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wouldn’t be
so inviting with me. I noticed she wasn’t inviting other neighbors
over for dinner. And if I didn’t want it to happen, I wouldn’t be
accepting her invitations. I wasn’t having dinner with other
neighbors, either. The signs were clearly there.
    The day seemed to drag by after that.
    As I walked to Carla’s that evening, I
thought about what she’d said. There really had been a lot of
things happen since Jenson had moved in. It was one hell of a
coincidence. And Jenson was odd. I wasn’t the only one who thought
he was odd. I knew Andy and Jill thought so. Hazel would never say
a bad word about anyone. Louis was never home. Bernie was too
wrapped up in finding himself a woman. I supposed it was just Andy,
Jill, Carla, and me that noticed.
    Such a quiet neighborhood for so much
bloodshed. Maybe Carla should move. Maybe we all should.
     
     
     
7 Owen
    I shooed the neighborhood dog to go away
while waiting for Carla to open the door. Instead of leaving, he
walked a circle and lay down in the corner of the porch next to
Bernie’s house, under the porch swing. Before I could insist
further that he leave, Carla opened the door.
    “Whose is he?” she asked.
    “He kind of belongs to us all. He’s a stray
that roams around here. He’s a good dog, though. No one minds.” The
dog licked his lips, as if to confirm.
    “What’s his name?”
    “Oscar.”
    Saying nothing, she turned and disappeared
into the house. I wasn’t sure if I should follow, so I stayed where
I was, debating. Seconds later, she came back, carrying a hamburger
patty.
    “Here you go, Oscar,” she said, bending down
and giving him the patty. Oscar’s tail thumped against the porch as
he happily ate the warm meat. Turning to me, she said, “Shall we go
in and eat?”
    “You know, you just made a friend for life
there. Friendly face, warm food, cozy porch. He may never leave,” I
said to Carla as she walked past me and into the house. I looked at
Oscar, who returned my gaze. I swear I detected a smirk on his
face. Maybe I was just assuming he was smirking. That’s what Andy
would’ve done.
    Carla laughed.
    We ate the burgers over great conversation.
The kids were telling me stories about friends they had in Dallas.
Carla watched, smiling and occasionally giggling.
    I could see the unfathomable amount of love
and devotion in her eyes as she looked at her kids. I watched her
watching them and couldn’t help but wonder if she had so much love
for everyone she allowed into her life. Had she loved their father
as much as she loved them? Would she ever love me with as much
enthusiasm and passion as she loved them? I certainly hoped I’d
have a chance to find out.
    With the kids asleep, Carla and I sat on the
porch swing. Oscar lay sleeping beneath us. We talked about nothing
in particular. Things we liked, things we didn’t like. Books we’d
read and movies we’d watched. As it turned out, we had quite a lot
of things in common.
    Time went a little too quickly when I was
with her. Before I knew it, Andy was driving past us on his way to
work.
    I glanced at my watch. “Wow. It’s late. I
should go.” I didn’t want to leave. Not now, not anytime soon. I
wanted to stay by her side and continue getting to know her.
    She looked disappointed that I had to leave.
“I’ll walk you home,” she offered. It seemed she was just as eager
as I was to make the evening last a little longer. This revelation
excited me. It appeared she was feeling the same way about me that
I was feeling about her.
    “But if you walk me home, I’ll have to walk
you back home.”
    Laughing, she said, “I’m a big girl. I can
make my way back by myself.”
    “If you insist.” We walked very slowly down
the street toward my house, both of us trying to wring every
possible drop out of the evening.
    Standing at the end of my driveway, I noticed
she was hesitant. This was the first awkward pause between us.
Neither of us spoke. I patiently waited for her to