Читать книгу An Accidental Family - Loree Lough - Страница 10

Nadine tossed and turned for hours, alternately staring at the ceiling and punching her pillows. Flipping the covers aside, she stepped into her bedroom slippers and headed downstairs, belting a light terry robe on the way. No need for lights for, even in the dead of night she could navigate these rooms with her eyes closed. No surprise there, with all the practice she’d gotten while Ernest was alive. How many times, she wondered, filling the teapot with water, had she paced the floors, trembling with fear and rage and bitterness as she waited for the throbbing aches and pains of yet another beating to ease?

“Too many to count,” she whispered, staring at the blue flame that she turned on under the kettle. She’d worked hard to keep the cuts and bruises camouflaged, a job made easier because Ernest had always been careful to leave evidence of his brutality in places that could be covered. If she didn’t know better, she would have said he took those lessons from her own father.

When had the switch flipped, she wondered, turning Ernest from the loving young man who vowed to protect his sweetheart from her father’s manhandling, to the mean-spirited husband who made her pa seem gentle as a kitten? A jagged scar on her forearm, the remnant of a long-ago beating, caught her eye. Instinct made her tug at the sleeve of her robe to hide it.

Old habits die hard, she glumly thought. If Nadine had a dollar for every time someone asked why she’d worn trousers and long-sleeved shirts in the dead of summer, maybe she could pay one of the steadily mounting bills that lay in a tidy stack on her desk.

These past three years had been tougher than any in memory. The run of bad fortune began when her stud bull broke free of his pen and wandered into the path of a speeding eighteen-wheeler. Two calves born that spring had been too weak to survive. The following fall, weevils had attacked her fields, destroying the harvest that would have fed the livestock. Then, three years of oppressive, unrelenting drought.

Somehow, Nadine managed to hang on through the first two years, even as other ranchers filed for bankruptcy. But this year? This year, her grip was slipping with each passing day.

She carried her tea outside and stood on the porch. The crisp scent of rain made her heart ache with dreary acceptance, because the steady downfall that now pounded the hard-packed earth had come weeks too late to save this year’s crops.

Lamont’s spread, by contrast, seemed untouched by nature’s cruel hand. But then, he’d had the financial resources to dig deep wells that helped irrigate his fields. If one of his bulls died? Well, he had dozens of others grazing in white-fenced green pastures. Neighbors envied Lamont’s knack for turning profits into wise investments. Some went as far as to ask his advice about where to put their money, when there was money left after filling their creditors’ pockets. Nadine respected and admired Lamont’s talents but, God help her, she envied them, too.

And envy was wrong. Spiteful and sinful. “A sound heart is the life of the flesh,” she quoted Proverbs, “but envy the rottenness of the bones.”

Shivering, she tilted her face toward the Heavens. “Lord, a little more backbone might be useful right about now.”

Backbone. Lamont had it in abundance. Truth be told, it was his grit and his guts that she envied more than anything else.

Bowing her head, she hugged the thick ceramic mug to her chest. As the steaming brew warmed her face, she took a deep breath, pictured him sitting at her kitchen table, looking as though he belonged, stirring sugar into his cup with a spoon that, in his powerful, callused hand, looked like one from Amy’s tea set.

Just thinking about him made her pulse race.

And she didn’t welcome the reaction, either. Several times tonight, she would have sworn he aimed to kiss her, and the thought made her scramble for legitimate excuses to keep plenty of space between them, physically and emotionally.

She’d seen Lamont lose his temper—during cattle auctions, in the feed and grain, at the hardware store. Ernest personified the “street angel, house devil” rule; if Lamont behaved that way when people were around, how much more aggressive might he be one-on-one?

She couldn’t afford to find out.

Nadine leaned against a porch support post as a mist of rain bounced up from the flagstone steps and onto her slippered feet. She barely felt it, though, as she thought of Rose. In all the years Nadine had known her, Lamont’s wife hadn’t given so much as a hint of being abused. But then, it wasn’t likely Rose would have guessed what often went on inside Nadine’s house, either.

Could she be wrong about Lamont? Did he fit the “His bark is worse than his bite” adage?

Not that it made a bit of difference. Nadine didn’t trust herself to make smart decisions where men were concerned, so except for the few who worked for her at Greeneland Ranch, she’d avoided them altogether. And despite hard times, she’d held on as well as any male rancher she could name.

Shoulders sagging, she went back inside, bolted the door behind her and resigned herself to spending a few hours with the Good Book. God’s word had helped her keep “white knight” dreams at bay in the past. By morning, any romantic notions about Lamont would be a distant memory, and she’d go back to accepting her lot in life.

But she didn’t have to like it.

Bright and early the next morning, it was still raining when Adam padded into the kitchen, looking rumpled and frazzled as the weather outside. “Look at this mess,” he said, stacking coloring books and construction paper on the table. He flopped onto a straight-backed chair as she closed her crossword puzzle book. “You can’t even get a minute’s peace and privacy since we invaded your house.”

“You know I love having you…”

“It’s only temporary,” Adam said, “until Julie and I get this mess straightened out.”

How many times had he said that since they’d moved in, weeks ago? Lord, she prayed, help me find words to comfort him. “I feel terrible admitting it,” she said, sitting beside him. “But your cloud has been my silver lining. I haven’t been this contented since before you and Julie got married and you left me all alone.”

Adam chuckled at her deliberately exaggerated misery. “You’re the best, Mom.”

She’d been listening to her boy’s laughter all his twenty-six years and knew when it was sincere and when it wasn’t. Her heart ached for her only child. Maternal love hadn’t protected him from measles or chicken pox; hadn’t saved him from skinned knees, sprains and fractures; hadn’t spared him the anguish of a breakup once he reached dating age. She couldn’t protect him from this, either, but she aimed to try.

“Maybe while we’re here,” he said, “Julie will learn a thing or two from you about how to be a good wife and mother.”

“Thank goodness I sent her to the cellar to sort laundry, because if she heard a thing like that, she’d be crushed. I’ll admit she did some pretty ridiculous things, but you know in your heart she didn’t do them on purpose. Why, the way that poor girl was raised, it’s a wonder—”

“I’m tired of letting her off the hook because of her background.”

She pressed a palm to each of his cheeks. “Julie is your wife, Adam, and the mother of your child. That money she lost is gone, but you can earn more. If you drive her away, well, you can’t be sure you’ll get her back. It’s as plain as the nose on your face that she’s trying. Give her credit for that, at least.”

His expression reminded her of days long gone, when a shrug and a half smile were precursors to a bored “I guess you’re right.” This time, he got up and grabbed the lunch bucket he’d been carrying since he started that stock-boy job at Lotsmart.

He was halfway out the door when she said, “Will you do me a favor today?”

“Sure.”

“Pray about what I said?”

“Guess it can’t hurt,” he said, his voice glum. “At least that won’t cost me anything.”

Every chance she got that day, she prayed, too. Nadine thanked God that neither the landlord nor the manager of the car dealership had decided to press charges against Julie, and for providing Adam with a job that helped put food on the table and keep the lights turned on. She asked Him to soften her son’s heart toward his young, confused wife, and begged him to supply every dime required to keep the bank from foreclosing on her ranch. He’d seen her through bad times before, and He’d see her through this one, too. Nadine believed that. She had to believe it!

The jangling phone startled her, and she silenced it with a surly, “Hello…”

“Ah, a voice for sore ears…”

Was Lamont’s voice really all it took to sweeten her sour mood?

“What time should I put the steaks on?”

Nadine had tossed and turned for hours, and by morning, convinced herself that she’d misread his signals. Why would a handsome, powerful widower be interested in a nearly broke grandmother whose kids had come home, adding to her wagonload of emotional and financial baggage? She came up with just one reason: He was the hero-to-the-rescue type and saw her as someone in need of rescuing. And when he tired of trying to fix what was wrong with her life, he’d move on to the next single gal waiting in the Available Bachelor line. By then, she’d be head over heels and it would hurt like crazy to send him packing. Far better to do it now, when all she felt for him was a tiny, schoolgirl crush. “How rude of me to wait until the last minute,” Nadine began, “but—”

She heard his gruff sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re not coming to dinner…”

“Sorry, but I can’t.” Didn’t dare was more like it, but she decided to keep that to herself.

The pause was so long and complete that, for a moment, she thought they’d been disconnected. Then Lamont said, “Is everything okay?”

Pursing her lips, she resisted the urge to say, “Jim hasn’t killed any flies lately…that I know of.” Stop being such a pessimist, she scolded herself. He’s only asking out of friendly concern for you. “Yes, everything is fine.”

“Guess you’re just busy, eh, what with the kids home again and all. Well, here’s an idea. How about if I bring the steaks over there? I have more than enough for—”

“No.” If she sounded abrupt and cold to herself, how must she have sounded to Lamont? But it wasn’t fair to punish him for the mess her life was in. Wasn’t fair to assume that he was like Ernest, just because he’d shown signs of having a fierce temper. “It’s just—I have a lot to do,” she added, taking care to soften her tone. “Beds to make and—”

“No need to get all defensive with me, Nadine. I understand.”

But his tone told her just the opposite.

“We’ll do it another time,” he added.

Was he waiting for her to agree, perhaps even suggest a day and time? Had she read him right, after all? The very thought filled her with fear and dread, because even if she hadn’t made that ludicrous promise to herself, Ernest was the only man she’d ever dated. Besides, no way she could even begin to compete with the bevy of beauties who surrounded Lamont everywhere he went. “I—I’d better go,” she said. “Julie volunteered to make supper, using an old recipe she found in one of my cookbooks. I promised to make her a list of the ingredients and—”

“Well,” he interrupted, “better get a-move on, myself. But don’t worry your pretty head about these thick juicy steaks going to waste. And don’t give a thought to li’l ol’ me, grilling and eating them all by my lonesome.”

His good-natured teasing wafted into her ear, and she laughed softly. “When I say my devotions later, I’ll be sure to thank God.”

“For what?”

“For making you so big and strong and brave.” Instantly, she regretted the coy comeback.

“Not so big and brave that I don’t feel like a weak knobby-kneed young’un, missin’ the daylights outta his best girl.”

Nadine’s heart ached. Because “what she wanted” and “the right thing to do” were miles apart. “I’m sorry if you went to any trouble with—”

“Hey, you’re no trouble, kiddo. No trouble at all.” He paused. “But even if you were? Trust me, you’d be worth it.”

Hang up, Nadine! Just hang up before you run over there and throw yourself into his arms! “Well,” she muttered, “g’bye, then.”

“See you soon, I hope,” he said, and hung up.

And if Julie and Amy hadn’t burst into the kitchen just then, she probably would have sat right down on the floor and cried like a brokenhearted little girl.

Because that’s exactly how she felt.

Hours later, Lamont was still pacing his big country kitchen, head down and hands in his pockets.

Just last night, Nadine had seemed reasonably excited about his dinner invitation. What had changed between then and now? Had he violated some unwritten rule? Did she expect him to call sooner? More than once? “Women,” he muttered, shaking his head. “The man who can figure ’em out will be a multitrillionaire for sure.”

He grabbed a bottle of root beer from the fridge, pocketing the screw top as he strode into the family room. Settled in his recliner, Lamont picked up the remote and aimed it at the TV. The chair’s well-worn brown leather squeaked in protest as he shifted his six-foot frame. Not even his favorite chair felt comfortable tonight.

Lamont pictured her as she’d looked last night, face aglow in the moonlight and blushing like a teenager as she reminded him that they both had to get up early.

“Doesn’t take a brick to fall on my head,” he’d joked. “I can take a hint.”

“No,” she’d said, giggling, “you can’t. I’ve been dropping hints for the past hour!” Then, as if worried that she might have embarrassed him, Nadine said, “Drive safely. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Well, it was tomorrow, and he didn’t mind admitting to himself what a letdown it had been when she’d canceled on him.

Obnoxious padded into the room, rested his chin on Lamont’s knees and whimpered. From the time he was a pup, the mutt had been attuned to his master’s moods. “Don’t worry, boy,” Lamont said, ruffling his fur, “your old man is fine, just fine.” He got to his feet. “How ’bout we fire up the grill? Who needs a woman around, changing her mind? Besides, we can’t let perfectly good beef go to waste, can we?”

Obnoxious’s ears perked up, and he answered with a breathy bark.

As Lamont flipped the steaks over the open fire, the dog sat watching, waiting patiently, grinning doggy-style. “Wonder if you’d be smilin’ if you knew you were second choice as my dinner companion,” Lamont said, cutting one steak into bite-sized cubes.

Obnoxious tilted his head, fuzzy brows rising as if he’d understood.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, boy?”

The dog responded with a quiet yip.

Half an hour later, as Lamont scraped the bony leftovers of their meal into the trash can, he remembered the cool tone in Nadine’s voice. Yeah, the truth hurt, all right, and hopefully, when he shaved in the morning, it wouldn’t stare boldly back at him from the mirror.

The weeks dragged by slower than a donkey-pulled plow. Since Nadine had canceled “steak night,” Lamont had been short-tempered with the ranch hands, and pretty much anyone else who crossed his path, too. His daughter, Lily, had a knack for teasing him out of a foul mood, but in good conscience he couldn’t interrupt the new bride’s zeal to get her house in order, especially not over something that was little more than a foolish infatuation.

Lamont gave some thought to changing Obnoxious’s name to Oblivious, because if the mutt had noticed his master’s beastly behavior, it sure didn’t show. The dog ran circles around him now, leaping and yipping like a puppy as Lamont threw a blanket over the back of his favorite horse. “Long ride on a good horse will cure what ails a man,” he said, cinching the saddle.

He’d barely slid his boot into Barney’s stirrup when his cell phone rang. Lamont would’ve ignored it if it hadn’t been Nadine’s number on the caller ID. Instantly, his spirits lifted, as if a spring breeze had blown his foul mood deep into the dark and distant winter.

“Hey, there, pretty lady!”

A rascally chuckle crackled through the connection, telling Lamont what Adam needn’t have said: “Sorry to disappoint you, Romeo.”

He sounded so much like Ernest that Lamont instinctively shot back with a taunting remark, as he would’ve if Adam’s father had made the comment: “If you’ve got nothing better to do than play with the telephone, c’mon over here. I’ll be glad to—”

Laughing, Adam cut in. “Whoa, there. Easy, big fella.”

Lamont could almost see him, grinning like a hyena, hands in the air as if he were the victim of a holdup.

“I’m just calling to see if you’ll help us celebrate Mom’s birthday tomorrow.”

Birthday? But hadn’t she just celebrated her birthday recently?

“Julie invited some of the folks from church, but mostly, it’ll be neighbors. I’ve been scrimping and saving, but she’s got some harebrained idea that this will show Mom how much we appreciate the way she let us move in here. And it just wouldn’t be a party without Mom’s best beau.”

The term echoed in his head. He’d give just about anything if that were true, but Nadine’s attitude when she canceled dinner echoed louder. Lamont took a deep breath, exhaled it slowly. “You’re not too old to take over my knee, y’know.” Just for good measure, he tacked on, “Whippersnapper.”

Adam snickered. “You’ve been saying that since I stood eye-to-eye with a rooster.”

Lamont thanked God for old memories that, for the moment, anyway, blotted out Nadine’s last phone call. The boy had seemed to prefer hanging around the ranch to staying home, and had enthusiastically performed mundane chores. The price to pay for Lamont came in the form of a few dollars—and pranks of every shape and variety. Adam had been about seven when he coated the door handle of Lamont’s pickup with honey. The boy was eight or nine when he put salt in the sugar bowl. Once, he’d outfitted one of Lily’s piglets in a doll’s raincoat and hung a sign around its neck: “LONDON HOG.” And after reading Tom Sawyer as a homework assignment, he tried to steal one of Cammi’s fresh-baked cherry pies, cooling on the countertop. Startled when Lamont snuck up and seized his wrist, Adam’s fingers pierced the crust. Instead of cringing or crying, the then-eleven-year-old grinned and shrugged. “Guess you caught me red-handed this time, Mr. London!”

If he’d had a son, Lamont would have wanted him to be just like Adam—bighearted and hardworking with a “Never say quit” spirit. “When’s the party?”

“Tomorrow, Mom’s house, three o’clock.”

He’d earmarked tomorrow for mending fences and painting the front porch trim, but given a choice between chores and seeing Nadine?

“Be there with bells on.”

“And carrying a bouquet of daisies?”

Daisies? As if he were courting her? “Adam, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were still a knock-kneed young’un instead of a grown man with a wife and daughter of his own.”

He heard the grin in Adam’s voice: “Remember what Mom says.”

Lamont shook his head as Adam quoted her: “God and nature have decreed that I must age, but I refuse to get old!”

He also remembered that, as a teenager, Adam had worked at the Flower Cart in town. “So,” Lamont said, “if I wanted to bring roses, instead, what color should I buy?”

“Lemme see if I recall…” Adam cleared his throat. “White stands for purity, red means love, yellow is for friendship, pink is—”

He didn’t hear anything after love. “Should I bring anything?” Lamont asked. “Beans? Ketchup?” He grinned. “Salt for the sugar bowl?”

“For an old guy, you have a pretty good memory.” He quickly added, “Ladies Auxiliary is taking care of the food. Lily’s making iced tea and lemonade, and Cammi’s bringing the cake, so, thanks, but we’re all set.” Adam hesitated. “And just in case you run into her between now and tomorrow, Mom has no idea we’re throwing this bash. I can hardly wait to see her face when everybody bellows, ‘Happy Birthday’! She’s liable to blow a gasket.”

“Let’s hope not. Remember what happened when my old tractor blew one.”

The younger man chuckled. “Gave me nightmares for weeks. See you tomorrow,” he said, hanging up.

“Well, Obnoxious,” Lamont said, “looks like you ’n’ me are goin’ to a birthday party.”

Sitting on his haunches, the dog cocked his head, as if to say “I’m invited?”

“Yeah, you can come,” Lamont said, hoisting himself onto his horse Barney’s back, “but only if you promise to coax Nadine into a corner so I can give her a birthday kiss.”

Obnoxious stared for a moment, then woofed his consent and raced alongside the horse. Lamont led it in a gallop toward the back pastures. “You arrange that for me,” he added, “and I’ll grill up the thickest filet mignon in the freezer, just for you.”

The dog stopped running so fast that dirt and grit spewed out behind him. Standing stock-still, he blinked up at Lamont, doggy grin as big as ever, then ran full speed toward the house.

Lamont leaned forward and patted the horse’s mane. “Barney, m’boy, sometimes I think that mutt understands every word I’m saying.”

By Lamont’s count, there were at least sixty people in Nadine’s backyard, mostly women, but none compared to the birthday girl. Not even his gorgeous daughters—and that was saying something.

He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her since she stepped off the back porch and slapped both dainty hands to her cheeks. “I can’t believe it!” she chanted half a dozen times. “How’d you guys pull this off without me knowing about it?” The surprise turned her cheeks bright pink, making her look more like a college cheerleader than a grandmother.

She’d pulled her shoulder-length blond hair into a ponytail and secured it with a ribbon that matched the blue of her eyes. White sneakered feet seemed too tiny to hold a full-grown woman upright and, in his opinion, her jeans-clad legs were way too curvy to belong to any woman over twenty-one. Nadine topped off her outfit with a bright white T-shirt that said, “Beware: Picture-packin’ Granny.”

She was like a female Pied Piper, with no fewer than half a dozen tots hugging her knees, tugging at her pockets. As she balanced a chubby baby on one curvy hip, she held a toddler by the hand. Obnoxious pranced around, waiting for a pat on the head, and Julie’s cat wove figure eights between Nadine’s ankles. Yet amid all the squealing and giggling, barking and meowing, she smiled serenely, which only made her more beautiful to Lamont.

Woman like that should’ve had half a dozen kids, Lamont thought. Funny, but until that moment, he’d never wondered why she and Ernest quit after just one. Adam had been a handful, to be sure, but if Nadine could control this mob at the age of fifty-one, surely she could have handled two or three young’uns while she was in her twenties.

She looked up just then, and as their gazes locked, Nadine smiled and waved with the only appendage left: her pinky. Immediately, his heart started knocking against his ribs. What was it about her that could set his pulse to pounding and his palms to sweating? Not even his wife had been able to do that, and he’d loved Rose with all his heart.

Nadine’s granddaughter darted up to Lamont and grabbed his hand. “Will you push me on the swing, Mr. London?” Without waiting for an answer, the four-year-old led him toward Nadine’s wraparound back porch. “Grandmom’s swing is too big. I can’t get it going all by myself.”

As if in a daze, Lamont followed the tiny blonde, then lifted her onto the wide, slatted seat.

“Do you like my new dress?” she asked, smoothing her frilly pink skirt.

“You’re purty as a baby duck,” he drawled, winking.

Amy gave him a sidelong glance. “Are baby ducks pretty?”

“All babies are beautiful.”

As she considered his response, the breeze lifted blond bangs from her forehead, exposing a smattering of tiny freckles. Strange, but she looked more like Nadine than Adam or Julie.

“Do you think Grandmom is pretty?”

“Just between you and me,” he said, looking to see if the coast was clear, “I think she’s one of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.”

“Flattery will get you anywhere.”

He’d recognize that voice in a crowd at New York’s Penn Station. Straightening, he turned, hoping she’d blame the heat in his cheeks on the warm afternoon sunshine. “Nadine, how long have you been standing there?”

Hooking thumbs into her belt loops, she bobbled her head. “Exactly long enough.” Then, to Amy, “I’m gonna cut the cake soon, sweetie. Better wash your hands!”

In the blink of an eye, the child was halfway across the yard. “Don’t worry, Grandmom,” she hollered over her shoulder, “I won’t slam the door on the way inside.”

“Good girl!” Nadine called back. She cast a glance at Lamont. “She’s a pistol, that granddaughter of mine.”

“It’s in the DNA, I reckon,” he said, chuckling as the back door banged shut. “Time to cut the cake, you say?”

Nodding, she began walking toward the paper-covered folding table that held an assortment of desserts. “How long did you know about this shindig?”

“Since yesterday afternoon, when Adam called to invite me.”

“That’s what everyone has been saying. He pulled this thing together awfully fast.”

“I got the impression it was Julie who did most of the organizing. And it’s high time you learned to let people do nice things for you once in a while.”

He’d learned decades ago that Nadine didn’t accept compliments well, that she preferred giving to taking.

“This is Adam’s home. Julie and Amy’s, too. I’m thrilled to have them here, even if it is only temporary.”

“Is it?”

Her brow furrowed as she hung her head and sighed heavily. “I hope so. They have some serious money troubles, but…” She bit her lower lip. “Grace Mevers says I should open the presents, but I’d rather not.”

Lamont chose not to press her for more details. Her kids’ financial situation was none of his business, after all. “Because you want to open them after the cake and ice cream?”

“I don’t want to open them at all, because what about those folks who couldn’t afford to bring a gift? This was so last-minute. And everybody’s lives are so busy. Surely some people didn’t have time to bring a gift.” She exhaled a sigh. “I’d hate for anyone to feel uncomfortable.”

Lamont chuckled and, draping an arm over her shoulders, fell into step beside her. “Nadine Greene,” he said, kissing her temple, “you know what your biggest problem is?”

“I don’t like birthday parties?”

“Nope.”

She looked up at him, a half grin on her face as one brow rose with teasing suspicion. “What?”

“Your heart is bigger than your head, that’s what. And I love that about you.”

He felt her stiffen against him when he said that, and for a reason he couldn’t explain, it cut him to the quick. “Just so you’ll know, I intend to be the last guest to leave.”

“Oh?”

He loved the way she moved her delicate hands and batted those thick eyelashes. Fact was, he loved a lot of things about her—things he hadn’t really noticed until lately. “Because,” he said, “I have something for you. It’s in the truck.”

A little gasp passed her lips as her eyes widened. “Lamont, you didn’t have to—”

“I know. I wanted to.”

She glanced at her watch, and he could almost read her mind: In an hour, maybe two, the party would be over and she’d be faced with Lamont and his gift. Alone.

Would that really be so terrible?

Her friend, Grace, stood grinning alongside the rest of the partygoers, ready to strike a big kitchen match. “Don’t light all those candles,” Nadine warned. “They’ll see the smoke all the way in town and send the fire department!”

Time dragged for the rest of the afternoon, and he wondered how she’d behave when her guests had all gone home. Would she treat him with welcoming warmth, as she had the night when they walked hand in hand around her yard, or with aloofness, as she had on the phone the night after?

Lamont shook his head and focused on the friends and neighbors who’d gathered around her. They pressed close, singing a loud, off-key rendition of the birthday song.

Everyone but Lamont.

There she stood, glowing brighter than the candles on her cake, blue eyes wide and smile sparkling, looking more gorgeous than any woman had a right to. And here he stood, admitting, finally, that he wanted to be more than her friend and neighbor.

A whole lot more.