No owl hooted. Even the offending tree had gone still.
He peered into the shadows, trying to discern if she was still there, imagining her holding on to that calm smile of hers. “Mandy from the post office?”
“It’s Ben, isn’t it?” She spoke as if this was the worst news of the evening. “How did I not know the fire marshal was my neighbor?”
He chalked up the defeat in her voice to the stress of his fire inspection. His opinion of the post office didn’t reflect on her. She... He had to admit, she and her unflappable smile were more interesting than most things in Harmony Valley. “We’ve both been busy working.” And he went down Harrison to the firehouse, while she probably drove in the opposite direction to the post office.
“If our house looks vacant, it’s because I park in the garage and walk to work.” Gone was the postmaster with her defensive stubbornness. In her place was a neighbor shooting the breeze, one who fed displaced raccoons.
“Speaking of looking...” His lips turned upward for the first time that night. “I can see the moon clearly over here.”
“Rub it in,” she said, less pained than when she’d discovered he was on the other side of the hedge.
He was near enough now to see the outline of her face, although not a clear expression. Not her smile.
He wanted to see her smile.
Which was beyond ridiculous. A stranger’s smile shouldn’t matter.
Dad liked to say everything was different in Harmony Valley. If Dad were out here, he’d say Mandy wasn’t a stranger. She was a neighbor. Practically a friend. Friends found solace in each other’s smile.
“There used to be a fence here,” she said from her backyard in a voice as neutral as Switzerland.
“You lived there before?” Ben moved closer until the thick hedge that separated them nearly touched his chest. He tried to take a bead on her feelings. Was she happy to be back?
“My grandparents raised me here. Back then the Morrettis lived in your place.”
“My mom said a windstorm recently knocked down the fence and the Morrettis cleared out the debris, but didn’t rebuild.” He couldn’t see Mandy’s face in her shadowy backyard, couldn’t fathom why she wanted to see the moon. He wasn’t very patient or much good at beating around the bush. “Why do you want to look at the moon?”
More silence. He waited her out.
“I’m raising my sister,” she said in a low voice he had to strain to hear. “She’s seventeen going on thirty-seven.”
“I’m raising my goddaughter,” he said without thinking. “She’s seven going on seventy.”
Mandy chuckled. It was a warm sound that reached across the shrubs to ease the neck cramp he hadn’t realized was there.
“You can see the moon over here,” he repeated, adding quickly, “There’s a break in the hedge toward the back of the yard.” He’d discovered it when he’d checked the property to make sure it was safe for Hannah. He hadn’t realized she’d use the front door and a bicycle to go exploring.
They walked side by side to the opening.
Mandy entered his yard. The moon cast her in soft light, illuminating her gentle sanity-holding smile. She’d taken out her ponytails, and her hair hung loosely over her ears. She still wore her postal shorts and baggy shirt. She was comfortable in her own skin, disheveled as it was. Little about her should have been attractive or intriguing.
She intrigued him anyway. Opening a post office. Raising a girl. Giving him grief.
Mandy tilted her face to the heavens. “Hello, Mr. Moon.”
Talking to the moon.
Ben bit back a grin. Of course, a woman who smiled through her troubles would talk to the moon.
Erica had been a firm believer in everything having energy and heart. She’d talked about cars and fires as if they were alive and had a personality. It was probably why Hannah projected personalities on every animal she came upon.
“Mr. Moon keeps all my secrets,” Mandy whispered, bringing Ben back to the present.
He had the strongest urge to be pale and round and silent. He wanted to know the secrets Mandy told the moon, especially about her smile. He’d never been one to keep things inside. The few secrets he had, like the night he’d spent with Erica, were too personal to share with anyone.
Thinking better of his wish for Mandy’s secrets, he took a step back.
Life was cruel. Bad things happened. People let you down. And it was best to scowl and go it alone, like the big full moon Mandy was sharing her secrets with. If only the moon were scowling and not smiling, like Mandy.
“Okay,” she said with a burst of expelled air, the kind of breath that indicated she felt the awkwardness of the situation as palpably as he did. “Thanks for giving me my nightly sliver of sanity pie.” She turned. There was no smile on her face.
No smile.
He couldn’t believe it.
Ben almost reached for her, almost fell to the impulse to cup her cheek with his palm. “Come back anytime,” he said instead.
“Do you mean it?” She grinned a happy grin, one full of joy.
He grinned back. “I do.”
“Thank you.” She slipped through the hedge to her backyard. “The moon helps me deal with Olivia without breaking any eggshells.” She turned back to him, everything but her voice lost in shadow. “That’s what I call losing my temper. You know, because kids are fragile...and frustrating. And she’s taken more hits than any kid deserves.”
Like Hannah. “Wouldn’t want to be Humpty Dumpty.”
“No.”
There was another awkward pause, awkward because he felt the need to fill it and couldn’t find the right words. Mandy had her act together. He respected that. She had a way to deal with stress. He respected that. He was just worried that there were other things he liked about her that had to do with the distraction of an attractive, fascinating woman.
The last thing he needed in his life was a distraction.
“Good night,” she said softly.
Her sneakered footfalls made soft noises in the darkness.
“Good night,” he called after too long of a pause.
Ben waited until he heard Mandy’s door latch, waited until Mandy and her secrets were locked safely inside. Only then did he turn back to the house.
Without looking up at Mr. Moon.
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