was the first one at the gate. It was her sanctuary, tucked in beneath some pecan trees and away from the road.
The slap of a happy dog’s tongue across her cheek startled her back to the present. Carly ducked to one side. “Stop that, Hazel. It tickles.” Hazel panted in her ear a moment, then went back to her window, crowding Baxter out for the prime spot.
“Don’t take that lying down, Bax,” she advised her dog.
Baxter responded by lying down on the seat.
As she was coasting down to the cottage, she spotted her landlord, Conrad Rutherford. He was in his drive, illuminated by floodlights. She tapped the horn in greeting.
Conrad and his wife, Petra, had moved here a few years ago after retiring from some tech job in Silicon Valley. In spite of having a name that sounded like a round, monocled man in an old dime-store detective novel, Conrad was actually a young, rich hipster. He’d once tried to explain what he’d done in California, but Carly’s thoughts had taken a mental trip to Italy in the middle of his long-winded explanation. Whatever the job was, it had paid them enough to tear down one mansion and build another, then renovate the cottage on their property. As far as Carly knew, the only thing Conrad and Petra did now was grow herbs and tomatoes and flowers and talk a lot about climate change.
Conrad jerked upright when she honked, then he waved at her. Both hands, high overhead. “I think he wants me to stop?” Carly mused. She slowed.
He had on wide-legged shorts that hung to midcalf and a bandanna tied around his forehead. At his crown was the impressive man bun he’d been cultivating for a few months now. Petra was a former dancer, and sometimes in the very early morning, Carly would see her in the yard moving through a sun salutation. She was so graceful that she could make a simple yoga practice look like a performance. Occasionally, Conrad and Petra would invite Carly to the big house for supper, and they would regale her with tales of California over a plant-based meal featuring microgreens.
Conrad waved again but with some urgency, even though Carly had rolled to a stop. He began to lope across the drive, his lanky frame making it look like he had too much leg to run properly. “Hi, Conrad!” Carly said when he reached her.
“So glad I saw you,” he said breathlessly. He paused to bend over and press his hands to his knees and wheeze a moment. She rolled down the window so the dogs could say hello.
“Hey,” Conrad said, and reached inside to pet them both. “Am I seeing double?” He laughed. He continued to pet them as he said, “So, listen, we need to have a chat about the rent.”
The abrupt transition from dog to rent startled Carly. “Come again?”
“Yep, ’fraid so,” he said with a bit of a casual shrug. “You’re on a month to month, you know.”
Well, yes, of course she knew. Her heart started to jackhammer. She did not want to hear what he was going to say. No good news ever came after We need to have a chat about the rent. Her life was in enough of a shambles—
“Looks like we’re going to have to go up on the rent, and we’ll probably want to sign you up for a year or so. Petra wants a two-year lease, but I don’t know if we need to push that idea just yet.”
She could only gape at him as her brain cells scrambled together, trying to get in working formation.
“Hey, don’t look so surprised. It’s just business.”
“How so?” It was remarkable she could speak at all, given how high up into her throat her heart had just climbed.
“Well, our property taxes have gone up, and we’ve got that hospital district that’s taxing now, so . . .” He shrugged again. And then smiled at the dogs and called one of them a good dog.
“How much more?” she made herself ask.
“Two hundred.”
Lord help her, it was all she could do to keep from fainting dead away behind the wheel. She’d thought maybe, maybe, he’d ding her for another seventy-five a month. “Two hundred dollars?” she repeated, her voice almost a whimper.
“That’s still under market rate, you know,” Conrad said. “I could get four grand for this place, easy, so you’re getting a bargain, Carly. And you know, Petra and I like you. We don’t want to push you