"What renovations?"
"I'm, um...I'm fixing the sidewalk."
"That doesn't affect me staying there."
"It'll be loud and messy and...you just wouldn't want to be here."
"When are you fixing the sidewalk? I'm sure that won't take all summer."
She's really pushing this. Normally she'd accept my excuse and stop bugging me. I guess I just need to be honest.
"It's not about the sidewalk. I just don't like having guests."
"I'm not a guest. I'm a friend. And I'm coming to see you. Let me check my schedule and I'll get back to you about when I'll be there."
"No! Trina, you can't—"
"Oh, shit, it's late. I have to get to a meeting. I'll talk to you later. Bye!"
And then she hangs up.
I storm into Lou's office, holding up my phone. "Did you put her up to this?"
He leans back in his chair, resting his hands over his fat belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. Did you finish the cookies yet?"
"Don't lie to me, Lou. I know you called Trina and told her to come here. How did you even get her number?"
He stands up and goes around me. "Get your butt back to the kitchen and get to work. I don't have time for chit-chat. The lunch crowd will be arriving soon." He walks off, leaving me in his office.
I curse to myself as I make my way back to the ovens where a timer is now beeping. As I'm removing the baking sheets, I feel my anger rising. There is no way Trina's staying with me. Nobody stays in that house but me. I haven't even let anyone come into my house until today, and technically I didn't let Nash inside. He invited himself in, or more accurately barged in after I told him not to.
But I won't let him do it again. Hopefully, I won't have to speak to him again. We're neighbors, but that doesn't mean we have to be friends.
Chapter Four
Nash
After spending an hour working on the piece of shit lawn mower, I discovered one of the parts was too rusted out to use. Luckily I was able to get a new one at the hardware store downtown. It's one of those old-fashioned, family-owned hardware stores. I'm surprised it's survived, having to compete with all the big box hardware stores that have sprouted up in what's considered the other part of town. The area where the year-round people live. It's newer and more developed than the area where I'm staying.
I'm in the old part of town, the tourist area, close to the lake and the state park. A lot of people have vacation homes here but don't stay for the whole summer. That seems to be the case for the street I'm living on. Aside from my house and Callie's, the rest of the houses seem to be unoccupied. I'm guessing their owners show up for a couple weeks, then leave.
As I'm heading out of the hardware store, I spot Lou's across the street. I'm starving and have no food at my place so decide to stop for lunch. Maybe I'll run into my little firecracker while I'm there. I laugh to myself just thinking of her. I still can't believe she thought I was shooting at her. Why the hell would I shoot at her?
"Sit wherever you'd like," a smiling blond woman says as I walk in. "I'll be with you in a minute."
The place is filling up with people so I take a seat at the counter. The menus are lined up in a metal stand so I grab one and look it over. It's a small menu. Mostly sandwiches and a few salads.
"What can I get you?" a man asks in a gruff, gravelly voice. I look up and see an older man with thin white hair that he's combed over his balding head. He has a big belly and round face that hasn't been shaved in a couple days. He's dressed in black pants and a short-sleeve white cotton shirt, a big white apron stretched over his middle. His chubby fingers are holding a small green order pad and he's staring at me, seeming impatient.
I glance down at the menu. "What do you recommend?"
"People seem to like the chicken salad," he says.
I find it on the menu. "It's got cranberries in it. I don't like fruit in chicken salad."
"Finally," he mutters. "A man's man."
"What?" I look up at him.
"Nothing."
"I'll have the reuben." I set my menu back in the holder.
"It comes with chips or a salad."
"Chips. And a Coke."
"Anything for dessert?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"If you want one you should order it now." He points to the bakery case behind him. "We're starting to run out and when it's gone it's gone."
There's a sign for brownies but the tray is empty. "So you're out of brownies?"
"I think we got a few left." He goes over and props open a door to the kitchen. "Callie, you got any brownies back there?"
"Yeah, we have eight," I hear her say.
"Bring one out when you get a chance." His eyes dart to me. "To the kid at the counter. White t-shirt."
Kid? I'm not a kid.
The kitchen door falls shut and he walks to the register. "You're new here," he says, punching in my order. "You here on vacation?"
"No. I'm here to work."
"Where you working?"