I peeked out the window beside the door and saw a short, wide person standing there. I unlatched the chain, flipped the dead bolt, and opened the door a foot. “Hello?”
“Oh, hi.” The woman wore an overlarge white shirt with a picture of a kitten on it and tight, black leggings. Her hair was in disarray, a mop of ringlets, and her face crinkly. Despite all that she managed to look fresh and bright, her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkling merrily like some ginger-haired Mrs. Claus. “I’m looking for Mouse, my cat Mouse. I haven’t seen him in…oh, it’s been a full day now, and—”
She paused when I opened the door wider to reveal the orange cat sprawled on our ottoman.
“Mouse,” she cried. “You horrible cat, look at you, making yourself right at home.”
Ah, so Mouse had a home, and it wasn’t here. That couldn’t be disappointment. I had no desire to keep a cat, and definitely not this one, so presumptuous and rotund. Not very mousy, either. Well, I told myself, thank God for that. To the woman I said, “He just started coming around, so—”
“Of course,” she said. “You wouldn’t know he was ours, what with us being so new here. I haven’t even had time to come around and say hello to you guys. Oh! What am I saying? I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Linda. What was your name, dear?”
“Allie,” I said quickly, feeling like I’d been sent to the nurse’s office. Not that she was examining me or sending me home or anything, just that was the last time a woman had really spoken to me.
“Allie,” she said. “You don’t mind if I call you that, do you? I hope you don’t think I was too rude, just moving in and not saying a word, and then coming around to find my cat on your furniture. He knows better than that. You know better than that, Mousy! That’s what cat trees are for.”
She paused for breath, watching me expectantly.
“No, it’s not rude at all. I just…actually I’m new here too.”
“Are you? Well, that’s great! We can get settled in together. It’s a very nice neighborhood, don’t you think? Yes, very quiet. No bad happenings go on, that sort of thing. Did you know? At my last house the person across the street from me rode a motorcycle.”
I paused, unable to come up with a suitable reply to that. I liked things quiet too, but if ever Colin or I brought trouble to the neighborhood, it would be a lot messier than a motorcycle.
“Well, don’t worry your young head about that,” she said. “This is a nice, safe place. And you have a man to watch after you. Yes, that’s right, I’ve seen him coming and going. And what a man, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
I shook my head, but she spoke before I could.
“Yes, he looks very strong, which is always good in a man, I should think. My William was strong too, don’t you know? Well, until the very end, bless his heart. Thirty-two years, it was. Now tell me, how long have you been married?”
She tilted her head at me, her eyes bright with expectation. Motherfucking hell.
Lies ran through my head, as stupid as that would be. Of course she’d find out, and what was the point of that? I couldn’t be ashamed of this. I’d done a lot worse in my life than live with a man who wasn’t my husband.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We aren’t married.”
“Oh.” Now it was her turn to gape like a fish. To her credit she recovered quickly. “You know, that is okay. Don’t you worry your pretty head about that. I know how young people carry on these days.”
I had a strong suspicion she had no fucking clue how young people carried on these days, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
A squawk from the kitchen knocked me from my daze, and I rushed in with Linda on my heels. Bailey just squealed and kicked, eager to join the conversation. Linda blinked a few times, and then must have decided this was all part of the carrying on.
“Oh, you pretty girl,” she exclaimed to Bailey. “And what is your name?”
Somewhat awkwardly, as if I were interrupting the conversation, I said, “Her name’s Bailey.”
Linda didn’t miss a beat. “Bailey! Beautiful Bailey, is that what they call you? Yes, you are. Yes, you are. Oh, yes, you are.”
Bailey preened.
“You sweet thing. You pretty girl,” Linda cooed.
Bailey offered up a smooshed strawberry chunk atop a chubby palm. I rolled my eyes. The girl sure knew how to work an audience.
“Oh, thank you. Yes, thank you.” Linda accepted the strawberry chunk and held it behind her, where I slipped it from her hand and into the trash can. We grown-ups had to stick together.
Linda turned to me. “Listen, sweetie. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to run. But you know you can come and stop by anytime. I’m a great listener, you know, if you’re ever having problems. Not that you would. You’re such a dear. I’ll see you around.”
As she went through the living room she picked up Mouse, whose long, thick body hung like a pendulum from where she’d clasped him to her chest. And then she was gone through the front door in a whoosh of bouncing auburn-gray curls and fresh air.