and Lynda’s driveway, she scrambled from the car and opened the back door to extricate the carrier. A noise startled her. Banging her head when she stood and turned at the same time, Summer scowled and rubbed her skull.
There was no movement anywhere on the street, which was odd. Because she definitely heard a distinctive sound—like the shutter of a 35mm camera.
Weighed down by bags and baby gear, she huffed and puffed from the car to the fenced entryway leading to the rear of the house. Squeezing through the gate took effort, but she managed not to drop the baby or a single bag.
In the small vestibule leading to the Gerry’s side door and her front door, Summer and set the baby carrier down so she could fish the apartment key from her pocket.
“Look, sweetie. Remember when we decorated our door? Mr. Snowman looks so happy to see you!”
Using black construction paper and masking tape, she cut different sizes of snowman circles—enough for eyes, a smiling mouth, and buttons. She had enough of the craft paper to also fashion a top hat. Without a piece of orange construction paper for the pointy nose, she put her creativity to use and cut the nose from a piece of copy paper she colored with an orange highlighter. A shiny red plaid wired ribbon provided a nicely accented scarf.
If the whole project cost more than two dollars, she’d be amazed. Her next creative endeavor was going to be Valentine’s decorations. She looked forward to the years ahead when she and Ari could make things together.
Inside the apartment, she quickly put away the groceries and scooped Ari out of her seat. This was the best part of the day whenever she had to work or was apart from her baby for any length of time.
Kicking off her waitress sneakers, she sat on the sofa and cradled her daughter. Ari smiled, and all was right in the world.
The sound of a kerfuffle in the backyard drew her attention to the large window overlooking the pool and patio. She spied Bud scurrying back and forth, waving his arms and swearing loudly.
“Doesn’t sound good,” she softly murmured to Ari.
Placing the baby in a cradle swing, she strapped her in safely and set the rocking motion to slow. Ari was immediately mesmerized by the mobile of pastel-colored animals.
Summer opened the back door and stepped out. Bud was using his phone to video something, and he was also cussing like a longshoreman.
“I see you, ya little fucker! Whatcha lookin’ at, huh? Who’re ya spying on? There’s an ordinance against this shit. You just wait. Blow your fucking techno ass right outta the sky.”
Whoa. Bud was lit.
She glanced up and searched the sky. “What’s going on?”
Bud lowered his phone and grumbled out an explanation. “Some fucker is sending a drone up. Every damn day. Sometimes more than once. Check this out.”
She peered at his phone wide-eyed. Holy crap. He was right. It was hard to see at first until the video zoomed in, and then, yep, there it was. Plain as day.
“I thought maybe it was a construction drone or one of the fancy camera drones used by realtors. The new houses a couple of streets over seemed likely culprits, but when I chatted up the foreman, he told me they already took aerial photos, so it wasn’t them.”
“Kids? Maybe it was a Christmas present.”
“Maybe,” Bud grumped. “But whoever or whatever—there are ordinances, and ya can’t be flying shit like it’s a surveillance camera.”
Surveillance? She squinted at the sky. Well, damn. She didn’t like the sound of that. She and Ari spent a lot of time in the walled-off outdoor sanctuary. The space was like a second larger outdoor living room.
The baby let out a lonely squawk. Summer started for the door and turned at the last second to see Bud’s thumbs moving with furious speed as he composed what looked like a serious text.
“What’s happening, sweetie? Did you miss Mommy?” Lifting Ari from the swing and onto her shoulder, she cuddled her close.
A single knock was the only warning before the apartment door flew open, and Lynda marched in.
“Sorry to barge in,” she exclaimed in a harried voice. “It’s an ice cream emergency.”
Lynda yanked open Summer’s freezer and grabbed the container of contraband Häagen Dasz. Before she could stop her, a spoon loaded with the guilty pleasure was in her friend’s mouth. As if on cue, the backyard door opened, and Bud strolled in.