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Back The Family Next Door Save as PDF
Chapters (117)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
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  10. 5
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  115. 110
  116. Teaser chapter
  117. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

They stood side by side, surveying the street, watching a cat on a wall stretch in the heat. He lifted his glass. “Never had this as a kid. But my niece loves it.”

A chuckle laced with sympathy. “Too expensive, I expect. We used to buy those little cartons for my son. He liked them in his lunch box.”

“And now you do the same for the grandkids, I expect?” He nudged her gently to show that he was teasing.

Her face crumpled, reminding him of a used tissue. “We don’t have grandchildren.”

The postman flushed. He patted her arm, a gesture clunky with embarrassment. “Forgive me. Me and my big mouth.”

“Please, don’t worry.” She took another sip of her drink and watched a butterfly land on the buddleia. “Perhaps I should have worded it more carefully. We don’t know if we have grandchildren. We haven’t seen our son for a very long time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The postman was used to hearing confidences. And opening up to a stranger was easier for some. “That must be difficult.” He pulled at a loose thread on the strap of his postbag, careful to avoid eye contact in case she clammed up. “If you don’t mind—I mean, feel free to tell me to shut up—but what happened?”

A sigh so filled with regret it almost hurt to listen.

“He ran away. Thirty-three years ago this summer. A family argument and that was it. Last time we saw him.”

The postman whistled. “Sounds tough. Have you tried to find him?”

She didn’t answer straightaway and he suspected she wasn’t going to. But then she took his empty glass, sadness threading its way through her words. “We’re still here. We haven’t gone anywhere.”

A shadow crossed the sun, and the postman remembered his own secret. “Do you want to see him?”

She turned to him, and he was floored by the bleakness in her eyes.

“Wanting something won’t make it happen,” she said.

Then she went inside and shut the door.

20

20

Now

Love has many guises.

The electrical arc of physical attraction. The comfortable slippers of a long marriage. Flip a coin, though, and it becomes the burn of unrequited desire, the tunnel-vision darkness of an obsessive. Love is the balancing act of friendship and the willing handcuffs of parenthood. The secrets we keep to protect those we should trust.

But nothing prepared me for you.

I had loved before, of course. Not often. But enough. This was different, though. Deeper. Unexpected. You taught me things me I hadn’t realized I needed to learn. The way your eyes looked into my hidden self. The feel of your hand against mine. Your breath on my cheek.

But as I grew older, I discovered what Birdie had known all along.

Love does not always stay the same. It congeals into something unpleasant and ugly.