Free A Shiver of Wonder by Daniel Kelley Page B

still up, but he gave it a shake and carefully folded it onto
his lap. “Nice day.”
    She nodded as she sat down across from him.
“Yep. Don’t know why I never come out here. I always forget this
place is here.”
    David recognized her – he’d certainly passed
by her enough times since he’d moved in – but had no idea what her
name was. Her face owned the hardened, distrustful look of a
working girl that had seen it all and just wanted to be left the
hell alone, but her body appeared delicate, almost elfin. She was
short, barely touching five feet. And her hair was a natural bright
blond, usually pulled into a ponytail that jounced when she walked,
giving her that air of casual femininity that could drive men
crazy. Today, it was hanging loose about her shoulders.
    “You’re in F, right?” she asked. Her voice
was soft, unassured.
    “Yes. You’re 1D,” he replied.
    “That I am. Are you Dave?”
    “David. David Wilcott.”
    She shrugged. “Apologies, David. Bill’s told
me about you, but I can’t ever remember who’s who. I’m Janice.”
    “J. Templeton,” David smiled. She shot him
an odd look. “It’s what’s on your mailbox,” he added, a touch
sheepishly.
    She half smiled, and then her eyes roamed
the garden, taking in the gaunt bushes and the few limp roses that
were still clinging to life. “It was nicer before,” she stated.
    “It was pretty lush until a couple weeks
ago,” he answered. “Cold weather hit, everything began to
shrivel.”
    “Doesn’t that bother you?” she asked,
pointing to the fountain. “At night. You must be able to hear it
from your bedroom.” Her glance touched David’s bedroom window
before meeting his eyes again.
    “Doesn’t bother me. Sometimes Bill turns it
off, sometimes he forgets. But I like it when it’s quiet, and I
also like the sound of the water.”
    “Easy to please. Must be nice,” she said,
almost dismissively. Her eyes began to wander again.
    David was ready to take up his paper once
more when she asked, “Do you know what time it is?”
    He leaned to the side so he could pull his
watch out of a pocket. “Eleven fifteen.”
    But Janice had emitted a giggle, an honest,
ringing peal of amusement.
    “What?” David said, smiling himself.
    “I don’t think I’ve seen someone pull a
watch out to check the time in years. Nowadays it’s always a
phone.” Her hands flew up. “Sorry, sorry, I’m totally not makin’
fun of you.”
    “I’m not upset,” he grinned. “I try to use
technology as little as possible. Except for work, where I have
to.”
    Her eyes followed his hand as he returned
the watch to his pocket. “I left to take a walk about an hour ago,”
she said. “I forgot my phone, but didn’t want to bang back in to
get it. My boyfriend’s inside, sleepin’ last night off, and he gets
testy if I wake him up before he’s ready.”
    David kept his expression neutral; the idea
of sleeping past eleven on any day, even a Sunday, seemed
impossible.
    “He works nights,” Janice added quietly,
almost as though she had read David’s thoughts.
    And this is how nearly all of the
conversations between David and Janice went. Standard pleasantries,
innocuous statements, mild disclosures. She would step into the
courtyard while he was there every few weeks, they’d talk, and then
she would leave. Never once did she set foot in David’s apartment,
never once was a line crossed when he was in hers.
    Janice did eventually talk about Heck. She
had to. An array of red and purple welts on her arms kept catching
David’s eye as her long sleeves betrayed her, slipping down as she
reached for glasses for their Cokes, sneaking upwards as she sat at
her kitchen counter, elbows worrying the faded beige tiles.
    “Sorry,” she said after a particularly long
awkward silence. “Sometimes, I… things just happen to me.”
    “It’s not the first time I’ve noticed,” he
returned gently.
    She nodded. “Yeah. Well, I tend to say the
wrong