He seemed to mull this over. “I don’t know.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me,” he said. “The last thing I need in my life is a crazy neighbor. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I learned a long time ago to call ’em like I see ’em.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No?” He didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “Actually, I think I’m being more than fair. But I’ll tell you what—if you’re willing to start over, I’m willing to start over. But only if you’re certain you want that.”
“I am.”
“Okay, then,” he said. He retraced his steps to the deck. “Hi,” he offered, holding out his hand. “My name is Travis Parker, and I want to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
She stared at his hand. After a moment, she took it and said, “I’m Gabby Holland. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“What do you do?
“I’m a physician assistant,” she said, feeling slightly ridiculous. “How about you?’
“I’m a veterinarian,” he said. “Where are you from?”
“Savannah, Georgia,” she answered. “And you?”
“From here,” he said. “Born and raised.”
“Do you like it here?”
“What’s not to like? Beautiful weather, zero traffic.” He paused. “And for the most part, nice neighbors, too.”
“I’ve heard that,” she said. “In fact, I know the vet here in town might even make an emergency house call now and then. Can’t find that in the city.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would.” He motioned over his shoulder. “Hey, by the way, my friends and I are heading out on the boat today. Would you like to join us?”
She squinted up at him. “I would, but I have to build a pen for the puppies my dog, Molly, had two nights ago. I don’t want you to have to wait for me.”
“Need some help? I’ve got some extra planks of wood and some crates in the garage. It won’t take long.”
She hesitated, then looked up with a smile. “In that case, I’d love to go.”
Travis was as good as his word. He arrived—still half-naked, to her dismay—carrying four long boards beneath his arms. After dropping those off, he jogged back to his garage. He returned with the crates, along with a hammer and a handful of nails.
Though he pretended not to notice the smell, she noticed that he put the pen together far faster than she would have imagined possible.
“You should probably line this area with newspapers. Do you have enough?”
When she nodded, he motioned toward his house again. “I’ve still got a few things to take care of, so I’ll see you in a little while, okay?”
Gabby nodded again, feeling a roiling sensation in her stomach, something akin to nervousness. Which was why, after she’d watched him enter his house and had lined the pen, she found herself standing in the bedroom, evaluating the merits of swimwear. More specifically, whether she should wear her bikini or her one-piece.
There were pros and cons to each. Normally, she would have worn her bikini. She was, after all, twenty-six and single, and even if she wasn’t a supermodel, she was honest enough to admit she liked the way she looked in a bikini. Kevin certainly did—if she even suggested that she wear a one-piece, Kevin would pout until she changed her mind. On the other hand, Kevin wasn’t around, she would be hanging out with a neighbor (guy!), and considering the size of her bikini, she might as well be wearing a bra and panties, none of which would make her feel very comfortable and all of which added up to the one-piece.
Still, her one-piece was sort of old and a little faded from chlorine and sun. Her mother had purchased it for her a few years ago, for afternoons spent at the country club (God forbid she expose herself like a harlot!). It wasn’t a particularly flattering cut, as far as one-pieces went. Instead of a high cut on her thighs, the suit was cut low on the sides, which made her legs look short and stumpy.
She didn’t want her legs to look short and stumpy. On the other hand, did it really matter? Of course not, she thought, while simultaneously thinking, Of course it did.
The one-piece, she decided. At the very least, she wouldn’t give any of them the wrong impression about her. And there were going to be kids on the boat, too. It was better to err on the conservative side than to be a bit too . . . exposed. She reached for the one-piece, and all at once she could hear her mother telling her that she’d made the right decision.
Tossing it back on the bed, she reached for the bikini.
Eight
You invited the new neighbor over, huh?” Stephanie asked. “What’s her name again?”
“Gabby,” Travis answered, pulling the boat closer to the dock. “She should be here any minute.” The rope tightened and then slackened as the boat was maneuvered into place. They’d just lowered it into the water and were tying it up to the dock to load the coolers.
“She’s single, right?”
“Technically. But she has a boyfriend.”
“So?” Stephanie grinned. “When have you ever let that stop you?”
“Don’t read anything into this. He’s out of town and she had nothing to do, so being the good neighbor, I invited her along.”
“Uh-huh.” Stephanie nodded. “Sounds just like you to do something honorable like that.”
“I am honorable,” he protested.
“That’s what I just said.”
Travis finished tying the boat. “But you didn’t sound like you meant it.”
“I didn’t? That’s strange.”
“Yeah, yeah. Keep it up.”
Travis grabbed the cooler and hopped in the boat.
“Umm . . . you think she’s attractive, don’t you?”
Travis put the cooler in place. “I guess.”
“You guess?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing.”
Travis looked at his sister. “Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be a long day?”
“I have no idea.”
“Do me a favor, okay? Go easy on her.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Just . . . let her get used to everyone before you start in on her.”
Stephanie cackled. “You do realize who you’re talking to, right?”
“I’m just saying that she might not understand your humor.”
“I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“So . . . you ready to go skinny-dipping?” Stephanie asked.
Gabby blinked, unsure she’d heard her right. “Excuse me?”
A minute earlier, Stephanie had walked over wearing a long T-shirt and holding a couple of beers. Handing one to Gabby, she’d introduced herself as Travis’s sister and led her to some chairs along the back deck while Travis finished up.
“Oh, not right now.” Stephanie waved. “It usually takes a couple of beers before everyone is loose enough to drop their drawers.”
“Skinny-dipping?”
“You did know that Travis is a nudist, right?” She nodded toward the slip-and-slide Travis had set up earlier. “After that, we generally go slip-and-sliding.”
Though her head felt as though it were spinning, Gabby nodded almost imperceptibly as she felt things click into place: the fact that Travis usually seemed only half-dressed, his utter lack of discomfort at conversing with his chest bared, an explanation for why he worked out so much.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Stephanie’s laughter.
“I was kidding!” she hooted. “Do you honestly think I’d go skinny-dipping with my brother around? Ewww! That’s gross!”
Gabby felt a red-hot flush work its way up from her neck to her face. “I knew you were kidding.”
Stephanie eyed Gabby over her beer. “You did think I was serious! Oh, that’s a hoot! But I’m sorry. My brother warned me to take it easy on you. For whatever reason, he thinks my humor takes some getting used to.”
Gee, I wonder why. “Really?” Gabby said instead.
“Yeah, but if you ask me, we’re two peas in a pod. Where do you think I learned it?” Stephanie leaned back in her seat as she adjusted her sunglasses. “Travis tells me you’re a physician assistant?”
“Yeah. I work at the children’s clinic.”
“How is it?”
“I enjoy it,” she said, thinking it best not to mention her pervert boss or the occasionally overbearing parent. “How about you?”
“I’m a student,” she said. She took a sip of beer. “I’m thinking of making it my career.”
For the first time, Gabby laughed and felt herself begin to relax. “Do you know who else is coming?”
“Oh, probably the same old crew. Travis has these three friends he’s known forever, and I’m sure they’ll be here along with their wives and kids. Travis doesn’t bring the parasail boat out too much anymore, which is why he keeps it docked at the marina. Usually he uses the ski boat, because wakeboarding or skiing is a lot easier. Just get in the boat, lower the lift, and go. You can wakeboard or ski or skurf almost anywhere. But parasailing is great. Why do you think I’m here? I should be studying, and I actually ditched some lab work I was supposed to do this weekend. Have you ever been parasailing?”
“No.”
“You’ll love it. And Travis knows what he’s doing. That’s how he earned extra spending money while he was in college. Or, at least, that’s what he claims. Actually, I’m fairly certain that everything he earned was used to buy the boat; they’re manufactured by CWS exclusively for parasailing, and they’re very expensive. And even though Joe, Matt, and Laird are his friends, they still insisted on getting paid when they took the tourists out during their student days. I’m pretty sure Travis never earned a nickel of profit.”
“So he’s quite the shrewd businessman, huh?”
Stephanie laughed. “Oh yeah. My brother. A budding Donald Trump, right? Actually, he doesn’t much care about money and never has. I mean, sure, he earns a living and pays his own way, but anything left over goes to new boats or Jet Skis or trips here and there. It seems like he’s been everywhere. Europe, Central and South America, Australia, Africa, Bali, China, Nepal . . .”
“Really?’
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. I guess it’s because . . .”
“Because he seems like such a goof-off? Like everything’s a party?”
“No!”
“You sure about that?”
“Well . . .” Gabby trailed off, and Stephanie laughed again.
“He’s a goof-off, and a worldly young man . . . but underneath, he’s really just a small-town boy like the rest of them. Otherwise he wouldn’t be living here, right?”
“Right,” Gabby said, not sure whether an answer was even needed.
“Anyway, you’ll love it. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
“No. I mean, I’m not thrilled with them, but I’m sure I’ll manage.”
“It’s no big deal. Just remember you have a parachute.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
In the distance, a car door slammed, and Stephanie sat up straighter.
“Here come the Clampetts,” Stephanie remarked. “Or, if you prefer, the Brady Bunch. Brace yourself. Our relaxing morning is about to end.”
Gabby turned and spotted a rowdy group rounding the side of the house. Chatter and shouts rang out as the children ran in front of the adults, moving in that wobbly way that made them seem as if they were constantly on the verge of falling.
Stephanie leaned closer. “It’s easy to distinguish them, believe it or not. Megan and Joe are the ones with blond hair. Laird and Allison are the tall ones. And Matt and Liz are . . . less thin than the others.”
The corners of Gabby’s mouth curled up slightly. “Less thin?”
“I didn’t want to call them plump. But I was just trying to make it easy for you. In theory, I’d hate being introduced to a bunch of people and forgetting their names a minute later.”
“In theory?”
“I don’t forget names. It’s kind of strange, but I never do.”
“What makes you think I’d forget their names?”
Stephanie shrugged. “You’re not me.”
Gabby laughed again, liking her more by the minute. “How about the kids?”
“Tina, Josie, and Ben. Ben’s easy to figure out. Just remember that Josie has the pigtails.”
“What if she’s not in pigtails the next time I see her?”
Stephanie grinned. “Why? Do you think you’ll be coming over regularly? What about your boyfriend?”
Gabby shook her head. “No, you misunderstood what I meant—”
“I was teasing! My, you’re touchy.”
“I’m not sure I can keep them straight.”
“All right. Try these memory association tricks. For Tina, think of Tina Louise from Gilligan’s Island. Ginger? The movie star? She has red hair, too.”
Gabby nodded.
“Okay, for Josie, think of Josie and the Pussycats. And for Ben—who’s kind of big and square for his age, think of Big Ben, the giant clock in England.”
“Okaaay . . .”
“I’m serious. This’ll really help. Now, for Joe and Megan—the blonds, imagine blond GI Joe fighting a megalodon—you know, one of those giant prehistoric sharks. Really picture it, okay?”
Gabby nodded again.
“For Laird and Allison, imagine a supertall allosaurus stuck in his lair. And finally, for Matt and Liz . . .” Stephanie paused. “Oh, I know . . . imagine Elizabeth Taylor lying on a porch mat, eating fried pork rinds. Are you really picturing it?”