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

apologize to Eddie, and this was the best way she knew how.
    “I wanted to thank you for the house. I really appreciate it, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to stay here.” She expelled a breath, and sat on the ground at the foot of his grave, cross-legged.
    “For one thing, I can’t find the gold anywhere. Whoever told you there was gold in that house lied. I’ve looked everywhere that I can think to look.” A soft breeze fluffed her hair, and the train whistled again, this time closer. It was coming down the tracks next to the cemetery.
    “And Edie’s still there. I’m not sure what she wants, and she doesn’t bother me that much, but she’s scared the boogers out of me a couple of times.” She paused. “Actually, she keeps me company a little. She’s not the problem.”
    She ran her hands through her hair to straighten it, because the wind had messed it up a little. It was getting stronger. Claire hoped a storm wasn’t brewing. She really wasn’t in the mood to see if the roof leaked.
    “The house is overwhelming, with the amount that needs to be done to it.” She looked at the tombstone with reproach. “You really let it go.”
    “It’s Max, the guy next door.” Claire inhaled a cleansing breath. “He’s everywhere, and I don’t know what to do about him. I’m afraid I hurt his feelings this morning, but I came here to get away from everybody and start over, you know?” She played with a blade of grass, running it between her fingers, bending it at the seam, wrapping it around her pinky.
    “And he’s got a dead wife. Even if I did want to start something with him, I would constantly be competing with the memory of a woman who’s probably perfect relationship fodder.”
    She was feeling better about talking to him now. Gone were the feelings of stupidity, to be replaced with a growing peace. There was something to be said for visiting gravesites, she decided.
    As she stood there, she could almost hear Uncle Eddie’s voice inside her head. He had led an impulsive life, one where he did what he wanted, damn the consequences. If she ever came to him with a question, a problem, or a difficult choice, he’d always asked the question, ‘Would it make you feel good?’
    She heard his question now, even though she knew she was projecting the question to herself. ‘Does he make you feel good?’
    “Yeah, unbelievable. But then again, so did Tom…” Truth was, Tom didn’t make her feel anything close to what Max made her feel. Compared to Max, her emotions and feelings around Tom were like a bad dream. Once you woke from it, all the details were gone and only impressions remain.
    “Did I ever tell you what Tom said? He said I wasn’t relationship material.” She looked at her blade of grass again, and abandoned it for a fresh one. “I’m sure he was diverting attention from the fact that he was cheating pond scum, but I’ve been thinking that there might be something behind it, or else I wouldn’t have been hurt so many times. What is it about me that makes guys think they can use me, or hurt me somehow? I can’t do it again, Uncle Eddie. I can’t let Max hurt me.” Tears pricked her eyes, and she swiped at them. “I don’t want to keep hurting him, either.”
    Desperate for a change of scenery, but not willing to leave the serenity of the cemetery just yet, Claire stood and continued talking while she cleared out the dead flowers and carried them to a nearby trashcan. Each trip back to Eddie’s grave, she would stop and tell him something else that had happened with the house. She talked about Summer, whose Nana Eddie had played with as a child. She talked about Edie, and her penchant for tucking Claire in at night. She talked about the Gin, and beating the snot out of Summer at pool. But she didn’t talk about Max anymore.
    She had already decided what to do about him.

Chapter Eleven
    M ax was at the cemetery as well, but the other end, where the newer residents of