What Happens at the Lake

Chapter 4

America’s Friendliest Town

“Hi. Do you deliver?”

The gray-haired man wearing a Sam nametag smiled. “Sure do. Where’s it going?”

“About a mile away, on Rosewood Lane.”

“Not a problem at all. I might be able to get you on the schedule for this afternoon, if you want.”

“Oh, that would be great. Thank you so much.”

“Do you know what you want delivered?”

“I have a list, mostly sheetrock and hardware and whatnot, but I thought I’d take a walk around to see if there’s anything I might’ve forgotten.”

He nodded. “You take your time. My name is Sam. I go on break in about a half hour, but I’ll look for you before I go to see if we can’t get you taken care of.”

Now this was the kind of hospitality I’d expected when I arrived in Laurel Lake, not the reception I’d received from the grumpy guy next door. At least I hadn’t seen him for the last two days. I’d gone over yesterday to tell him I’d ordered his replacement mailbox, but no one was home. In the daylight, I was able to check out his house. Flowerboxes, pretty curtains, a wreath on the front door—it made me wonder if there was a Mrs. Bunyan. I couldn’t imagine him decorating so nicely.

As I made my way up and down the aisles of the home-improvement store, my cell buzzed in my pocket. Digging it out, I tensed, expecting to see Noah’s name on the screen yet again. To my delight, it was Nilda—the woman I wished was my mom. My shoulders relaxed as I swiped to answer.

“Hey, Nilda!”

“Hello, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“How’s living in America’s Friendliest Town?”

“Well, it’s been interesting so far. The lake is gorgeous, so serene and peaceful. There are only houses on my side. The other side is protected state land, so when you stand out back, it looks like you’re in the wilderness. All you see is a giant lake and big, old trees.”

“That sounds like heaven.”

“It is. The outside anyway. The inside…not so much. Dad’s house was apparently occupied by a hoarder, and the place is pretty much falling apart. I spent yesterday filling a dumpster and still haven’t gotten rid of all the newspapers and VHS tapes.”

“Oh no. Are you staying somewhere else?”

I probably should’ve relocated with the condition the house was in, but I didn’t want Nilda to worry. “It’s livable. Just a little more work than I’d anticipated.”

“It’s a good thing my girl is the hardest worker I know.”

I smiled. “How are you feeling? Have you gone to the doctor about that pain in your back?”

“I’m working on it.”

“You said the same thing about the pain in your side a few years back, yet the only time you actually went to visit a doctor was when they took you out of the house on a stretcher because your appendix had burst. Do I need to call my mother on you?” There weren’t too many things the esteemed Dr. Melanie Preston took an interest in, but she loved to bully people into seeking proper healthcare.

Nilda sighed. “I’ll get an appointment soon. I promise. But speaking of Dr. Preston… Have you talked to your mother since your discharge?”

“She left me a voicemail, but I haven’t called her back yet.”

“I’m sure she’s concerned.”

I scoffed. “If she was concerned about how I was doing, she could’ve come to visit.”

Nilda said nothing. In the twenty-five years I’d known her, she’d never once badmouthed my mother, even when she clearly deserved it. And it wasn’t just because my mother was her employer, which she was. I doubted Nilda had ever talked crap about anyone. She was the kindest, most warm-hearted human on the planet. I owed her so much.

“Tell me about the people of Laurel Lake,” Nilda said. “Are they worthy of the America’s-Friendliest status?”

I could think of one person who didn’t represent the title Laurel Lake had carried for the last seventeen years running. Then again, I’d thought of him a little too often over the last forty-eight hours. It was time I forgot all about Mr. Grumpy. I wasn’t going to let one bad egg ruin the little town I’d fantasized about for most of my life.

“I haven’t met that many people yet,” I told Nilda. “But the guy at the home-improvement store is really sweet, and the lady at the coffee shop gave me a free cup yesterday when I told her I was new in town.”

Nilda and I talked for the next fifteen minutes while I meandered through the electrical supply and heating sections, picking up various items I hadn’t thought of when I’d made my shopping list. I wound up telling her about my neighbor, even though I’d told myself I was going to put him out of my head. Before we hung up, I reminded her to make a doctor’s appointment, but I was pretty sure I’d have to call my mother and get her involved in a few days. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past Nilda to not call the doctor just so I was forced to call Melanie. I’d never understood why she wanted me to have a relationship with my mother so badly, but I knew she meant well. After we hung up, I went to find Sam.

“I’m all ready to schedule the delivery,” I said, holding out my list.

Sam perused it. “Our guys are only allowed to deliver to your driveway. Unless you’re planning on using the sheetrock and wood right away, you might want to get a few tarps. They’re calling for a little rain in the forecast over the next few days.”

“Oh, good to know. Can you add that to my delivery, please?”

Sam winked. “You got it. And I’m going to set you up with George as your delivery driver. If you need anything carried in, he’s good about that. Some of the guys are lazy and hide behind the rules.”

“Thank you.”

He picked up a clipboard and scanned some papers. “I can have that to you between one and four today. If for some reason you’re not home, they’ll pile it all up in the middle of the driveway.”

“Okay. But I’ll definitely be home. I have a bed coming too.” I shook my head. “Thought I could get by on a blow-up mattress. But apparently my back figured out that I’m not a teenager anymore.”

Sam smiled. “You and me both.”

Hours later, I had my AirPods in while I watched a YouTube video on how to hang sheetrock when the kitchen table started to shake. I popped one earbud out and looked around. But I couldn’t figure out what had caused it. Until bang. Bang. Bang. I jumped. Jesus. It must’ve been the delivery driver, but the pounding was a little aggressive.

However, the hostility made sense when I opened the front door and found Paul Bunyan on the other side. His lips were set in a grim line. I decided to counter with an equally over-the-top greeting, but mine was happy.

I smiled from ear to ear, putting all my pearly whites on full display. “Hi, neighbor. It’s wonderful to see you.”

He grunted a word I couldn’t make out.

“What’s that?” I cupped my ear. “I didn’t catch what you barked.”

He scowled. “Are you expecting a delivery?”

“I am. Why?”

“Because they dumped your s**t in my driveway.”

“What?” My mouth dropped open. “They couldn’t have.” I squeezed around the oak-tree-sized man who seemed to like to stand in doorways and peered over at his driveway. Sure enough, my delivery was there. And the truck was nowhere to be found.

“I don’t know why they did that. I’ve been waiting all afternoon for that stuff to come.”

Mr. Bunyan held up a yellow carbon-copy invoice. “I have an idea.”

“What are you talking about?” I snatched the paper and scanned for the address. “Forty-four Rosewood Lane. They have the right address.”

“They do, huh?”

“Yes.”

He lifted his chin, gesturing behind me to the other side of the kitchen. I was confused at what he could possibly be showing me in my house to prove his point. Though my eyes widened when I caught on.

His dented mailbox.

His dented mailbox with the number painted on the side: Forty-four.

Oh s**t.

“I…” My shoulders slumped. “I screwed up.”

“You think?”

“I’ve walked by that mailbox so many times in the last two days, I guess the number unconsciously stuck in my brain.” I shook my head. “I’ll take care of it.”

“How?”

“Just don’t worry about it. It will be gone in an hour. Okay?”

His answer was a headshake. Mr. Happy turned and started to walk down my driveway. But then I thought of something.

“Hey, Paul?”

He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Is that supposed to be me?”

I closed my eyes. s**t. “Sorry. I, umm…is that not your name?”

“No, it is not.”

“What is your name?”

“Fox.”

“Fox? Is your full name Foxton or Foxwell or something?”

“Just Fox.”

“Okay, well, Just Fox… Did you happen to tip the driver? Because it wasn’t his fault that I gave the wrong house, and I don’t want to stiff him.”

Paul—or rather Fox—still had his back to me. Only now did he turn around and shake his head. “If I had seen them unloading onto my driveway, wouldn’t I have told them they had the wrong house?”

“Oh.” My face fell. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Shocker…”

My eyes bulged. “You don’t have to be so rude! I made an honest mistake.”

Fox kept walking. So I did the mature thing and stuck my tongue out at his back.

“I saw that,” he said, already halfway back to his property.

Seriously? What the hell? Did the jerk have eyes in the back of his head? I bet those were jade green and lined with dark black lashes too, like the ones above his perpetual scowl. Nevertheless, I grabbed my sneakers and pulled them on before heading next door to drag my delivery over where it belonged.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d ordered until I was looking at it up close. There was a lot of crap stacked on top of a big wooden pallet.

“Great,” I muttered as I bent to lift the first piece of sheetrock. Unfortunately, not only had I misjudged the quantity of what I ordered, I’d misjudged the weight, too. A single piece of sheetrock had to be close to fifty pounds, not to mention that it was a heck of a lot taller than me. My feeble attempt to carry it was a joke, so I quickly resorted to holding one end and dragging it across the lawn. I’d made it about ten feet when my load suddenly went light. Mr. Friendly hoisted the sheetrock into the air, up over his head, and proceeded to take it next door like he was carrying five pounds. I had to jog to catch up to his giant strides.

“I can do it,” I said.

“Where do you want it?”

“Umm… I guess in the driveway. The garage is packed with stuff the tenant left behind.”

“They’re calling for rain.”

“I got a tarp.”

“You need a pallet or the water will hit from the bottom.”

“Oh. There’s one at the bottom of the stuff they delivered.”

“And that will help me now…how?”

Good point. I frowned and looked around, as if a wooden pallet was going to magically appear on my lawn.

“My truck should be unlocked,” Fox grumbled. “Remote to open my garage is on the visor. There are a few wooden pallets leaning against the wall on the left side.”

“Okay.” I jogged next door while my surly neighbor waited with the sheetrock. Not surprisingly, his garage was immaculate, and the pallets were exactly where he’d said. I rushed back and set the wood down in the middle of the driveway.

Fox placed the sheetrock on top and headed back to the pile in his driveway.

“At least let me help you.” I chased after him. “It’ll be easier if we carry the sheetrock together.”

He shook his head without looking my way. “No, it won’t.”

This time when he bent to pick up a piece of the sheetrock, he grabbed two sheets. I refused to let him do all the work, so I lifted the next one and began to drag it across the grass. By the time I made it to my driveway, Fox had made two trips carrying two pieces of sheetrock at once. The giant man didn’t even break a damn sweat.

Fifteen minutes later, the big pile had been relocated to where it belonged. Fox gestured to the house.“You hire a contractor yet?” he asked.

“No. I’m going to do it myself.”

“You have a lot of experience hanging sheetrock?”

“No, but I’m watching YouTube videos to learn. It doesn’t look that hard.”

“Right. YouTube.” He smirked. “That sounds like a solid plan.”

My eyes narrowed. “What is your freaking problem?”

“Other than a busted mailbox and a bunch of s**t I didn’t order laying in my driveway when I pull in to park?”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you always such a Negative Nelly?”

“Realistic, not negative.”

“You don’t know me. Yet you’re certain I’m not capable of doing repairs myself?”

“In order to hang sheetrock, you have to be able to hold sheetrock.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You know, people in this town are supposed to be friendly.”

“And good neighbors should be seen not heard. We don’t all get what we want.”

“That saying is about children, not neighbors.” I wiped a drip of perspiration from my forehead, noting that there still wasn’t one tiny bead on Fox’s stupid brow. “And why the hell aren’t you sweating after carrying all that?”

“I exercise.”

My arms flailed in the air. “Are you implying that I don’t?”

Fox’s eyes skimmed over my body before locking with mine. “Didn’t say that.”

The way my body reacted threw me off my game. “Whatever,” I huffed. “Thank you for helping me carry everything.”

“You’re welcome.” He paused. “Again.”

The again ruined my attempt at a courteous exchange. Clearly this man wasn’t capable of niceties. I flashed an obviously bogus smile. “You have a great day.”

As seemed to be his signature move, Fox turned and walked away without a word. Who does that? Turns around without as much as a chin lift or a wave? Someone I don’t need in my life, that’s who.

Glancing over at my neighbor stalking back across his grass, I shook my head. The guy really is a jerk. My eyes dropped to his form-fitting jeans. But damn…a jerk with a great a*s.

The guy really is a jerk. But damn…a jerk with a great a*s.