Accidental Neighbor by Sharon Woods

Chapter 32

Jennifer

I drop my head and hunch my shoulders as I take small steps back to my parents’ house. I hold my breath in the hope he will call out my name, and his voice cracked with his final words. I hold a sliver of hope he would want me, that he would give us a second shot. Focusing on myself has been good, but it doesn’t change how much I miss him. And seeing him in casual jeans and a long-sleeve black shirt, smelling his spicy cologne mixed with alcohol sends thrills through me. Obviously, he has been out with his friends. My mind drifts back to the night we met—the freedom, the fun, and the first kiss.

The simplicity of it back then. Now it's a complicated mess and I don’t know what to do. We can barely talk to each other. There is still chemistry whenever we are in the same room together. But where do we go from here?

“You ready, Jennifer?” My dad's voice breaks into my thoughts.

Rolling my shoulders back and faking enthusiasm, I say, “Yep, let’s go.” I catch Dad's gaze darting behind me, and he offers a small wave. Rotating slightly, I catch Thomas waving and smiling at my dad. Snapping my head back around, I concentrate on getting out of here and away from him as soon as possible.

Entering my family's home, I walk back into my bedroom and scan it for anything I may have missed. Doing one final sweep, I crouch down to check under the bed. I spot a piece of paper. Lying on my stomach and army crawling, I reach out and grab it. Clutching it, I retreat backward, exiting from under the bed, then I lower myself down onto my heels. I unfold it and my face breaks into a wide smile.

Lily had drawn me, Rose, and herself. She gifted it to me on one of the nights we spent together. I bring it to my chest and then refold it and pop it gently into my pocket. With nothing else left behind, I exit and move to the kitchen. Mom has stacked container meals higher than our heads.

Laughing loudly, I say, “Mom, you know I can cook, right?”

“I know but I just wanted to help until you get settled in.” Her eyes are red and splotchy.

Moving closer to her with open arms, I say, “I’m just around the corner. You’re welcome anytime, okay?”

She sniffles, and I embrace her. She offers me a warm hug back.

“I’ll miss you, but I need this.”

“I know. I just hope I didn't force this because of the dinner with Thomas. I just don't really know if you’re ready to be a stepmom to two kids. It's—”

“Mom, enough. We aren't together. It has nothing to do with you or Dad. But just know, I would never enter into any relationship without wanting to or without giving it thought.”

"I know, but I just worry; you're still my daughter."

Peeling myself off her, I say, “I know and I love you. Let me pack these too. We don't need to cook for weeks now. Thanks.”

She composes herself as she scoops up the containers and helps me pack them into the car.

Thomas

It’s Saturday morning and I’m sorting through the boxes in the garage. My mom is here so I can deal with the mess of what I have yet to unpack in here. When I moved in, I left a few boxes in here, and I have been meaning to sort through them. With nothing else to do, I decided to tackle it today. Filling my days with jobs to do keeps my mind from wandering into thoughts of what she is doing.

Tearing open the last box, I find the belongings for the girls—Victoria’s items. My ears thump, and I just want to stop and tape the box back up, but I need to man up and deal with this shit. I need to be able to do what I came to do at this house. There will always be a gap where Victoria used to be, but I need to fill it with new memories, so I push the past the fear and pain and start sorting through the boxes with photos.

Pulling out a picture of the four of us crushes me. I gape at the picture, running my thumb over her beautiful face. I dig through more pictures to find the ones I should have put up for the girls.

They deserve to have a few photos of their mom around the house in memory without it killing me inside. As much as I wanted to come here and move on, I know it's important to cherish the wonderful mother the girls had. Show them how much they were loved. How precious they were to her. The photographs shouldn’t be stuffed in a box, forgotten. I’m angry at myself for letting my emotions take over my head.

With a collection of beautiful images that I want to place around the house, I turn to step into the house.

“Hello, Thomas?” I hear a deep voice call out.

“In here,” I call out to Paul, turning around to face him.

“Woah, look at this. You will be able to park here now.” He looks around as he gestures around the room.

I chuckle loudly. “Right. About time I sorted the last of the boxes.” I tilt my head in the direction of the last few boxes I emptied.

Nodding in the direction of the last box, nonchalantly, Paul asks, “What's in there; need a hand?”

“Well, ah, it was photos and my wife’s wedding dress. Just sentimental stuff for the girls.”

Paul’s face scrunches. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

I shake my head, offering him a small smile. “No, it’s fine, really… It’s time.”

“Do you mind if I ask how?” he asks softly.

I peer down at the top photo, a candid shot of her with the girls at the beach, hoping for the strength and courage to share. Her face staring back is encouraging me, smashing the wall I built to keep people protected, to keep my painful memories private.

The heavy question hangs in the air, and I’m still glancing down at the photo before gazing up into Paul’s stare and answering quietly. “A car accident. I was driving, and a drunk driver crossed over into our lane, hitting us head-on. Victoria didn’t make it.”

My eyes are full of unshed tears. He stares back at me all glossy-eyed, with a few tears leaking. He uses his thumb to wipe his eyes roughly. I glance away and move the empty boxes to the side with my feet to get them out of the way so I can park my car inside. I need the distraction before I let more tears go.

"I'm sorry. That's awful. I can't imagine," he chokes out as he moves one to the side before he stands in front of me.

I shrug. "Thanks."

He rubs his neck roughly before stuffing his hand in his pocket. “I wanted to talk to you, Thomas… Jennifer hasn’t said this, but I know she loves you. I didn’t think she should settle, but my wife reminded me that I fell in love with her when I was young. And if someone had stopped me, I wouldn't be as happy as I am right now. How can I take that away from my daughter? I haven't given her enough credit. She is smart and beautiful, and she wouldn't settle for anyone. We won't stand in your way anymore; you have our blessing.”

I stand frozen in time; is this really happening? Am I dreaming?

Loves me?

Blinking rapidly, the few tears sitting on my lower lashes fall onto my cheeks. I don’t have time to ask a question. He thrusts a piece of paper in front of him. I juggle the pictures with one hand and grab the paper in my other, then lower my gaze to it.

It's her new address.

My mouth moves a few times before any words spill out. “Thanks, Paul,” I mutter. I probably should say more but I am too stunned.

The emotions swirling through me right now are just too much. My heart is pounding wildly and a knot forms in my stomach. Jennifer loves me…

Do I love her?