Home > Then You Came Along(3)

Then You Came Along(3)
Author: Debbie Macomber

   The man’s eyes revealed astonishment, however fleeting, and his dark brows drew together over his high-bridged nose. “Blackie,” he snapped. “Come.”

   The Labrador squeezed between two overgrown laurel bushes and returned to his master, who didn’t look any too pleased at his dog’s affection for Jeff.

   “My son has a way with animals,” Robin said.

   “Do you live here?” Jeff asked next. He seemed completely unaware of their new neighbor’s unfriendliness.

   “Next door.”

   “Oh, good.” Jeff grinned widely and placed his right hand on his chest. “I’m Jeff Masterson and this is my mom, Robin. We moved in yesterday.”

   “I’m Cole Camden. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

   Although his words were cordial, his tone wasn’t. Robin felt about as welcome as a punk-rock band at a retirees’ picnic.

   “I’m getting a dog myself,” Jeff went on affably. “That’s why we moved out of the apartment building—I couldn’t have a pet there except for my goldfish.”

   Cole nodded without comment.

   Oh, great, Robin thought. After years of scrimping and saving to buy a house, they were going to be stuck with an ill-tempered next-door neighbor. His house was older than the others on the block. Much bigger, too. Robin guessed that his home, a sprawling three-story structure, had been built in the early thirties. She knew that at one time this neighborhood had been filled with large opulent homes like Cole Camden’s. Gradually, over the years, the older places had been torn down and a series of two-story houses and trendy ramblers built in their place. Her neighbor’s house was the last vestige of an era long past.

   “Have you got any kids?” Jeff could hardly keep the eagerness out of his voice. In the apartment complex there’d always been plenty of playmates, and he was eager to make new friends, especially before he started classes in an unfamiliar school on Monday morning.

   Cole’s face hardened and Robin could have sworn the question had angered him. An uncomfortable moment passed before he answered. “No, I don’t have any kids.” His voice held a rough undertone, and for a split second Robin was sure she saw a flash of pain in his eyes.

   “Would it be okay if I played with Blackie sometimes? Just until I get my own dog?”

   “No.” Cole’s response was sharp, but, when Jeff flinched at his vehemence, Cole appeared to regret his harsh tone. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it’d probably be best if you stayed in your own yard.”

   “That’s all right,” Jeff said. “You can send Blackie over here to visit anytime you want. I like dogs.”

   “I can see that.” A hint of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Then his cool gaze moved from Jeff to Robin, his face again expressionless, but she sensed that he’d made up his mind about them, categorized them and come to his own conclusions.

   If Cole Camden thought he could intimidate her, Robin had news for him. He’d broadcast his message loud and clear. He didn’t want to be bothered by her or her son, and in exchange he’d stay out of her way. That was fine with her. Terrific, in fact. She didn’t have time for humoring grouches.

   Without another word, Cole turned and strode toward his house with Blackie at his heels.

   “Goodbye, Mr. Camden,” Jeff called, raising his hand.

   Robin wasn’t surprised when their neighbor didn’t give them the courtesy of a reply.

   In an effort to distract Jeff from Cole Camden’s unfriendliness, she said brightly, “Hey, I’m starving. How about you?”

   Jeff didn’t answer right away. “Do you think he’ll let me play with Blackie?”

   Robin sighed, considering the dilemma that faced her. She didn’t want Cole to hurt Jeff’s feelings, but it wasn’t likely their neighbor would appreciate her son’s affinity with his Labrador. By the same token, a neighbor’s dog, even one that belonged to a grouch, would ease her guilt over not being able to provide Jeff with the dog she’d promised him.

   “What do you think, Mom?” Jeff prompted. “He’ll probably let me play with Blackie sometimes, don’t you think?”

   “I don’t know, honey,” she whispered. “I just don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

   Later the same day, after buying groceries to stock their bare kitchen shelves and picking up other necessities, Robin counted the change at the bottom of her purse. She needed to be sure she had money for the subway on Monday morning. Luckily she had enough spare change for BART—Bay Area Rapid Transit—to last the week, but it was packed lunches for her and Jeff until her next payday, which was in two weeks.

   Her finances would’ve been in better shape if she’d waited another year to move out of the apartment. But interest rates were at a two-year low and she’d decided soon after the first of the year that if they were ever going to move out of the apartment this was the time.

   “Mom!” Jeff crashed through the back door, breathless. “We’re in trouble.”

   “Oh?” Robin glanced up from the salad she was mixing. A completely disgusted look on his face, her son flung himself into a chair and propped his elbows on the table. Then he let out a forceful sigh.

   “What’s wrong, Jeff?”

   “I’m afraid we made a bad mistake.”

   “How’s that?”

   “There’s nothing but girls in this neighborhood.” He made it sound as though they’d unexpectedly landed in enemy territory. “I rode my bike up and down the street and all I saw were girls.” He wrinkled his nose.

   “Don’t worry, you’ll be meeting lots of boys in school on Monday.”

   “You aren’t taking this seriously!” Jeff cried. “I don’t think you understand what this means. There are seven houses on this block. Six of them have kids and only one has a boy, and that’s me. I’m surrounded by women!”

   “How’d you find all this out?”

   “I asked, of course.” He sighed again. “What are you going to do about it, Mom?”

   “Me?” Robin asked. “Are you suggesting we move back to the apartment?”

   Jeff considered this for only a moment. “I’d think we should if it wasn’t for two things. We can’t have a dog there. And I found a fort.”

   “A fort?”

   “Yes,” he said solemnly. “It’s hidden way back in Mr. Camden’s yard and covered by a bunch of brush. It’s real neat there. I don’t think he knows about it, because the word on the street is he doesn’t like kids. Someone must’ve built it and I’m going to find out who. If there’s a club going, I want in. I’ve got the right—I live closer to Mr. Camden than anyone else does.”

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