So perhaps it was just his discomfort with the unexpected social interaction. Great, I’ll leave you to it then, Ethan said, taking a step back. Just come over when you’re ready to head out to the breeder.
And we’ll see you for dinner around six. Harold nodded, already turning back toward the doghouse. I’ll see you then.
As Ethan walked back across the street, he couldn’t shake a strange feeling. There was nothing overtly suspicious about their interaction. Harold had been perfectly cordial, if a bit awkward.
Yet something felt off. Perhaps it was just the unusual sight of his reclusive neighbor suddenly making plans for a new pet after years of solitude. Or perhaps it was just the oddity of someone doing all that woodworking out in the snow.
Reaching his own front door, Ethan brushed the thoughts aside. People processed grief differently, and if Harold was finally taking steps to move forward with his life, that could only be a good thing. Ethan entered his house, stamping the snow from his boots in the entryway.
Claire was in the living room, straightening up the scattered throw pillows and magazines that had accumulated over the week. He said yes to dinner, Ethan announced, hanging his jacket on the hook by the door. Claire’s face brightened.
That’s wonderful. What time should I expect him? Around six, I think. You know what’s interesting? He’s building a new doghouse and planning to get a dog.
I offered to take him to a breeder this afternoon. Claire paused in her tidying and looked up with genuine surprise. A dog, after all these years? She smiled thoughtfully.
See, I told you he must be feeling lonely. Getting a pet is a good first step toward healing. Ethan returned to the dining table where he’d left the police documents.
I suppose so. It’s just unexpected. He’s kept that old doghouse all these years as a memorial of sorts.
Claire resumed her cleaning, moving into the kitchen now. People find different ways to move on. Speaking of which, we need groceries for dinner tonight.
We’re running low on everything and I want to make something special. Ethan sighed quietly, looking down at the stack of papers before him. He’d been hoping to spend the morning reviewing the new leads, compiling his thoughts before the week ahead consumed his time again.
Can you grab what we need? I’d really like to get through these documents today. If you don’t mind, can you help me with the grocery run instead? Claire asked. I want to clean the house properly for tonight, and you know I don’t drive well in this weather.
It’s too cold to walk or wait for the bus. Ethan looked at his wife’s hopeful expression and felt a familiar pang of guilt. She asked for so little these days, and she’d been the one to suggest reconnecting with their neighbor, a small but significant step toward normalcy.
All right, he conceded. I still have some time before Harold’s ready to go to the breeder anyway. I’ll do the grocery run, drop everything back here, and then head out with him if he’s ready.
Claire’s grateful smile was worth the sacrifice of his morning plans. She quickly wrote out a shopping list, adding items as she checked the pantry and refrigerator. Ethan headed outside again, shoveling a path from their front door to the driveway before starting the car.
He let the engine idle for a while to warm up, his breath curling into small clouds in the crisp, cold air. As he was about to pull out of the driveway, he noticed Harold crossing the street toward him. Ethan, Harold called, approaching the car window.
Ethan rolled down the window. Hey, all set with the doghouse already? Harold shook his head. Actually, I just remembered I already have plans to meet with some friends this morning.
I’ll have to cancel our trip to the breeder, but I’ll still come for dinner tonight. No problem at all, Ethan replied, surprised that the reclusive Harold had social plans. I’m just heading out for groceries.
We’ll see you at six. Harold nodded and turned back toward his own house. Ethan watched him go, that strange feeling returning.
In all the years they’d been neighbors, he’d never known Harold to mention friends or social gatherings. But then again, they hadn’t exactly been close in recent years, both families retreating into their private sorrows. Ethan drove to the supermarket, his mind toggling between thoughts of Joshua and mental notes of what to buy.
The grocery store was relatively empty for a Saturday, most people likely deterred by the weather forecast predicting more snow later that day. He methodically worked through Claire’s list, adding a few items he knew she liked but had forgotten to write down. As he loaded the groceries into the car, heavy gray clouds were gathering overhead.
Promising the predicted snowfall would arrive sooner rather than later. As Ethan pulled out of the supermarket parking lot, a familiar car passed by on the main road. He did a double take, recognizing Harold’s blue sedan.
The car’s windows were clear enough that Ethan could easily see Harold was alone, driving in the opposite direction from where their neighborhood was located. Ethan’s route home followed the same road for a while, and he found himself unintentionally trailing Harold at a distance. A few minutes later, Harold’s car pulled into the parking lot of Northwoods Kennels, a local dog breeder that Ethan had mentioned earlier.
Ethan drove past slowly, confusion settling in. Harold had canceled their trip together, claiming he had plans with friends, yet here he was at the very breeder, alone. For a moment, Ethan considered pulling in as well, but what would he say? He had no right to question Harold’s white lie.
Perhaps the man simply preferred to choose a dog on his own, without the pressure of someone else’s opinions. Or maybe he was meeting his friends there. Still, as Ethan continued home, the inconsistency bothered him.
It seemed a strange thing to lie about, especially when Ethan had offered his help and expertise. But Harold had always been odd and private, more so since his tragedy. By the time Ethan arrived home, light snow had begun to fall again.
He unloaded the groceries quickly and found Claire in the kitchen, already preparing for dinner. You’re back sooner than I expected, she said, taking a bag from his hands. Ethan nodded.
There wasn’t much traffic, and actually I saw Harold at the kennel on my way back. The kennel? I thought he canceled with you. He did, Ethan replied, setting down the remaining bags on the counter.
Said he had plans with friends, but I just saw him pulling into Northwood’s kennels, alone. Claire paused in unpacking the groceries. Well, that is strange, but it’s not really our business, is it? Maybe he just wanted to look on his own first…
Обсуждение закрыто.