It was on the tip of his tongue to comment on kitchen safety, but the crestfallen expression on her face halted his words. Sighing, he planted his hands on his hips and held her gaze for a moment, noting the bruising around her eye was almost gone. “Does he live here?”
Her mouth opened then snapped shut, her brow lowering. “Who?”
“The guy who did that to you?” he grumbled, inclining his head toward her face. It dawned on him that there was no way he could live across the hall from a couple where a guy took out his anger on a woman.
He watched as her blue eyes chilled and felt the temperature drop in the apartment as she lifted her chin to glare. She might be a foot shorter but she sure as hell was looking down at him.
“No one lives here but me,” she bit out, turning to march to the open door. Standing with her hand on the door and the other hand making a sweeping motion, she continued to glare.
He took the cue and walked out of her apartment, but just as he was about to thank her for the thought of making muffins, the door slammed behind him.
After saying goodbye to his crew, he stood inside his apartment and looked around. His furniture wasn’t a perfect fit for the place, but it would work for now. He had a sofa, chair, console with a TV, coffee table, small dining table with four chairs, a bed, and dresser. His kitchenware didn’t nearly fill the cabinets, so he had lots of extra space.
His old apartment offered little direct sunlight. Standing in the living room with the sun pouring in through the tall windows, he sighed in relief. Closing his eyes for a moment, he let the feel of home settle over him. A knock on the door jolted him from his enjoyment, and he winced at the thought that the beautiful yet angry neighbor might be on the other side, ready to hurl a charcoal muffin at his head.
Peeking out the security hole, he spied the landlady. Light blue shirt with pants and a zip-up jacket that looked like velvet paired with a wide smile on her face. Opening the door, he ushered her in. “Welcome, Mrs. Rossi. As you can see, I’m moved in.”
“Call me Margaretha,” she said, her hands fluttering in front of her as she sat down on his sofa. A satisfied grin graced her face as she looked around the space. “It looks good here. A house like this should always have people living in it that appreciate its uniqueness.”
“Well, my crew will be back on Monday, ready to start some of the restorations.”
“Good, good.” She leaned forward, her eyes twinkling again. “I hear there was some excitement earlier.”
He dropped his chin, shaking his head before looking back at her. “Um… yes, ma’am—Margaretha. It seems the neighbor across the hall was baking and set the temperature much higher than she meant.”
Her face crinkled as her delight shone through. “Such a surprise! Our Caitlyn is an excellent cook and always provides treats for us. I’m sure she must have been in a hurry or her mind somewhere else. Poor thing! She always has so much going on.”
He sucked in his lips, rubbing them together for a moment, wondering what the landlady would tell him. While he decided, she chuckled, drawing his gaze back to her.
“You look like a man who has something to ask. Just go ahead, Griffin. No sense in twiddling your thumbs when you want to know something.”
Now it was his turn to chuckle. Nodding, he said, “Okay. I actually met her a couple of weeks ago. Right after she… um… was…” He waved his hand around his eye, uncertain what to say to the elderly lady now that he’d opened his mouth.
“After she got whacked in the face?”
He blinked in surprise, his chin jerking back slightly. “Uh… yeah. I wondered if the person who hit her was still around.”
“Oh, my, yes! She didn’t press charges, so while they had to be suspended for a few days, I’m sure they’re back. But she assures me that they feel really terrible about what happened.”
His chest depressed as the air rushed out of his lungs. “They? There was more than one?”
The purple strand near her face bobbed with the force of her nod. “Technically, she was only hit by one of them, but there were two fighting.”
“Two men fighting?”
“Well, I’m sure they’d like to think they’re men, but they’re nothing but boys.”
“Ma’am—Margaretha, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Well, it’s just an example of our Caitlyn, isn't it? Selfless. Jumping in to help without worrying about herself. She tells me that it’s not an everyday occurrence, but it does happen.”
“She was helping?” he prodded, now wondering what had happened and if he would ever get the story out of Margaretha about our Caitlyn.
“I suppose teachers these days have to deal with so much more than teaching. Certainly not like in my day, I can tell you that! If we crossed our eyes, our hands were slapped by the nuns!”
Scrubbing his hand over his face, a clearer picture was now forming. “She got hit in the face by two guys fighting at school?”
Margaretha laughed delicately and patted his arm again. “You do seem to be having trouble following, Griffin. But yes, our Caitlyn jumped in between two teenage boys fighting, and one of them accidentally punched her in the face. I know she said that he didn’t mean to hit her, but still…” She tsked, shaking her head, then sighed heavily as she stood. “I wouldn’t worry about it, though. If she burned the first batch, I’m sure she’s baking another treat to bring to you. She’s such a sweetie.”
His mind was still whirling when she took to her feet and said, “Well, I’m off. It’s bowling night.” She started for the door then turned. “Do you bowl?”
“Um, no, I don’t.”
“Pity. You and Caitlyn could make a foursome with me and a friend. Oh, well, maybe you’ll learn.”
Walking her out, he watched as she descended the stairs back to her apartment, then stood and stared at the closed door of the now-silent apartment across the hall. She was the woman complaining about the early morning noise… the day after I saw her in the ER. She was the one I told should dump the guy using her as a punching bag. She was the one I just insulted when she was baking something to welcome a new neighbor.
Blowing out his breath, he was positive our Caitlyn was not inside baking another treat for him.
7
The next morning, Caitlyn wandered from the bedroom into the kitchen and flipped on the coffeemaker. She’d managed to get through the rest of yesterday without hearing any noise in the hall or outside. As though her feet had a will of their own, she’d constantly walked to the door and peered through the security hole out of curiosity, but her gruff neighbor was either gone or inside his apartment.
Now, it was Sunday morning, and she was still moping around her apartment. Only I could end up with a drop-dead gorgeous neighbor with the personality of a grump. And I was baking him muffins! At that thought, she cringed. She loved to cook, but baking sweets was second to her heart besides teaching English. She loved to create new culinary delights as well as pore through old cookbooks to find tried and true desserts from the past, and neighbors and coworkers received the benefits of her endeavors considering her curves would keep expanding if she ate everything she baked.