Jake Gamble lived less than half a mile from them, in a little white clapboard cottage, with a fieldstone path, prairie grasses, and wildflowers. The house looks like Jake, in a way, simple, attractive, and bearing all the marks of someone for whom his own space is important. Gregory wonders if he’s a Cancer; Jake should be, at least if the line about their homes being important to them holds true. Gregory has watched him from a distance several times, shirtless and sweating, as he works on the garden, lifting pots, pulling weeds. He had been there when Gregory and Rosemary had moved in two years ago. Gregory tries to remember the first time he noticed Jake, and can’t. It seems the man has always been nearby. Would things be any different if the idyllic little cottage were inhabited by an
