Right Next Door (3 page)

Robin would've liked to ask her new friend more about Cole, but his name didn't come up again, and she didn't want to seem too curious about him.

After Heather left, Robin braced herself for the talk with Jeff about getting a dog. Unfortunately, it didn't go well. It seemed that after waiting nearly ten years, a few more months was completely unacceptable.

“You promised!” he shouted. “You said I could have a dog when we moved into the house!”

“You can, sweetheart, but not right away.”

Unusual for Jeff, tears gathered in his eyes, and he struggled to hold them back. Soon Robin felt moisture filling her own eyes. She hated disappointing Jeff more
than anything. His heart was set on getting a dog right away, and he considered the offer of a cat a poor substitute.

He left the house soon afterward. In an effort to soothe his hurt feelings, Robin cooked her son's favorite meal—macaroni and cheese with sliced sausage and lots of ketchup.

She didn't see him on the pavement or the street when she went to check half an hour later. She stood on the porch, wondering where he'd gone. His bike was inside the garage, and he'd already aired his views about playing with any of the girls in the neighborhood.

It would be just like him to storm into his room in a fit of indignation and promptly fall asleep. Robin hurried upstairs to his bedroom, which was across the hall from her own.

His bed was made and his clothes hung neatly in the closet. Robin decided that in another day or two, everything would be back to normal.

It wasn't until she turned to leave that she saw the note on his desk. Picking it up, Robin read the first line and felt a swirling sense of panic.

F
or a moment, Robin was too stunned to react. Her heart was pounding so hard it echoed in her ears like thunder, so loud it seemed to knock her off balance.

Rushing down the stairs, she stood on the porch, cupped her hands over her mouth and screamed frantically. “Jeff! Jeffy!”

Cole Camden was standing on his front porch, too. He released a shrill whistle and stood waiting expectantly. When nothing happened, he called, “Blackie!”

“Jeff!” Robin tried again.

“Blackie!”

Robin called for Jeff once more, but her voice cracked as the panic engulfed her. She paused, placed her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure.

“Blackie!” Cole yelled. He looked furious about his dog's disappearance.

It took Robin only a moment to put two and two together. “Cole,” she cried, running across the lawn toward him. “I think Jeff and Blackie might have run away together.”

Cole looked at her as if she was deranged, and Robin couldn't blame him. “Jeff left me a note. He wants a dog so badly and we can't get one right now because…well, because we can't, and I had to tell him, and he was terribly disappointed and he decided to run away.”

Cole's mouth thinned. “The whole idea is ridiculous. Even if Jeff did run away, Blackie would never go with him.”

“Do you honestly think I'd make this up?” she shrieked. “The last time I saw Jeff was around four-thirty, and I'd bet cold cash that's about the same time Blackie disappeared.”

Cole's gaze narrowed. “Then where are they?”

“If I knew that, do you think I'd be standing around here arguing with you?”

“Listen, lady, I don't know your son, but I know my dog and—”

“My name's not lady,” Robin flared, clenching her hands at her sides. He was looking at her as though she were a madwoman on the loose—which she was where her son was concerned. “I'm sorry to have troubled you. When I find Jeff, I'll make sure your dog gets home.”

Cole's eyes shot sparks in her direction, but she ignored them. Turning abruptly, she ran back to her own house. Halfway there, she stopped dead and whirled around to face Cole again. “The fort.”

“What fort?” Cole demanded.

“The one that's in the back of your yard. It's covered with brush…. Jeff found it earlier today. He wouldn't know anywhere else to go and that would be the perfect hiding place.”

“No one's been there in years,” Cole said, discounting her suggestion.

“The least we can do is look.”

Cole's nod was reluctant. He led the way to his backyard, which was much larger than hers. There was a small grove of oak trees at the rear of the property and beyond that a high fence. Apparently the fort was situated between the trees and the fence. A few minutes later, in the most remote corner of the yard, nestled between two trees, Robin saw the small wooden structure. It blended into the terrain, and if she hadn't been looking for the hideaway, she would never have seen it.

It was obvious when they neared the space that someone had taken up residence. Cole lowered himself down to all fours, peered inside, then looked back at Robin with a nod. He breathed in sharply, apparently irritated by this turn of events, and crawled through the narrow entrance.

Not about to be left standing by herself, Robin got down on her knees and followed him in.

Just as she'd suspected, Jeff and Blackie were huddled together in a corner. Jeff was fast asleep and Blackie was curled up by his side, guarding him. When Cole and Robin entered, the Labrador lifted his head and wagged his tail in greeting.

The fort wasn't much bigger than the tent Jeff had constructed the night before, and Robin was forced to pull her knees close and loop her arms around them. Cole's larger body seemed to fill every available bit of space.

Jeff must have sensed that his newfound home had been invaded because his eyes fluttered open and he gazed at Robin, then turned his head to stare at Cole.

“Hi, Mom,” he said sheepishly. “I bet I'm in trouble, aren't I?”

Robin was so grateful to find him that all she could do was nod. If she'd tried to speak, her voice would've been shaking with emotion, which would only have embarrassed them both.

“So, Jeff,” Cole said sternly. “You were going to run away from home. I see you brought everything you needed.” He pushed the frying pan and atlas into the middle of their cramped quarters. “What I want to know is how you convinced Blackie to join you.”

“He came on his own,” Jeff murmured, but his eyes avoided Cole's. “I wouldn't have taken him on purpose—he's your dog.”

“I'm glad you didn't…coerce him.”

“All you took was a frying pan and an atlas!” Robin cried, staring at the cast-iron skillet and the atlas with its dog-eared pages.

Cole and Jeff both ignored her outburst.

“I take it you don't like living here?” Cole asked.

Jeff stiffened, then shook his head vigorously. “Mom told me that when we moved I could have a dog and now I can't. And…and she dragged me into a neighborhood filled with girls. That might've been okay if I had a dog, but then she broke her promise. A promise is a promise and it's sacred. A guy would never do that.”

“So you can't have a dog until later?”

“All because of a stupid fence.”

Cole nodded. “Fences are important, you know. And you know what else? Your mom was worried about you.”

Jeff looked at Robin, who was blinking furiously to keep the tears from dripping down her face. The upheaval and stress of the move had drained her emotionally and she was an unmitigated mess. Normally, she was a calm, con
trolled person, but this whole drama with Jeff was her undoing. That and the fact she'd hardly slept the night before in his makeshift tent.

“Mom,” Jeff said, studying her anxiously, “are you all right?”

She covered her face with both hands. “I slept with a dog and you ran away and all you took was a frying pan and an atlas.” That made no sense whatsoever, but she couldn't help it, and once the tears started they wouldn't stop.

“I'm sorry, Mom,” Jeff said softly. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

“I know,” she whimpered. “I want you to have a dog, I really do, but we can't keep one locked up in the house all day and we don't have a fence and…and the way you just looked at me, I swear it was Lenny all over again.”

“Who's Lenny?” Cole cocked his head toward Jeff, speaking in a whisper.

“Lenny was my dad. He died when I was real little. I don't even remember him.”

Cole shared a knowing look with her son. “It might be a good idea if we got your mother back inside the house.”

“You think I'm getting hysterical, don't you?” Robin burst out. “I want you both to know I'm in perfect control. A woman can cry every now and then if she wants. Venting your emotions is healthy—all the books say so.”

“Right, Mom.” Jeff gently patted her shoulder, then crawled out of the fort. He waited for Robin, who emerged after him, and offered her a hand. Cole and Blackie followed.

Jeff took Robin's arm, holding her elbow as he led her to the back door of their house, as if he suspected she couldn't find her way without his guidance.

Once inside, Robin grabbed a tissue and loudly blew her nose. Her composure was shaky, but when she turned to Cole, she intended to be as reasonable as a judge. As polite as a preacher.

“Have you got any aspirin?” Cole asked Jeff.

Jeff nodded, and dashed up the stairs to the bathroom, returning in thirty seconds flat with the bottle. Cole filled a glass with water and delivered both to Robin. How he knew she had a fierce headache she could only guess.

“Why don't you lie down for a few minutes? I'm sure you'll feel better.”

“I feel just fine, thank you,” she snapped, more angry with herself for overreacting than with him for taking charge.

“Do you have family close by?” Again Cole directed the question to Jeff, which served to further infuriate Robin. Jeff was ten years old! She, on the other hand, was an adult. If this man had questions they should be directed to her, not her son.

“Not anymore,” Jeff answered in an anxious whisper. “Grandma and Grandpa moved to Arizona last year, and my uncle lives in LA.”

“I don't need to lie down,” Robin said forcefully. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“Mom,” Jeff countered, his voice troubled, “you don't look so good.”

“You were talking about frying pans and sleeping with dogs in the same breath,” Cole elaborated, his eyebrows raised.

“I think Mr. Camden's right,” Jeff said. “You need rest—lots of rest.”

Her own son had turned traitor on her. Robin was shocked. Jeff took her hand and led her into the family
room, which was off the kitchen. He patted the quilted pillow on the sofa, wordlessly suggesting she place her head there. When she resisted, he pulled the afghan from the chair and draped it around her, tucking the ends behind her shoulders.

Robin couldn't believe she was allowing herself to be led around like a…like a puppy. As if reading her thoughts, Blackie wandered over to her side and lowered his bulk onto the carpet beside the sofa.

“That's a neat fort you've got there,” Jeff told Cole once he'd finished tucking in the blanket. Robin watched him hurry back to the kitchen, grab a plate, then load it with macaroni and cheese and hand it to Cole, apparently wanting to share his favorite meal with their neighbor.

Cole set the plate on the counter. “Thanks anyway, Jeff, but I've got to get back to the house. In the future, if you're thinking about running away—don't.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” Jeff said with a mildly guilty look. “My mom turned into a basket case.”

Cole smiled—at least, it was as close to a smile as Robin had seen. “You're both going to be fine. She intends to get you that dog, you know. Just hang on. It'll be sooner than you think.”

Jeff walked to the sliding glass door with Cole. “Mr. Camden, can I ask you something important?”

“Sure.”

“Is anyone using the fort?”

“Not that I know of.”

Jeff's expression was hopeful. “It didn't look like anyone had been inside for a long time.”

“Six years,” Cole murmured absently.

“That long? How come?” Jeff asked. “It's a
great
fort.
If it's all right with you I'd like to go over there sometimes. I promise not to walk in any flowerbeds or anything, and I won't leave a mess. I'll take real good care of everything.”

Cole hesitated for a moment. He looked at Jeff, and Robin held her breath. Then he shook his head. “Maybe sometime in the future, but not now.”

Jeff's deep blue eyes brightened; apparently the refusal didn't trouble him. “Okay. When I can use the fort, would it be all right if I took Blackie with me? He followed me today, you know. I didn't have to do anything to get him to tag along.” Jeff paused and lowered his eyes. “Well, hardly anything.”

“I thought as much. As your mom said, you have a way with animals.”

“My dad did, too. If he hadn't died he would've gotten me a pony and everything.”

There was such pride in Jeff's voice that Robin bit her bottom lip to keep from crying all over again. Jeff and Lenny were so much alike. What she'd told her son earlier was true. More and more, Jeff was starting to take on his father's looks and personality.

Cole gazed down at Jeff, and an emotion flashed in his eyes, so transient Robin couldn't recognize it. He laid his hand on Jeff's shoulder. “Since your mother explained there's going to be a delay in getting you a dog, it'd be okay with me if you borrowed Blackie every now and then. You have to stay in your own yard, though. I don't want him running in the neighborhood unless he's on a leash.”

“Do you mean it? Thanks, Mr. Camden! I'll do everything you ask.”

Robin had the feeling Jeff would've agreed to just about any terms as long as he could see Blackie. It wasn't a dog of his own, but it was as close as he was going to get for the next few months.

Once Cole had left, Jeff joined her on the sofa, his hands folded on his lap. “I'm sorry, Mom,” he muttered, his chin buried in his chest. “I promise I'll never run away again.”

“I should hope not,” she said. Wrapping her arms around him, she hugged him close, kissing his cheek.

“Gee whiz,” Jeff grumbled, rubbing his face. “I'd never have apologized if I'd known you were going to kiss me.”

 

A week passed. Jeff liked his new school and, as Robin had predicted, found his class contained an equal number of boys and girls. With his outgoing personality, he quickly collected new friends.