Free Neighborly Complications (Stories of Serendipity #1) by Anne Conley

with me.”
    She retreated a step, her eyes taking on a look of pity that told him Summer had already spoken about it. “I already know about Katherine.”
    “Summer told you.” It wasn’t a question, and he was suddenly angry at Summer, and at Claire, but he couldn’t figure out why he was so angry. Just an impotent rage bubbling inside his gut.
    “She didn’t tell me everything, just that you’re a widower.”
    “A widower.” He hated that term. Widower held connotations of a devoted husband who did everything he could to protect his wife and lost her anyways. Widower brought to mind sad men who shut themselves away from society. It spoke of men deserving of someone else’s love. “Right.”
    “I’m sorry, Max.”
    He snapped back to Claire. “Sorry for what, exactly?”
    She seemed uncomfortable, now. She couldn’t look him in the eyes, and for once, he was glad.
    “I’m sorry for your loss.” He scoffed at the empty words that he’d heard countless times before. “And I’m sorry that I can’t be who you want me to be.”
    “How do you know who I want you to be?”
    “I’m not relationship material, Max. I don’t think we’d be good together.” She crossed her arms in front of herself, in a gesture of self-preservation that Max was all too familiar with. “I came here to start over, to redefine myself as a woman. An independent woman.” She paused, and her words sank in.
    “So you’re not going to go out with me?” His anger melted like an ice cube into a pool of regret. “Right.” He turned to go. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” He walked the few steps down the porch, and started crossing the yard to the Azalea bushes that separated the properties.
    “I’m sorry, Max.” She really did look apologetic, but Max couldn’t stop the hurt he felt any way.
    “Yeah, you said that already.” He wished the bushes would swallow him into oblivion instead of just next door.

Chapter Ten
    S erendipity City Cemetery was located in the middle of town, but it was surrounded by acres of trees so that it seemed as though it was secluded. Adjoining the train tracks on one side, Claire realized it was the most serene place she’d seen since she’d been here.
    She’d only been to the cemetery once, for Uncle Eddie’s funeral. In fact, that was the first time she’d ever even been to Serendipity. It wasn’t hard to find his grave, as the dirt and sod covering the top of it was still relatively fresh, although the flowers that still adorned it from the funeral were brown and wilted.
    Claire walked over to the grave site, making a mental note to call someone about the flowers, or deal with them herself. There certainly wasn’t anybody else in the family close enough to do anything about it.
    Her eyes wandered over the landscape. Some of the markers were almost ancient, dating back to the founding of the town, she imagined. Looking nearer to herself, Claire saw the stone next to Uncle Eddies. She hadn’t noticed it at the funeral, as it was where the tarp holding extra dirt to fill in the grave had been. She remembered thinking the blanket of astroturf on top of the mound of dirt hadn’t disguised anything. Everyone present knew exactly what that astroturf covered hill had been.
    Claire’s fingers traced the lettering on the stone.
    Edith Dunlap, b. 6-6-1945, d. 12-27-1957
    Rest in Peace, precious angel, watch over us all…
    Claire sucked in a hard breath and fought back tears for this little girl and her family. She died two days after Christmas. That must have been hard for everybody.
    Turning to Uncle Eddie’s grave, Claire heard a distant train whistle blowing through the breeze that rustled tree leaves.
    “Uncle Eddie?” She felt stupid talking out loud, but at the same time, she didn’t think it would do any good to talk inside her head either. She knew he wouldn’t be able to hear her, but she didn’t know what had pulled her here in the first place, except she wanted to