My neighbor mocked my old Honda, then egged it for blocking his brand-new fountain. He thought I’d quietly move the car. Instead, I sent him something I’d kept for twenty years.
At fifty-seven, I had learned there were two kinds of people worth avoiding before eight in the morning: people selling something and my neighbor Richard.
That Monday, I managed to meet both.
My lisp had followed me since childhood.
I was standing on my porch in slippers with a mug of coffee when a young man waved a roofing flyer at me.
“Ma’am, we’re doing free estimates.”
“My roof’s fine, sank you.”
There it was.
My lisp had followed me since childhood.
Most days, it was barely noticeable. But when I was tired or nervous, certain sounds betrayed me.
The young man didn’t react. “Sure thing. Have a great morning.”
I relaxed.
Then I heard Richard.
“Sree?”
“Linda! Come see this.”
Should’ve bought the roof.
Across the street, three workers were lowering an enormous stone fountain onto Richard’s lawn. At sixty-one, he still had thick silver hair, a straight back, and the remarkable ability to make khaki shorts look expensive.
“You’re gonna love this.”
“Still an ass?”
“I’m pretty happy from over here.”
He crossed the street anyway.
Richard had been improving his house for years.
Imported flowers.
Decorative stone.
Outdoor lighting bright enough to guide a plane home.
Apparently, the fountain was his masterpiece.
“You ever think about replacing that thing?”
“Custom design. Natural stone. Three tiers.”
“Sree?”
His mouth twitched.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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