Neighborly(40)

But nothing could be more ordinary. Branstone’s daughter, Zoe, is playing with Yolanda’s twin boys in the sandbox. Wyatt’s got his feet submerged beside them. Brandon and Yolanda are sitting on the edge, chattering away like magpies (I remember now that they watch each other’s kids a lot. Though right now, Wyatt’s doing all the watching). Stone is on a nearby bench, scrolling on his phone.

Doug pushes the stroller over to Wyatt, activates the foot brake, and then claps Wyatt on the back. Wyatt stands up and gives Doug a bear hug like they’ve known each other for years.

Yolanda is watching our approach, her eyes slightly narrowed, before her expression melts into a smile for me. Brandon leaps up. “Long time no see!” he crows. He clutches me in a hug.

“Hi!” I eke out.

When Brandon releases me, he smacks himself on the forehead. “I’ve been totally meaning to bring over some hand-me-downs for the little lady, if that’s all right. We spend way too much on Zoe’s clothes. It’d be great to keep them on the block.”

“Thanks,” I say with a smile. “But don’t worry; we’re getting by.”

“Of course you are. That baby of yours could be in a potato sack and she’d win first prize at the county fair.”

Yolanda laughs. “You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy.”

“I hope you’re wrong about that,” Brandon says.

The conversation between Yolanda and Brandon flows around me, a slow-moving current, and I can wade in whenever I feel like it or stand on the banks. It’s comfortable, nondemanding. I find myself hoping that neither of them wrote those notes, that neither of them grabbed Part C. They’re both around on weekdays, right? For reasons of scheduling, Stone’s off the hook. Maybe Wyatt, too, though cops can have irregular hours.

“Hey,” Doug calls over to me, “what do you think about having a housewarming party?”

I feel almost like he’s testing me, making sure that I’m still prepared to open up despite everything, and in such a public forum. But that’s not Doug’s way; he’s not underhanded like that. He loves a party, that’s all.

“We’ll talk about it,” I say.

“Uh-oh!” Stone laughs from his bench. Other than his initial wave and greeting, I hadn’t thought he was listening.

“We just need to get things more in order. Our house is still a mess.”

“It’s adorable,” Yolanda pronounces. “And so colorful.”

“It’s all Kat’s doing.” Doug grins at me.

Then he’s back talking to Wyatt, and I smile awkwardly at Yolanda and Brandon.

“I know you’re not completely settled in,” Brandon says, “but I bet you’ve at least gotten rid of all the bad juju?”

Yolanda smacks him on the shoulder playfully. “There’s no bad juju!”

“Nils and Ilsa?” He raises an eyebrow. “There’s some bad juju.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, my throat tightening just slightly.

“Brandon just likes to gossip.” Yolanda gives me a smile. “You have nothing to worry about.”

It seems like Wyatt kept his word and she really doesn’t know about the notes.

“It’s not gossip,” Brandon says. “It’s personal experience.”

“Story for another time.” Yolanda regards him fondly. There’s true affection between these two. But was there also a tiny hint of warning in her look?

“We should get going,” Doug calls to me. “Our girl’s getting antsy!”

I’d enjoy Main Street on an ordinary day, but the phrase bad juju keeps ringing in my ears. Could Nils and Ilsa be behind the notes? They sold us the house and then regretted it?

I’m tired of speculating, tired of everything all of a sudden. That morphs into irritability, which centers on Doug, perhaps unfairly.

I’m trying not to be bugged that Doug put me on the spot about the party, the same as he forced me into drinks at Oliver and Gina’s, which then reminds me of the bikes. I’m also trying to forget that Dad of the Year comment, and how Doug makes me twist his arm to get anything done in the house.

But he’s working hard these days, I know. I don’t want to resent him, and I do want us to spend more time strolling around the neighborhood, doing what normal people do. I want to get to know the Village. I like gelato as much as the next person.

I find myself trailing Doug, who’s using Sadie like a prop, since everywhere we go, she attracts attention. I stand by, doing my best to smile while he makes small talk, seemingly oblivious to my mood. He’s probably just chalking it up to introversion, thinking I should push myself out of my comfort zone. It’s not like he heard the bad juju remark, after all.

In the bike shop, Doug and the proprietor start gabbing away. He has me trying on helmets. He even picks one out for Sadie. Then there are the bike locks and rainproof covers that are perfectly sized, which also means perfectly expensive. “Couldn’t we just buy this stuff at Target?” I ask him when the owner steps away.

“You have to support local businesses!” he says with a cheerful smile.

I bounce Sadie up and down in my arms, smiling stiffly, while he talks to shopkeepers and customers alike. I watch him in his element. He doesn’t seem to notice (or care) how I’m feeling. I should probably tell him outright, but isn’t he the one who claimed, on our second date, that his skill was reading people and giving them what they want? That skill seems to have abandoned him when it comes to his own wife.