“I doubt that.”
He sat down in the chair beside me, crossing his lengthy fingers against his chest. Nervousness set in my bones and caused me to gulp more of the hot tea that I had been sipping on. I wished I could be sipping on wine right now to calm my nerves swirling around at our closeness, but I was on-call. So, hot tea it was.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked, placing my cup back in my lap.
“Sure.”
“How do you afford your house?”
Loud laughter filled the air and my mouth fell open. Was something funny?
“That’s your question? I figured you were going to ask me about the whole snake debacle.”
I answered, “Uh, yeah that’s my question but I am still annoyed that you left my door open and I almost died from a heart attack.” We both laughed and then I turned away from him continuing with my curiosity. “Anyway…it’s just, our houses have to be in the same price range, and the rent here is astronomical. I make good money, and still the only reason I can afford it is because I rent from a family friend who gives me a dirt-cheap price.”
Out of the corner of my e
ye, I saw him nodding his head up and down. Then he reached up and ran his hand over his face.
“My grandpa owned the house, rented it out, passed away, and then left it to me.”
I felt my eyebrows scrunch inward.
“Oh.” I thought for a moment. “So, you knew the last renters?”
“Yep, I was technically their landlord.”
“I loved them.”
He turned toward me, smiling. “They loved you, too.”
“They talked about me?”
Luke chuckled, “Yes. All the time. But, I have to admit. You weren’t what I was expecting when I moved in.”
Tension landed on top of my shoulders. “What were you expecting?”
“Well, honestly…I thought you’d be, like, sixty by the way they talked about you.”
I laughed out loud. “They were probably talking about Ms. Deacon.”
I tilted my chin toward the house behind ours. It was enormous, and I considered it the “mother” of our houses. It was white and at least three stories, with a wrap-around porch. I felt envious every time I glanced at it.
“She’s in her late sixties and she owns ten cats. Never does a single thing except pamper them and tend to her garden out back. She’s a homebody, that’s for sure. No family. Nothing. Just her cats.”
He laughed, “Yeah. They described you similar to that. Said you were quiet, never did anything but work, and that you liked to read. I thought they were talking about an old lady, Cammie.”
“They still could have been talking about Ms. Deacon. She likes to read, too.”
He bit his lip. “They said your name was Cammie.”
I took another sip of my tea simply out of embarrassment. I’d been such a sulk since Alex had died. Even my sweet, older neighbors had noticed.
“Oh…” I trailed off. “So, are you from around here, then?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Nice change of subject.” He chuckled but went along with it. “I’m from South Carolina. I have one little brother, a deadbeat dad, and a hardworking mom who makes the world’s best sweet tea.”
I smiled genuinely at the thought of his mom making sweet tea. That’s so cliché, but so cute at the same time. Before I could dig any further into his life, he sat up quickly and looked me right in the eye.