Chapter 4: Your Curtains

On Tuesday evening, I drove to Hollin Court with a garment box on the passenger seat.

Lacey had ordered new bedroom curtains from me a month ago, and I had finished them on Sunday.

It was a real delivery, and it gave me a reason to stand on her porch.

The house was a white two-story with black shutters.

Brent's truck sat in the driveway beside her car.

I parked at the curb and didn't turn off the engine yet.

Through the front window I could see the kitchen, lit gold.

Brent stood at the stove with a dish towel over his shoulder.

He was wearing the apron I had given him for the summer cookout.

Lacey stood beside him with a glass of wine.

She said something, and he laughed.

He hadn't laughed like that at our table in a year.

I took out my phone and pressed record.

Lacey set the glass down.

She took the dish towel off his shoulder and wiped his hands with it, one finger at a time.

Then she put her hand against his jaw.

Brent looked at the window, and I thought he had seen me.

He had only looked to check the blinds.

He bent his head and kissed her, long and slow.

Her hand went to the back of his neck.

His hand went to her waist.

It was not a first kiss.

I knew that from how neither of them hesitated.

I filmed for a full minute.

I held the phone steady, and my hands were calm.

I thought it was strange that my hands could be so calm.

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