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Amusement widens her smile and creases her eyes as she shrugs. “Murder’s definitely more of a fall or winter activity.” Both of us turn when a car pulls into our shared driveway and parks at her place. “I have to go. It was nice meeting you again, Arlow.” She walks toward the driveway, glancing back with a grin when I call after her.
“See you later, Peach.”
I call Lee back and he answers his phone right away. “What time?”
“Food will be done in two hours,” he replies, not bothering to give me shit about hanging up.
“I’ll be there.”
“Arlow!” Lacey calls, rushing up to give me a hug as soon as I step into Lee’s backyard. “Lee didn’t say you were coming!” With the pan of cobbler in one hand and the six pack of beer in the other, I’m trapped until she lets go. “What did you bring?” Before I can answer, she peels back the cover on the pan. “Ooh, cobbler. Did you make it?”
“Let him get to the deck for hell’s sake,” Lee calls out to her, earning him a quick middle finger in return.
“No, I didn’t make it.”
Unbothered by her brother’s admonishment, Lacey takes the pan and falls in step beside me as we cross the yard. At twenty-two, she’s fifteen years younger than Lee, with all the optimism of that age and enough energy for four people. No matter how annoyed he may get, it’s hard to be mad at someone who is so incessantly happy.
The reason Lee invited me at the last minute becomes clear when a short redhead steps through his back door as I climb the stairs to the deck. To his frustration, Lacey is always trying to play matchmaker to her brother. With me here, she can’t keep leaving them alone with the hope they’ll suddenly realize they’re perfect for each other.
“This is my friend, Madison,” Lacey says.
“Arlow.” I nod at Madison as she steps back and stares at me for a moment.
“Good god, you’re tall.”
It’s amazing how often people feel the need to tell me that, like my six foot seven inch height might have escaped my notice. She spends another few seconds studying my face. I’ve never minded if people ask about the vitiligo. If it were someone else, I’d be curious too, but they rarely do at the risk of sounding rude.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her, then glance at Lee and hold up the beer. “Kitchen or bar fridge?”
“There should be room in the bar.”
Lee has a great outdoor setup. His large wooden deck overlooks the lake, with a bar running along one end and patio furniture on the other. A firepit sits in his backyard, surrounded by chairs. On the other side of it, the ground slopes down to the water and a small dock where his boat is tethered.
“I’ll take this inside,” Lacey volunteers, carrying the pan of cobbler into the kitchen with her friend behind her.
I tuck the beer into the fridge under the bar, grab two and hand one to Lee. “Sneak attack?”
“I should really see it coming by now,” he scoffs.
“She’s pretty,” I offer, leaning back against the railing.
“So was the last one. Do you think if I start fucking them then not calling, she’ll give up?”
“You’re not that much of an asshole.”
“I can learn.” The sound of the sliding door silences our conversation as they return.
Despite Lee’s annoyance, the evening isn’t a bad one. After a few beers, we sit around his kitchen table to eat. Lee tells me about some of the repairs that need to be done and accepts my offer to help him with a few projects that require an extra set of hands. His job as a caretaker for the surrounding cabins and lake houses isn’t usually a very demanding one, but his busy season is coming up. Lacey talks excitedly about her promotionto manager at the formal clothing store where she works, along with Madison.
All evening, Madison keeps sneaking looks at me. Every time I glance in her direction, her gaze veers away. I’m not sure if she’s staring because she finds me odd looking or if she’s trying to flirt but it doesn’t matter. At this point, I prefer the former. What people think stopped affecting me a long time ago. If you have body differences, it just comes with the territory. I’d rather be left alone than explain that I don’t date. Though our reasons are different, it’s one thing Lee and I have in common.
“This is delicious!” Lacey exclaims, when we get to dessert. “Who did you say made it?”
It is good. So good I almost regret bringing it and not hoarding it for myself. “My neighbor.”
Lee shovels in another mouthful. “The woman who rented the cabin?”
My only response is a silent nod, but Lacey is not one to give up before she knows every detail. “You have a neighbor baking for you?” she teases. “What does she look like?”
