple and easy to use.” I smirked as I thought about her laptop.

“Well, I guess it explains your recent good mood.” Shannon winked with a knowing grin. “And all the homemade lunches you’ve been bringing in.”

I paused, surprised anyone had noticed a change, or even the fact there had been one. Thinking about it, I knew she was right. I had been laughing more and bringing a decent lunch. I nodded happily. “She takes care of me. I’m trying to return the favor.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it, Nathan. See you later.” Shannon waved as she left the office.

I picked up the phone I got for Kourtney and set to work. After getting the information, I programmed her number into my phone and added a ringtone for her. Then, opening hers, I set up a few things and added my cell and work number into her contacts and made sure the text option worked. Smirking, I added “
Tomcat Prowl”
as the ringtones for the numbers, knowing it would make her laugh. I looked at her contact list snickering; there were only the two numbers: Gnat Cell and Gnat Work. As far as I was concerned, they were all she needed, but tonight I would explain to her how to add others, plus use the phone and text option. Patiently.

I drew in a deep breath, letting it out slow.

I needed to be patient on a lot of levels, because as soon as the word left my lips I knew that was what I wanted. I repeated the word out loud.
Girlfriend
. I snorted and shook my head—I hadn’t had a girlfriend since I was sixteen—I wasn’t even sure if I knew how to be a grown-up version. I’d avoided all close relationships since I got out of prison. Ones like I had with Sylvia suited me fine—scratched the proverbial itch, but I steered clear of emotional attachments.

Until Kourtney—my shy but friendly, mysterious neighbor.

I wanted Kourtney to be my girlfriend. I wanted to learn how to be the guy for her. It was an odd sensation, one I didn’t think I’d ever want in my life. For the first time in many years I wanted to be close to someone else. I wanted to get to know her, and her to know me. I wanted to take care of her. Everything in me told me it was what she needed; the same way I needed her to take care of me. She was alone as I was. I wanted to remove the fence permanently—then we could take care of each other.

For now though, I wanted her to have this phone. I would feel better knowing she had a cell phone and knew how to use it. I knew, without a doubt, if she decided to get one, she would be talked into some long-term plan with a high-tech cell phone she would never figure out how to use. This one was basic, wouldn’t overwhelm her, and when she was ready, I would help her upgrade to a newer one if she wanted. Until then, I wanted to be able to get hold of her, and should the occasion arise, I wanted her to be able to contact me if she needed to, and especially if she wanted to.

I needed her to want to talk to me.

And I wanted her to need me.

I tapped the top of the fence, ignoring the container sitting there, beckoning me with its contents. “Chefgirl. You know the rules.”

“Nat, it’s raining.”

“I saw the umbrella. Give it up.” I tapped again.

“I’m not sure why this new ritual is so important to you,” she grumbled.

“It just is.” I shrugged, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “Hand, please.”

I heard her overdramatic sigh and smirked. It grew wider as I saw the umbrella come into view and her hand appear. I stretched and clasped the tips of her fingers. “My chair is slippery, so I need you to come closer. Only one more step—please?” I implored. Her hand withdrew as she used it for leverage and reappeared. This time I was able to grasp it almost entirely.

“Hi, Kourtney.”

“Hello, Nathan.”

“I can feel you rolling your eyes at me, you know,” I teased.

“Oh, now you have magical powers? Like your fridge?”

“I always have. How do you think you got here?”

“Um, in a car?”

“Only because I let you think that. I wished for my own personal chef and abracadabra—here you are.”

“Wow. I think I need to add delusional to my earlier deranged comment.” she stated dryly, then let out a string of her sun-filled giggles.

I chuckled with her, loving the sounds she made when happy. Her voice soothed all the rough edges, leaving me relaxed.

“Go eat your dinner.”

I clutched her hand, feeling nervous. “Wait. I need something.”

“What now?”

“I need you to come back after you’re done. I have something for you.”

“Something for me?”

“Yeah. But not until after dinner. Meet me back here . . . unless I come over?”

The question hung heavy in the air; the silence was deafening, but telling.

“I’ll meet you back here in half an hour.”

I sighed, not surprised by her answer, but knew not to push. Releasing her hand, I tugged at the container. “Holy shit, this is heavy. What’s in here?”

“Something I thought you might like. I hope you enjoy it.”

As soon as I was on firm ground, I opened the lid and groaned. “I’m gonna need forty-five minutes for this!”

Her laughter drifted across the fence. “See you then.”

Carefully, I hauled myself back up on the chair, glad it had stopped raining. I wanted to be able to talk Kourtney through how to use the phone without worrying she was getting soaked while doing so. If she didn’t have an umbrella in her hand she couldn’t smack me with it for giving her the phone, either. It was a win-win situation for me.

The door opened and her footsteps approach the fence. “You there?”

I grinned. “Yep. But you’re lucky I can walk after that feast.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t as good as your mom’s, but I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“It wasn’t as good, Kourtney. It was better. I almost licked the container.”

Her tone was shocked. “You didn’t eat all of it, did you?”

“I wanted to, but no. I saved some. It was the best pot roast I’ve ever tasted. Did you make it because I mentioned my mom’s?”

“It was in your bag of beef yesterday. And you talked about it, so I thought it was a good indication you wanted one. I’ve had it cooking since last night.”

“Thank you. It was amazing. I’m quite sure I’ll have people weeping tomorrow as I eat the leftovers at lunch,” I added with glee.

“Hmm, not sure I should be encouraging your continued torture of your co-workers.”

“They deserve it. It’s all good.”

“Okay, then . . .”

There was my cue. Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out the small phone. “Hand, please.”

She sighed. “We already did this, Tomcat.”

I laughed. “Humor me.”

I heard her small huff, but her hand came into view, palm side up which was perfect. Stretching over, I placed the phone in her palm with a gentle squeeze as her fingers curled around it. Her hand disappeared and for a minute there was silence.

“What’s this?”

“It’s called a
cellphone
, Kourtney. Say it with me. Cellllllphonnnne.”

“I know
what
it is, Nathan, but why are you giving it to me?”

“It’s for you.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to have it.”

“But—”

“No buts, Kourtney. Please. You should have one. What if your car broke down or you needed something?”

“I could walk to a phone booth. I’ve managed to get along without one until now.”

“Well, now you don’t have to.”

Her voice dropped. “It seems such a waste for me to have one.”

I was confused. “A waste? Why would you say that?”

“I don’t, um, have anyone to call.” By the time she finished speaking, her voice was almost inaudible.

My throat felt tight. “You can call me—anytime; day or night, I mean it.”

“I don’t know how, and I don’t know your number.”

“You do now.”

“What?”

“Pay attention, Kourtney. You’re about to get cellphone lesson number one.”

I grinned down at the screen at Kourtney’s text. “Well, aside from the horrendous spelling errors, you did it. You have now called and texted me.”

She huffed—the air rising in white wisps above the fence. “It’s cold and my fingers are shaking, Nathan. Even my socks are damp.”

I realized she was right, the air was very cold. I hadn’t even noticed, and as much as I didn’t want her to leave, I also didn’t want her chilled. “You wear socks in the summer?”

“My feet get cold a lot. I prefer fuzzy ones most of the time.”

I stored that piece of information away for later.

“Are they red?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

I snickered. “Magic.”

“Whatever.”

“Okay, go inside. Send me some more texts.”

“Yeah?”

I liked her quiet enthusiasm. She had understood everything I had shown her, and I thought she was quite excited about her little phone. “Yeah.”

“Okay. But, wait. You have to pay for this, right? Will I get a bill or something?”

Right there was the part I was dreading; her refusal to accept this one small thing from me. “No, Chefgirl.”

“Why? I know they aren’t free.”

“It’s magic?” I offered hopeful she would leave it alone.

“Nathan. Tell me, or I am giving it back. I mean it.”

I smirked at her stern tone.

“The phone cost nothing—it was a recycled phone from work. I added you to my work plan—my treat.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Yeah, I can. It’s cheap, I promise. With everything you do for me, I wanted to do something for you.”

“Nathan—”

“Kourtney. The honest truth is: I’m doing it for myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel better knowing you have a means of on-the-go communication. I like knowing if you needed something, you can call me and ask. And the same for me—I can call you. Please, let me do this for you.”

“You can call me?”

“Yeah, it’s the latest craze, Kourtney. It sends
and
receives calls.”

“Ass.”

I hit speed dial, amused as “
Tomcat Prowl
” hummed over the fence, and I snickered as Kourtney’s giggles filled the air.