I’d been waking up with just that feeling every morning for the past two weeks—ever since we moved back into the tiny house on Sycamore Street.
Rosemarie and Suzanne had patched things up. I wish I could’ve said the same for our house. There was a lot of patching left to do, though they assured us they were right on schedule and we’d be back in the house in another month. I had my doubts, but Nick didn’t seem to mind simple living. He also didn’t seem to mind the neighbors, and had gotten a nice kick out of the weekly NAD Squad meetings.
It was like an alien had taken over my husband. Or maybe he was just trying to be the calm one. Every relationship needed a calming influence, and I’d found talks of renovations and neighborhood watch meetings made my blood pressure go up.
“You better get up,” Nick said, sticking his head in the bedroom door. “It’s our turn to host, and everyone will be here soon.”
“Did you make cranberry muffins for Mrs. Rodriguez?” I asked, sneaking a peek from under the pillow.
“Yes,” Nick said. “And I made extra for you so you don’t eat them all before she gets here like last week.”
The morning sickness had finally passed, and it was nice being able to wake up and not feel like I was living in someone else’s body. I tossed back the covers and followed my nose to the kitchen.
“You’re spoiling me,” I said, taking the cup of tea Nick handed me. “I could get used to this.”
“I’m hoping you’ll remember all this good stuff when you’re wishing I’m dead come delivery room time.”
I grinned and grabbed a muffin hot from the tray and went to stand at the window. I was wearing flannel shorts and a soft black T-shirt that cleverly said Namastay in my Bed. I’d remembered to always stay fully covered from my previous time living in the house. I looked out the window and saw my next-door neighbor, Leonard Winkle—also known as Spock—staring back at me through a pair of binoculars. He waved, and I waved back, as was our custom.
I took a bite of muffin and chewed slowly as I moved to stare out the front window. Eating didn’t stop the tears from coming to my eyes. The moving van blocked Savage’s driveway. We’d all said our goodbyes, but I’d been dreading this moment. It’s why I’d stayed in bed so long.
I pushed the screen door open and went to stand on the front porch, and I noticed several of the other neighbors had done the same, most standing in their bathrobes or with a coffee cup in hand.
I felt Nick step up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder as the truck driver slid the back door closed and got in behind the wheel. It didn’t take long for the truck to drive away, leaving the sight of Savage’s empty house in its wake.
And in the driveway, standing next to his truck, was Savage. It was hard to decipher the look on his face, but I knew as exciting of an opportunity this was for him, the change would be hard.
He looked up and down the street once and gave a final wave to all the neighbors, causing them to cheer in send-off. Then he looked across the street at me and nodded. We shared good memories between us, but every season had to change eventually. And then he grinned, gave me a quick salute, and got in his Tahoe and backed out of the driveway.
The neighbors were still cheering as he left Sycamore Street for the last time.
Nick squeezed my shoulder and went inside, leaving me to my thoughts on the porch. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there until I saw another car I recognized approaching.
Kate pulled behind my Audi in the driveway. The weather had warmed quite a bit over the last two weeks, but there was still a slight chill in the morning air. She had on boyfriend jeans and black-and-white-striped shirt and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure on this beautiful Saturday morning?” I asked. “I thought you and Mike were going to Aruba.”
“We don’t leave until tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll bring you back a seashell necklace.”
“Come on in,” I told her. “We’ve got muffins.”
“No, thanks,” she said. “I don’t want Mrs. Rodriguez to kill me. She’s scary.”
“Nick made an extra batch.”
“You married a smart man,” she said, grabbing a muffin.
Nick came out of the bedroom dressed in jeans and his NAD Squad T-shirt.
“I swear, I think you’re enjoying this,” I said.
“What’s not to like?” he said. “It’s the most entertaining day of my week. Beats the hell out of dead bodies.”
“I guess when you put it that way,” I said.
“What was that I heard about me being the smartest and most good-looking man on the planet?” he asked, kissing me on the top of the head as he went into the kitchen to pour himself and Kate a cup of coffee.
“None for me,” she said. “I can’t stay. I just came to drop these papers off.”
“What papers?” I asked.
“Ask your smart and handsome husband,” she said, putting a thick envelope down on the bar.
Nick looked nervous. And he never looked nervous. But he took the envelope and opened it up, pulling out a thick folder.
“Congratulations,” he said, pushing the folder toward me.
“For what?”
“You’re the proud owner of the McClean Detective Agency,” Nick said.
My mouth dropped open, and I stared at Nick.
“Do you think she’s breathing?” Kate asked.
“I sure hope so,” he said. “That’s a long time to go without taking a breath.”
“Addison,” Kate said, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
“Are you serious?” I asked. “This is a joke, isn’t it?” I looked back and forth between them, and they were both grinning like loons.
“It’s not a joke,” Nick said.
I couldn’t think of
