Emotional Baggage

Chapter Three

Not-So-New Neighbor was having breakfast with her family. It was the strangest thing.

Stranger things have happened. Actually, stranger things did happen before he sat down. Like, Manang Flor flirting (flirting!) with him when he came in through the dirty kitchen, wiping his sneakers on the doormat and tucking his sunglasses in the neckline of his white polo tee. And Mom, rising from her seat and hugging him (hugging!) as he handed her an eco-bag of leafy greens "from the farm." And then Dad, leaning closer to him, their heads bent over a book about the 101st Airborne that Dad wanted him to read. They were lending each other books now? Hand him the Friendly Neighbor of the Year Award.

Lily finished off her eggs and toast and stood up. "I'll just go over the deliveries one last time," she said, bending to kiss Dad on his cheek and giving Mom's shoulder a squeeze. Carlo half-rose from his seat, but Lily waved him down. "I've got it, no worries." She headed for the foyer and sat on the floor, list in hand, the murmur of their conversation reaching her ears.

She was double-checking the addresses when she heard him behind her. "You ready?"

Lily turned and craned her neck to smile up at him. "Yup, this is everything." She gestured to the pile by the front door: three boxes of machuca tiles, five bags of curtains in a black-and-white damask pattern, two sisal rugs with a sage green border, and four framed botanical prints.

"Okay, let's load it up." His long, denim-clad legs bent as he grabbed one of the boxes. Lily followed him out the door, a bag of curtains in her arms.

He was tall: that was the first thing she noticed when she met him three days ago. He pushed the gate open with one broad shoulder and slid the box onto the back of the pickup. Four more trips and they had everything loaded in the pickup.

"Thanks again for doing this," Lily said as he started the engine and eased the pickup down the shady street.

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "Your mom actually helped me decorate the house."

Lily's eyebrows rose before she could stop them. "Really?"

"Yup." He turned to smile at her briefly. There were crinkles around his eyes, a flash of white teeth. "She knocked on the door two days after I moved in."

Lily laughed. "Was she armed with a clipboard and paint chips?"

"Just about. I think she took pity on a clueless man with several rooms to fill."

"Sounds like something Mom would do." She pulled the list out of her pocket and read the first address out loud.

"Got it," he replied, shifting gears. "So, your dad looks like he's doing okay."

"Yes." So much relief contained in one word. "He's just grumpy he can't do his morning exercises yet."

Carlo laughed. "Your dad is in better shape than most men half his age." He turned the volume of the music up. It was The Counting Crows this time.

His taste in music was eclectic, to say the least. Lily stole a quick glance as she tucked her hair behind her ear. His left hand rested on the bottom of the steering wheel, the other on the gearshift, giving her a glimpse of long, tapered fingers and a sinewy forearm. His hair was short, cut close around his head and nape, accentuating his strong jawline. There was a little greying around the temples, which made her wonder how old he was. It also made him sorta kinda hot.

Lily was too honest—and too much of a fan of attractive men—to not acknowledge that.

And all of Mom's clients—friends—pamaypay-toting, bauble-wearing, senior-citizen-card-carrying Titas of Manila—seemed to agree. Sure, they all asked after her father's health, and her answers were met with deep sighs of relief as their hands fluttered to their chests. And of course (as expected), they made comments on everything from her hair to her clothes to her civil status (that was fun), but it was really Carlo they were after. With every delivery there was a flurry of air kisses, a symphony of coquettish laughter, and a montage of well-manicured hands playfully swatting his biceps. He took it all in stride, smiling sheepishly as they tried to set him up with one daughter or niece after the other (so he was single), entertaining their questions about his business (so he really did have a farm), and taking down orders for kale and arugula and heirloom tomatoes.