Page 14 of Dreams and Reptiles

“Derek’s gonna get some,” I started singing to myself. I danced around the island in the kitchen and then pulled my own phone out. My Bluetooth speaker was all the way up in my bedroom, so I just turned on music through my phone and sang along with Beyonce’s “Sweet Dreams” while I started prepping the fried rice. It was a dish that would keep nicely if I had a visitor, or I could always take some over to him tomorrow.

No way was I traipsing through our yards in the dark with unknown reptiles wandering around.

I could have texted myself from his phone when I’d put in my number, but… no. I was not going to chase after him. I had to believe that things would happen if they were meant to, and that didn’t mean manufacturing an opportunity to see him.

Twenty minutes later, I was plating my food when my phone buzzed.

Unknown: I need to ask for forgiveness.

I grinned at first, but then an icy shiver ran down my spine. Instinctively I looked out the window and set the phone down. It buzzed again.

Unknown: It’s Kendall. The guy who rescued you from John Wayne? I’ve been a bad neighbor.

The phew I phewed took all the air from me. I bent at the waist, holding on to the counter. After a few beats, I’d collected myself enough to respond.

Saucy Neighbor: When you say bad, do you mean inconsiderate? Callous? Surly? I need clarification.

I couldn’t help it. He brought out the snark in me, even over text.

Unknown: Saucy Neighbor with the big words. I’d hoped to text sooner. Shift ran late. John Wayne helped his buddies Cary Grant and Gregory Peck escape. Have to reinforce their yard. Rain check on dinner?

I pouted as I looked down at the two bowls I’d set out.

Saucy Neighbor: Shame. Your bowl of fried rice is going to get cold.

I watched the three dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, for at least three minutes. Someone was warring with himself. I could throw him a bone.

Saucy Neighbor: Happy to make a fence-line delivery.

I couldn’t resist the opportunity to see him. To share food with him. I was like my mom in that sense. I lived to feed people. It was how I showed my people that I loved and appreciated them. I cooked often for Max and Mei when I lived there, once I was a functioning human again. Would Kendall appreciate⁠—

Unknown: I would be eternally grateful.

I hopped up and down and did a little victory dance, but then I had a thought.

Saucy Neighbor: Do you have any food allergies?

Again, the dots seemed to go on forever.

Unknown: Allergies, no. Reservations? Some.

Reservations, huh? Was he a picky eater?

The poor man. Well, we’d have to come to an agreement about that.

I texted him that I would be right out and prepared him two servings in covered containers so he could eat one now and have one later. Then I grabbed mine, some utensils, and, at the door, I slipped on a pair of house shoes I’d determined would be my backyard shoes, before walking out into the night. The lights from the house and the pool yard illuminated my way, but I began thinking that I should probably put in a lighted path. You know, if we were going to have these fence-line meetings regularly.

That possibility made me giddy once more.

CHAPTER

FOUR

Kendall

I’d debated for most of the past two days if I should text Francis, but once I’d pointed my truck toward home after work, I practically did a happy dance in my seat at the thought of being closer to him.

Whether or not this was a good idea didn’t seem to matter. I texted him back as I exhaled.