Chapter 1: A New Neighbor
"Tom? Is that you?"
Elizabeth Lance shouted from the laundry room as her son Tom entered the house.
Tom poked his head into the laundry room. "Yeah, Mom, I just finished mowing, and I'm going to shower."
"OK, sweetie," she said. "Oh! We have a new neighbor. Somebody bought the old Dawkins house next door: a Mrs. Miller. I met her this morning. You should go over and say hello."
"Mrs. Miller, huh," he said. "OK, I'll swing by after my shower."
The Dawkins house was small, with just two bedrooms, but had been well maintained. Tom glanced at the lawn before ringing the doorbell.
A young woman with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail appeared at the door, looking exhausted. "Yes?" She said.
"Hi, I'm Tom Lance. I live next door. Is Mrs. Miller here?"
"That would be me," she said.
Tom looked confused. "You're Mrs. Miller?"
She laughed and said, "The one-and-only. Were you expecting somebody else?"
Tom hung his head. "Sorry. I guess I was expecting someone older, a second-grade teacher nearing retirement, and I have no idea why I thought that."
"Well," she said, "sorry to disappoint. Come on in. The place is a mess. Apparently, the movers dropped all the boxes off but were allergic to stairs. I've got quite a mess."
He stepped inside and said, "I see your point. I can help if you like."
"That's generous," she said, "but it's too much to do for free. How about twenty dollars an hour?"
"Where do I start?" He said.
After three hours and countless trips up and down the stairs, most boxes were staged in the correct rooms. Tom appeared wilted on his last trip down.
"You are a hard worker!" She said. "I thought I'd be doing this for days. Thank you! I'll just grab my purse."
"No need," he said. "Look, we're neighbors, and I was happy to help you get settled. I'm not going to take your money."
She stood with her hands on her hips. "Are you sure?"
"Mrs. Miller, I am very sure. I was happy to help," he said.
She shook her head. "OK. Two things: Number one, call me Jenny, and number two, I'm making you dinner tonight, and I'm not taking no for an answer."
Tom smiled and wiped his brow. "Dinner sounds wonderful, but I need a shower. When should I come back?"
Jenny said, "How about six? We'll have a drink and then eat. But be warned. It will be a pretty simple meal. I've not had time to do a big grocery run yet."
"No worries," he said. "I'll be back in a bit."
Tom walked across the yard and entered the side door to his house. His Mom was in the kitchen.
"Hey, Mom," he said.
"Where have you been?" She said. "And why are you so sweaty again?"
"Mrs. Miller needed some help moving boxes, so I pitched in. She's going to make me dinner as a thank you," he said.
"But I'm making meatloaf!" His Mom replied.
Tom kissed his mother on the head and said, "Just put mine in the fridge. You know I'll eat it. Nobody can resist your meatloaf." He kissed her again and said, "I'm going to shower."
He returned to Jessy's house a little after six o'clock and rang the bell. She had showered and changed and now wore jeans and a T-shirt.
"Come in," she said. "Have a seat at the table in the kitchen. I'll be right there."
He seated himself and then looked around.
"You've got a lot done," he said.
She returned to the kitchen and said, "I would give you a lot of credit for that. Beer?"
"Sure," he said.
She grabbed two bottles from the fridge and sat at the table. Once they were open, she held her bottle up, and Tom clinked it to his own. "To neighbors," he said.
"I," he said, then hesitated, "don't know how to ask this. Where is Mr. Miller?"
Jessy stared at her bottle before answering. "My husband died three years ago."
"I'm so sorry for your loss. And I'm sorry for prying," he said, looking down.
They were quiet for a time when Jenny said, "You didn't ask how he died."
He looked at her and shook his head. "It's not my place. You don't owe me that."
She nodded. "You are a very polite young man, and I wish everybody was like you." She took a deep breath and said, "Gray was driving back after visiting his folks when a drunk driver got on the interstate going the wrong way."
"I'm sorry," he said.
She stood and moved to the stove. "So was I," she said. "We'd only been married a year, and I didn't expect to be a widow at twenty-seven." She picked up a spatula. "Hamburgers?"
"That sounds great," he said.
"What about you?" She said as she began cooking. "What's your story?"
"I'm going into my senior year and plan on finishing my Electrical Engineering degree next Spring," he said.
"Oh! Young college stud," she said.
"A little older than my classmates, though," he said. "I took a gap year after high school."
"Travel the country? Toured Europe?" She asked as the hamburger began to sizzle.
"Hardly," he said, tipping his bottle. "I worked construction for a year to save some money. It was my Dad's idea, and I got a lot of great experience and put some money away."
"So, what does that make you twenty-two?" She asked.
"Twenty-three," he said, smiling.
"Well, old man," she said, "I'm glad you were still in good enough shape to run up and down those stairs!"
He chuckled. "I'll be sore in the morning."
They both laughed and took a drink.
When Tom returned home, his parents were sitting in the living room.
"Well, what can you tell us about our new neighbor?" His mom asked.