Better Than People - Roan Parrish Page 0,11

definitely more smoke coming from the chimney of the house over the hill. Jack was keeping a list of when he saw the first tendrils and when they stopped because maybe if he could figure out the schedule he could figure out why this change had occurred. Was it a change, though? Or had he simply never noticed before? He couldn’t be quite sure.

What he needed was some sort of periscope so that he could see more than just the roof and the chimney. Maybe if he got a ladder...?

No. No, that was a terrible idea.

Do you know who lives in the place over the hill from me? Jack texted Charlie.

Nope, Charlie replied. Did you google it?

Jack rolled his eyes. Charlie thought it was hilarious to suggest googling everything, even un-googleable things, as if he were eighty years old and it was a revelation. Or had Charlie genuinely meant to suggest it because he’d thought Jack hadn’t known? It was always so hard to tell with Charlie.

Then Jack realized he actually could google it because real estate sales were public records. But he didn’t know the address and it turned out that Google Maps hadn’t taken much care to capture the fringes of Garnet Run.

He typed, Could you drive over there and see who lives there??? and deleted it. He typed, Can we take a quick drive by it? and made himself delete that too. Finally he wrote, If you happen to drive past and see anything strange will you tell me?

Charlie didn’t answer. Probably busy at work.

He thought about texting his best friend, Vanessa. She did impulsive things all the time and might not question him wanting her to surveil a stranger to slake his burning curiosity. But he hadn’t responded to her last few texts or picked up the phone the last couple times she’d called and he didn’t want to deal with having a conversation about why. Hell, he hardly knew himself.

* * *

“Thanks,” Jack said as Charlie put the last of the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Course,” Charlie said and began putting the groceries away.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jack said.

“It’s no problem,” Charlie said automatically.

“Charlie, I can do it.”

To prove the point, Jack shoved himself upright and grabbed for his crutches. He leaned one against the counter and tried to open the cabinet door above the refrigerator but the movement jarred his ribs and he hissed, recoiling. His recoil sent the crutch sliding to the floor and Jack panting.

Charlie sighed and picked up the crutch.

“Sit down before you break your other leg,” he said wearily. His jaw tightened and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

Jack sighed. “Sorry, I just...”

Hate being helpless. Hate being a burden. Again.

Charlie waved him off and put the groceries away. He rolled his shoulders when he was through.

“So what’s your fascination with the neighbors?”

“No fascination,” Jack lied.

Charlie peered at him.

“You having a Rear Window moment or what?”

Jack always got a kick out of Charlie’s Hitchcock obsession. Those who didn’t know him well thought it was out of character, but the meticulous planning and the patience of a long game suited Charlie perfectly. At this particular moment, however, Jack glared.

“No.” Jack had shot for a casual tone, but Charlie kept looking at him. Jack didn’t do casual well. “Just curious.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow and Jack followed his gaze to the binoculars sitting on the coffee table.

“You want me to—”

“No, it’s fine,” Jack interrupted. It came out sharper than he’d intended. He wasn’t sure why he was embarrassed that Charlie knew what his boredom had driven him to.

“Guess I’ll take off, then.”

Jack nodded.

“Unless you want me to hang out? Watch a movie or something?”

Sometimes Jack couldn’t tell if Charlie made offers like this out of genuine desire for his company, out of obligation, or out of habit. Jack wasn’t sure Charlie knew himself.

They got along well, enjoyed each other’s company, but there was always something between them that only time would clear away. Or it wouldn’t.

Charlie still saw Jack as the thirteen-year-old kid he’d gotten saddled with at seventeen when their parents’ deaths had changed everything, and Jack still saw Charlie as the fierce authority figure who’d cared for him at the expense of his own desires. Not that Charlie would ever admit it. That, too, Jack wasn’t sure Charlie knew.

Jack was desperate for the distraction Charlie offered. He’d only been couch-and bed-bound for three days and he was already climbing the walls. But he’d probably snapped at Charlie enough