Years passed and there was never a time that I was jealous. Even as I played with the strings bringing Delilah and Cody closer together. I couldn’t be with her, not when I had so much work to do to make up for the mess I allowed as I learned. I had so much to make amends for. But then he kissed her.

And she kissed him back.

I know she wanted him to for a long while. She wanted his lips on hers. She wanted more than that.

I imagine tonight he’ll lean in for a kiss but I’m uncertain if she’ll allow it. Since I kissed her last. I wonder which kiss she enjoys more.

Honk, honk, the man I saw just a moment ago waves me down from the other side of the street. He’s heading the other direction now, the front end of his car parallel to mine and his window rolled down.

With jet-black hair speckled white and wrinkles lining his eyes, he narrows his gaze at me, a harsh crease in his forehead emphasizing his wrinkles.

A smirk is my response as he motions for me to roll down my window. I do and immediately ask him, “You lost?”

“No, no, I thought you might be?” he says with a half grin but skepticism still lingering in his gaze. I’ve dealt with many men like him, so not an ounce of nervousness trickles through. They’re all the same.

I imagine he’s retired, the grandfather of one of the youth who play in these fenced-in backyards. I wonder if he thinks he knows everyone on this street. Maybe he does.

“Not lost,” I say as I shake my head and switch the tab on my screen to the work order scheduled at 47 Lewisville Drive. “I’m just waiting on the Jenkinses for their appointment.”

The Jenkins family has an appointment, but not with me. Before they arrive, I’ll be gone. I’m not interested in their home in the least. This street, however, is one of my favorites for the view I needed tonight. From this exact spot, I can easily see through the back windows of the Italian restaurant a mile down the road, using the camera in my dashboard. Technology has made what I do substantially easier to keep tabs on certain men.

This man is right to be suspicious, but this street will never be harmed. It’s far too valuable to me.

“I’m hoping they’ll be home soon although I’m early. I got done with my last appointment a little early and …” I don’t finish the statement; instead I hold up a half-eaten sandwich.

“Right, right,” he says and the grin on his face widens, acknowledging my lies with understanding. He seems to be a good man. One who’d fill me in if ever I needed to know anything about this street. I wouldn’t even have to pry for him to confide in me. Men like him are proud to keep an eye out and protect the neighborhood. They’re the ones who take it the hardest when something … unfortunate occurs.