Free The Good Neighbor by Kimberly A. Bettes

him.”
    “Why not?” Andy asked, as if he were a
child.
    “I’m exhausted, guy. I’ve been up all night,
which by the way, I don’t usually do. I don’t work nights,
remember? And I want to get some rest so I can go to—“
    “Carla’s? Is that what you were going to say?
You’d rather spend time with her than your best friend. I can’t
believe you.”
    “You know that isn’t true. Besides, it was
you and your wife who insisted that I begin seeing someone, and as
I recall, that someone was Carla. You both said so.”
    “Whatever. The point is you want to rush back
home so you can hang out with her when we’re on to something here,
man. We could solve this riddle in a matter of minutes and put
everyone’s mind at ease.”
    “Or it could be hours, Andy.”
    “He’s never been gone that long, has he?”
    I thought about it. “I don’t know. I’ve never
really paid that much attention. I’ve noticed him come and go, but
never paid attention to how much time passed in between.” Another
sad reminder of how caught up in my misery I’d been.
    Andy was silent for a while. I tried to
figure out whether or not he was really mad or just frustrated that
we were so close and had still found nothing. I didn’t think he was
mad. We’d never had a fight before. We’d never even had an
argument. That’s not saying we’d never disagreed with each other,
but we’d always done it civilly. Looking at him now, seeing the way
his eyebrows were rumpled together and the intensity in his stare,
I knew he wasn’t mad at me. He couldn’t be mad. It’d been his idea
to hook me up with Carla. He was only wishing he could understand
this Jenson thing.
    As he drove me home, we talked about Jenson
mostly, trying to better guess his age. We’d both known people who
were a lot older than they appeared. It was possible Jenson was
older than we thought. But it was also possible for him to be
younger than we thought. We just couldn’t be sure. It didn’t really
matter, though. The question wasn’t why Jenson was at the American
Veterans building. The real question was where was the bag?
    I couldn’t stop yawning.
    “Man, we’re a couple of gut rumblers,” Andy
said, referring to our empty stomachs. He was right, though I’d
been too tired to notice. We stopped for breakfast, and it was all
I could do keep from falling asleep in my pancakes.
    It was almost ten o’clock before we got back
to Andy’s house. I looked longingly at Carla’s house before
dragging myself to mine. I fell across the bed, nearly asleep
already. I wanted to call her before I was out so she’d know where
I was. I managed to grab the phone off the nightstand and dial her
number, which I’d fortunately memorized. I wouldn’t have had the
strength to go find it.
    As I listened to it ring on her end, I
wondered how in the world Andy lived with such a bizarre sleep
schedule. I’d missed one night and was about to go into a coma.
    Carla answered on the fourth ring. I was
happy to hear her voice. It was so...everything. I smiled like a
fool, too tired to care, but still glad that no one was around to
witness it.
    After telling her I’d be there tonight and
her telling me she’d be waiting, I pushed the ‘end’ button and let
the phone fall on the bed beside me.
    Still wearing my clothes and shoes, I fell
asleep atop the blankets, dreaming of Carla.
     
     
     
16 Andy
    I went inside, eager to sleep. I found Jill’s
note on my pillow. She told me she loved me, which I already knew.
That was one thing I was certain about. She loved me more than
anything, as I did her. I undressed and climbed into bed, curling
up with her pillow, holding her note in my hand. I breathed deeply,
making sure to fill my lungs with her scent before I drifted off to
sleep.
    I lay there awake for a while, which I didn’t
think would happen. It wasn’t the first time, though. Night shift
always messed up my sleeping patterns. There were times when I was
too tired to