MEETING NEIGHBOUR

POV- Bree

I woke up to the sounds of bird calls and the distant lap of

water hitting the shore. I rolled over and looked at the clock. It

was just past six in the evening now. I stretched and sat up,

orienting myself.

I got up, Phoebe trotting along behind me, and brushed

my teeth in the small bathroom. After I rinsed, I studied

myself in the medicine cabinet mirror. The dark circles under

my eyes were still there, although less pronounced after the

five hours of sleep I had just gotten. I pinched my cheeks tobring some color into them and gave myself a big, cheesy, fake

grin in the mirror and then shook my head at myself. “You are

going to be okay, Bree. You are strong and you are going to be

happy again. Do you hear me? There’s something good about

this place. Do you feel it?” I tilted my head and stared at

myself in the mirror for a minute longer. Lots of people gave

their own reflection pep talks in the bathroom, right? Totally

normal. I snorted softly and shook my head slightly again. I

rinsed my face and then quickly pulled my long, light brown

hair back into a messy twist at the nape of my neck.

I went out to the kitchen and opened the freezer where I

had put the frozen meals I had had in a cooler on ice in my car.

I hadn’t had a lot of food to bring with me–just the few things

that were in my refrigerator at home–a few microwaveable

meals, milk, peanut butter and bread, and some fruit. And a

half a bag of dog food for Phoebs. But it would do for a couple

days before I had to find the local grocery store.

I popped a pasta meal into the microwave sitting on the

counter and then stood eating it with a plastic fork. I watched

out the kitchen window as I ate and noticed an old woman in a

blue dress and short white hair come out of the cottage next to

mine and walk toward my porch with a basket in her hands.

When I heard her light knock, I tossed the now-empty

cardboard meal box in the trash and went to answer.

I pulled the door open and the old lady smiled warmly at

me. “Hi dear, I’m Anne Cabbott. Looks like you’re my new

neighbor. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

I smiled back at her and took the basket she offered me.

“Bree Prescott. Thank you. How nice.” I lifted a corner of the

towel on top of the basket and the sweet smell of blueberry

muffins wafted up to me. “Oh gosh, these smell delicious,” I

said. “Would you like to come in?”

“Actually, I was going to ask if you’d like to come have

some iced tea with me on my porch. I just made some fresh.”

“Oh,” I hesitated, “okay, sure. Just give me a second to

pull on some shoes.”I stepped back inside and put the muffins on my kitchen

counter and then went back to my bedroom where I had kicked

off my flip flops.

When I came back to the front, Anne was standing at the

edge of my porch waiting for me. “Such a lovely night. I try to

sit out in the evenings and enjoy it. Pretty soon I’ll be

complaining about how cold it is.”

We started walking toward her cottage. “So you live here

all year round?” I asked, glancing over at her.

She nodded. “Most of us on this side of the lake are year-

round residents. Tourists aren’t interested in this town as it is.

Over there,” she nodded her head toward the far side of the

lake, barely visible from this distance, “is where all the tourist

attractions are. Most in this town don’t mind that, like it even.

Course all that’s going to change. The woman who owns the

town, Victoria Hale, has plans for a bunch of new

development that will bring the tourists here as well.” She

sighed as we climbed the stairs to her porch and she sat down

in one of the wicker chairs. I sat on the two-person porch

swing and leaned back on the cushion.

Her porch was beautiful and homey, full of comfortable

white wicker, and bright blue and yellow cushions. There were

pots of flowers everywhere–wave petunias and potato vine

cascading over the sides.

“What do you think about bringing tourists here?”

She frowned slightly. “Oh, well, I like our quiet little

town. I say let them stay over there. We still get the passer-

throughs which is enough for my taste. Plus, I like our small

town feel. Supposedly condos are going up here, so there

won’t be any more lakeside cottages.”

I frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, realizing she meant

she’d have to move.

She waved her hand dismissively. “I’ll be okay. It’s the

businesses in town that will be closed down because of the

expansion that I worry more for.”

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