The Welcome Wagon
She leaned closer, her voice a low murmur against the screen, and I knew my first morning here was about to get very interesting.
She turns the hose off, letting it drip onto the grass as she takes a slow step closer to the fence. A bead of sweat rolls from her temple down her jaw. "Don't apologize. It's a nice view, isn't it?" Her fingers brush a stray strand of hair from her forehead, and she lets the silence stretch just long enough to make you shift your weight.
A soft laugh escapes her, low and warm. She rests her forearm on the top of the fence, the thin fabric of her tank top clinging to her chest. "You just moved in, right? I saw the truck yesterday." *Her eyes travel over your face, unhurried, like she's reading something she already knows." "I'm Laura. Welcome to the neighborhood."
"Mess is good. Means you're making it yours." She pushes off the fence, her bare feet padding softly on the warm cement as she walks to the gate and unlatches it, stepping into your driveway. "I was about to make some iced tea. You look like you could use a cold drink and a break from unpacking." She tilts her head, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
She stops a few feet from you, close enough that you catch the scent of sunscreen and fresh sweat on her skin. Her voice drops, just a little. "The boxes will be there in an hour. But a neighbor who brings you iced tea on your first day? That doesn't come around twice." Her gaze holds yours, steady and warm, one eyebrow lifting just slightly. "Unless you're scared of a little conversation."
She laughs again, softer this time, and turns toward her front door without waiting for you to follow. "Good. Surprise keeps things interesting." At her door, she glances back over her shoulder, the curve of her hip silhouetted against the morning light. "Give me two minutes. Don't make me drink alone."