Jeff sat in his Land Rover outside of his childhood home. He couldn’t sleep, and now it was four o’clock in the morning. So he’d given up and started his day, which led to putting together real estate comps for some of his clients. When he’d finished a few, he’d decided to go for a drive and ended up here, in his old neighborhood.
Earlier that night, he’d dropped off a pouty Paige, who was worried that she’d eaten too much at dinner and would be bloated for her photoshoot. When Jeff asked if it was a swimsuit shoot, she’d glared at him and told him it was for a sunglass company and only her head would be showing, but bloating could be seen in a person’s cheeks.
Who knew?
Jeff couldn’t drop her off fast enough. He’d walked her to the door, and when she’d invited him in, he reminded her that she had to get up early. He gave her a quick hug, but no kiss. If she noticed how distant he was being, she didn’t pick up on it. He’d wanted to break things off then and there, but he wasn’t sure if she was a crier. And what if she cried? And then her eyes became puffy and ruined her photoshoot? He didn’t know much about bloating, but he knew a little about puffiness.
So he’d left her without breaking things off, though he was determined that the next time they spoke, he’d tell her. It would have to be soon. Later today, probably. He’d learned his lesson well with Alicia. And he’d prided himself in being more upfront with the women he dated. If he didn’t see it going anywhere beyond a few dates, then why drag it out?
So why was he sitting in his Land Rover, across the street from his old house, in the middle of the night? A quick search on the MLS real estate system told him that the house had been through three owners since his parents had retired and moved. Another search told him that Alicia’s mom, Lila Waters, was still the listed homeowner on the house next door. And there were lights on.
It was nearly 4:30 a.m., and Jeff wondered if Lila Waters was an early riser, or perhaps a night owl. Then he noticed the car in the driveway and the sticker in the back window that said CSU—Sacramento. Some parents were proud and put stickers on their cars of their kids’ colleges, but something told Jeff this wasn’t the case. The car belonged to Alicia. It was a newer model Honda Accord, and although it was an average car, it stuck out in this neighborhood. While some neighborhoods in Pine Valley were extravagant, this neighborhood hadn’t changed in decades. Most of the people who lived here were lower class. Husband and wife both worked, aging in-laws lived with them, and their cars were older models.
Jeff kept apprised of these types of demographics so he could better serve his real estate clients. Finding the right comps and getting the most value out of a house were what made his deals successful. Like any real estate agent, he was a slave to the market, so it was imperative that he find every advantage possible. Whether it was to highlight a nearby park, or the friendliness of the neighbors, or the low crime rate, or the closeness of the ski resort . . . it was all part of the sales pitch.
The air in the Land Rover had grown cold enough to start bothering him, and he’d been here a while, so he reached to turn on the ignition when someone came out the front door of the Waters’ house. Jeff paused to watch, not wanting to start the ignition while the woman was outside. Yet, she didn’t walk like the sixty-something woman Lila Waters would be.
No, this woman’s dark hair was illuminated by the porch light and swung about her shoulders as she hurried down the porch steps. Alicia? Jeff stared as she continued her swift strides toward the Honda and unlocked the trunk, then stuffed a large garbage bag inside. She jumped in the driver’s seat and started the car. The brake lights glowed, and she backed out of the driveway. Where was she going at 4:30 in the morning?
Without thinking about what he was doing, Jeff started his engine and pulled out behind the Honda. Not too close so that she became suspicious. It was quite easy to follow her at a distance, since there were no other cars on the streets. Her taillights were the only thing to keep track of.
Jeff slowed again when she exited the neighborhood and pulled into a gas station that was closed. Was she getting gas? Pine Valley had yet to adopt an all-night gas station. He pulled to a stop at the curb about one hundred yards away and turned off his engine and lights. The interior dome lights came on, and he scrambled to switch them off manually. Finally, in the darkness, he watched Alicia park by a dumpster, then climb out of her car. She popped open the truck and lugged the garbage sack out, then dumped it into the trash.
She stood there for a moment, as if she was rethinking her plan of throwing away a large amount of trash so early in the morning. Then she turned back to her car. Her actions were no longer quick, but slow, as if she was tired. She couldn’t have gotten much sleep between her shift at the restaurant and now. Or maybe she hadn’t gone to sleep at all.
Jeff wasn’t exactly sure why he was spying on Alicia Waters, especially after all these years. Despite the fact that she’d developed into a gorgeous woman and seemed more real compared to Paige, he had no right to follow Alicia this way. He really knew nothing substantial about her. Social media wasn’t an accurate depiction of anyone’s life; he knew that better than anyone.
Alicia shut the trunk of her car, climbed in, and pulled out of the gas station. He slid down in his seat as she turned onto the road and drove right past him. He doubted she’d seen him, especially with his tinted windows. But he’d definitely seen her. And memories surfaced about their childhood, their friendship, and how they’d confided in each other until he was an idiot and destroyed everything between them. Even her walk was familiar, the tilt of her head when she was speaking with the restaurant patrons, the habit she still had of tucking her hair behind her left ear. Some things about her had changed, though. He’d had time to observe her when she was speaking to the older couple at the restaurant. Her voice was deeper, smoother, her cheekbones more defined, and she hadn’t been wearing a ring.
Of course, he knew she wasn’t married. There would have certainly been something on social media if she had. But no ring also told him there was no fiancé either. And something about that made him happy. Jeff didn’t let himself analyze why he was happy about that, and he started the engine and drove to his office on Main Street. He might be two hours earlier than usual, but he’d be surrounded by plenty of work at his office, and it would distract him.
Jeff parked in the back of the row of Main Street buildings. He climbed out of the Land Rover and was immediately greeted by a pitiful meow. A few weeks ago, a stray calico cat had shown up in the parking lot, searching for scraps of food. Jeff’s receptionist, Clara, had felt sorry for it, bought a bag of cat food, and begun leaving a bowl at the back door of the office. So now the cat had expectations, although it still wouldn’t let Jeff touch it.
“All right, all right,” he told the cat. “I’ll get you something.”
He unlocked the back door while the cat walked in little circles, as if it couldn’t stand the wait. Jeff poured some cat food into the metal bowl, and the cat pretty much attacked it, eating and purring at the same time.
“I guess purring is how you say thank you?” Jeff said. “Well, you’re welcome.”
He pulled the door shut and left the cat to its blissful meal. Then he turned on the rest of the lights in the office. It would be a full hour before the corner café opened and he could get a couple of muffins. For now, he settled for making instant coffee. He couldn’t remember when he’d last stayed awake all night. Well, he could remember—it actually was his senior prom.
Jeff groaned and shook his head. Would he ever be able to completely forget about that night? Would he be able to forget the look on Alicia’s face when he’d heard her enter the hallway and he looked up from kissing Shannon? Jeff had been a hormonal teenager, and even though he had no problem with Alicia’s looks, it always felt like she was off-limits because they were best friends. They’d even talked about their crushes and dates.
He remembered when he told Alicia about his first kiss, and how she’d laughed and blushed, then asked a million questions. Alicia had never told him about her first kiss—and now he wondered if she’d kissed anyone in high school.
Shannon had been flirting with him for weeks, and all of his friends had agreed she was hot. So at prom when she came up and talked to him when Alicia was talking to some other friends, he acted his normal, friendly self. Yes, he was interested, but he also wasn’t prepared when Shannon had whispered in his ear, “I have something to show you in the hallway.”
Like an idiot, he’d fallen for the line and met her in the hallway a few minutes later. She kissed him first, yes, but he also kissed her back. And then to save face, he kept dating her for a few more weeks. But what he didn’t realize then was that by saving face around his friends, he’d lost his best friend.
Alicia never spoke to him again.
Jeff powered on the office laptop and sipped at his nuked coffee as he opened Facebook. He shouldn’t . . . but he did. He typed in Alicia’s name and watched her profile load. She’d posted about a week ago—a picture of her and another woman who looked vaguely familiar. They were standing in front of a homeless shelter—which had to be in another city, since there wasn’t one in Pine Valley—and the caption said, “Spending my day off with Gwen.”
Gwen. Jeff gazed at the blonde woman next to Alicia. He clicked on her name and was taken to Gwen’s profile. Ah. She worked at Alpine Lodge, and she was the waitress who had served him last night. The one Paige had been upset about—if only she knew it was the hostess he actually had a history with.
Jeff scrolled through Gwen’s pictures, seeing that she must spend most of her time off working at that particular homeless shelter. Needless to say, he was impressed. If Gwen was a waitress, she was probably just getting by herself, and she seemed like a selfless person. And a good friend to Alicia. For some reason, that made Jeff feel better, and perhaps less guilty for being such a lousy friend ten years ago. It seemed that Alicia had moved on, had good friends, was back in her hometown, and was most likely happy. She’d looked incredible—wasn’t that a good indicator?
Still curious, Jeff returned to her page and scrolled through her posts and pictures. He was interested about one thing. Why would a college graduate want to work as a hostess at a restaurant, even a posh one, and live at home in a run-down neighborhood? He wondered what her Facebook profile wasn’t showing. What heartaches might lurk beneath her smiling face and breezy posts. He found one picture of her with her dad—it looked like they were at some sort of Christmas party from a few years back. There were no pictures of her mom, and a search for Lila Waters brought up no hits.
Jeff sat back in his chair and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He felt drained. But he knew even if he took the morning off and went home to sleep, he’d never be able to sleep. So he did something he didn’t think he’d do in a million years. He sent a Facebook friend request to Alicia Waters.