As I drive, I run through the different articles I read, contemplating Modern Family’s style and the experience they’re creating with stories on families, parenting, and more.
It’s exactly the creative outlet I need.
When I pull up to the house with Jacob, I see our new neighbor again. She’s walking through her front yard in a pencil skirt and high heels, talking on her phone, seemingly uncaring that her heels are digging into the ground like she’s aerating the grass.
I peer down at my plain leggings and flannel shirt. It’s been my outfit of choice lately, but it’s Mitch’s shirt. Being away from our home, his shirts are the only things other than pictures that make me feel close to him.
She hangs up with a groan, waving her arms around, mumbling to herself.
“Hey there.” I wave, rounding my SUV.
She whips around, then walks toward me on wobbly feet until she hits concrete. “Hi, I’m Sienna.”
“Clara.” I shake her hand—more accurately, her fingers. I imagine it’s how a queen might offer her hand to inferior peasants. Nonetheless, I offer her a warm smile, the one I learned from growing up in Sunnyville, where mostly everyone’s your friend.
She jumps when Jacob stands next to me. “Oh, there’s a tiny human.”
“I’m Jacob.”
She nods, setting her sunglasses on top of her head, and I get a better look at her. She seems to be a few years younger than me, and her brown eyes are wide with what seems to be… horror. “Hello, I’m Sienna.” She hesitates, then shakes his fingers like she’s shaking hands with a tiger paw, terrified that it’s going to eat her.
“Mom, I’m going to play.”
“Go ahead, sweetie.” I bite my lip as he rushes around the house to the yard. I’m not sure who’s more scared of whom.
“Didn’t mean to frighten him. He’s, um, cute.” She points her manicured finger in his direction. “Is there a Mister Tiny Human around?” She checks behind me like another person will pop up.
I tug at my sleeves, still unsure of how to explain. In the past, I’ve blurted it out and made strangers completely uncomfortable. When I’ve hidden it, they eventually find out, anyway.
Since Sienna is my neighbor, it seems futile to lie. “There was, but…” I open and close my mouth, contemplating my explanation.
“What happened? Did he start getting too old? Like, my friend Maya in LA had to leave her aging husband because he started trying to climb on top of her in his sleep. Then he forgot about her altogether. He still doesn’t realize she’s been gone for six months with all of his money. Which was the plan, anyway.”
“Oh, that’s”—I search for the right words but come up empty—“terrible, actually.”
“He wasn’t exactly in it for love, either, honey, if you know what I mean.” She shrugs. “So, what happened with you? Where’s the small creature’s father?”
“He’s dead.” I rub my eyes, but not before I catch her stunned expression. Her mouth hangs open like I tried to sell her a knockoff Chanel. Judging from her studded earrings and high-end shoes, that would be sacrilege.
“That’s so sad.” She pats my arm, scrunching her nose. “I wish I hadn’t asked.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh my God, that was so shitty. That’s not what I meant at all. I’m totally butchering this, aren’t I?”
“I don’t think I understand.”
She casts her gaze downward. “I’m just not sure what the appropriate way to respond is.”
She seems genuinely uncomfortable, yet I’m wondering why she hasn’t walked off already. It’s like she’s trying to show she cares but truthfully doesn’t know how. Which is pretty funny.
After a short pause, I throw my head back and laugh.
“Let’s move on,” I offer, still reeling. “What brings you to Sunnyville?”
“My asshole dad and all his principles.”
Of course, I should’ve expected a crazy answer. This woman is throwing me for a loop.
“He took all my credit cards and exiled me to the middle of nowhere. I had to ask Maya for money, so I don’t go crazy. If I don’t shop at least five times a week, I become a real bitch. You know, like if I were to steal your”—she points at my flannel shirt, twisting her lips with obvious distaste—“that thing.”
“I would be pretty pissed.” I go along with it.
“Exactly. So, you know how I feel.”
“Totally.” I cross my arms.
“Anyway, Daddy thought I’d learn a thing or two by living in his hometown for a few months. That’s why I figured I’d get a jumpstart on things and learn from you and how to appropriately respond to someone telling you their husband died.” She snaps her fingers. “Maybe you can also show me where you got”—she points to my outfit again as though she forgot she already insulted it—“this. Maybe if I dress the part, he’ll give me back my credit cards.”
I give her a tight-lipped smile. Remember what your mother taught you. Manners. You have manners. I open my mouth, then close it and study her.
If I’m honest, she might seem a little awful, but she’s also oblivious.
I give her a more genuine smile. “I’d be happy to go shopping with you.”
“Perfect.” She backs away, then holds her finger up. “But don’t go falling in love with me because I’m out of here in two months.”
She waves her hand around her face, swatting at what I assume are flies. Then, she rushes inside, her clicking heels echoing the whole time.
I shake my head as I walk to our place.
Once inside, I head straight to the backyard to check on Jacob. He’s playing with his action figures on the porch, obviously enjoying the sunshine. I’m glad he’s taking advantage since it’s usually chilly this time of year when the sun starts setting. Much different than the heat Atlanta brings even in September.
Like you’re swimming in lava.
Not here, especially not with fall right around the corner.
I pull out my phone. It’s late in the day, so maybe he had a short afternoon and can talk. I dial Dax, but it goes to voice mail. In the kitchen, I pour myself a lemonade, then make my way to the backyard. Taking a seat, I watch Jacob play.
And breathe.
I don’t often have slow moments to enjoy the sunshine, so I take advantage too.
After almost an hour of Jacob showing me karate kicks like he’s Captain America, my phone rings, and Dax’s face lights up my screen.
I glance at Jacob, who’s now playing quietly with his toys, and head inside to answer the call.
“Hello, hello. You’re the ninety-sixth caller here at 102.9—the Fever.”
I giggle and almost drop my phone. To avoid disaster, I set it on the counter and put him on speaker as I retrieve a bowl from the cabinet. “And what do I win?”
“A nice, cold beer to cool off that fever.”
“I could use one of those. How did you know?” I raise my voice to make sure he hears me while I retrieve butter, milk, and eggs from the refrigerator.
“Lucky guess.” Dax chuckles, and I hear him tapping away at his keyboard.