Fear Thy Neighbor (40)

“No, I wouldn’t want to screw up your day, but thanks,” said Alison.

“You wouldn’t be. As I said, the store is dead. Renée left me a note saying she was going to the mall with a friend. You’d be doing me a favor.”

“Then I accept. I’m at the cottage now,” she told her. “Do you want to meet me here or in the public parking area?”

“I’ll meet you at your place. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the inside. Give me ten minutes to close up shop.”

“Thanks,” Ali said, glad for the company. She really liked Valentina and Renée. They were both kind and helpful. She hoped to remain friends with both of them.

Ali made a mental list of the items she would need for the night. Starting from scratch, she needed a bed, but this late in the day, she’d simply use the sleeping bag, now covered in cat hair, that she’d had for years. Since she was going to town, she planned on stopping at the dollar store to get a lamp and a few basics for the night. Maybe she’d run into Tammy and see the kittens she’d rescued.

She heard a light knock on the front door. “Hang on,” Ali called.

She unlocked the door, and Valentina came inside, walking with her to the kitchen. “Wow, I remember all this knotty pine. Looks like it’s still in decent condition.”

“I don’t know a lot about the wood, but I’ll learn. I’ll polish it up, and hopefully, the walls will sparkle, though it’s a bit dark. Not sure what I can do to give this place some light. Like at your place,” Ali said.

“This is rustic, but charming. Don’t knock it, seriously. I’ll help you, if that’s what you want. I’m pretty good at decorating. It looks like your windows have been covered with sun-protecting film. Remove that, and you’ll get as much sun as my place does.”

“I didn’t notice, but I’ll definitely remove the stuff. Your place is gorgeous,” said Ali, not wanting to ask how Valentina was able to afford it when her souvenir shop wasn’t that busy during the summer months.

“It’s nice,” Valentina said. “Too big for the two of us, though when we fight, it’s great to have all that space between us.”

Ali laughed. “I can’t believe you two fight.”

“Not often, but we have our moments. Renée is a good girl. A little nosy. No, I take that back—she is extremely nosy.”

They both laughed.

“You’re lucky you have her,” Ali said. “At my age, I’m not sure if kids are in my future.”

Valentina swiped her hair away from her eyes. “By choice, or you haven’t met the right guy?”

“Maybe a little of both. I’ve been on my own for so long I don’t know if I could share my life with a man, let alone a child. Though I like kids, don’t get me wrong. If it’s meant to be, I suppose it could happen, but I’m not looking for anyone.”

“You’re honest. I like that. Women often get pressured into marriage, then kids. I think society expects us to marry, have babies, and live happily ever after.” Valentina spoke with a trace of sadness in her voice.

“Have you ever married?” Ali asked. Just because Valentina had a teenage daughter didn’t necessarily mean she’d been married. “If that’s too personal, it’s okay.”

“Renée is rubbing off on you,” she teased. “It’s fine, really. Yes, I was married once. A Frenchman, if you can imagine that.”

“I can,” Ali said. “You’re refined, not like me.”

Shaking her head, Valentina said, “No, I am not refined in the way you think. I was born into a wealthy family. An only child. My parents died in a fire when I was fifteen. I miss them still,” she said. “I only wish they’d lived to meet my daughter.”

Alison didn’t know what to say in response to such revealing personal details from a woman she thought refined and classy, even though she said otherwise. She sensed her new friend didn’t have such a high opinion of herself. She was unsure why, as Valentina seemed to have everything. But Ali knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. Confidence and self-esteem weren’t guaranteed regardless of one’s family or wealth. She’d had a few experiences when she waitressed in some of Florida’s finest establishments. Some of the female customers were competitive, childish, and downright mean. Ali had to bite her tongue more than once when she’d encountered the wealthy women who’d treated her like garbage. Always thinking of the tips, she learned to smile, agree, and do what was asked of her. In the long run, it didn’t matter. She hadn’t worked in fancy restaurants to make friends. It was all about the money. All about her future—and now that she’d achieved one of her main goals, she had the last laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” Ali said, and meant it. “I never knew my parents.”

“I figured as much. It’s not always a bad thing, Alison. Some folks aren’t meant to have children.”

“I suppose. I’m not exactly sure what my mother or father’s circumstances were, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m an adult now, with my own life.”

Valentina nodded. “You’ve a good attitude, and that’s what matters. So,” she said, “do you want to drive, or should I?”