Too Tall, Too Dark, Too Handsome? chap 2
Chapter 2
Shea knelt on the green grass before her small garden, nothing like pulling weeds to take all of her anger and get her mind off losing a friend. The bright colors of the flowers she'd planted did little to cheer her, however. What had transpired the day before had kept her awake all night long, and still replayed in her memory as a horror film.
The sounds of the morning floated on the slight breeze, tickling her senses yet doing little to awaken the part of her spirit that'd been dead along with her last chance for love. Bitterness still flowed through her veins cold and thick. Why couldn't she pull herself out of this pit, nor could she see outside of it. Yesterday, Sherry had only kicked more dirt in on top of her.
Looking back down at the flowers, Shea shook her head, as a truck pulled up at the empty house next door. Apparently, the house that'd stood empty since Mrs.Johanssen had been transferred to the nursing home, was about to be occupied. Really, she could care less who moved in next door. Shea prided herself on not getting too close emotionally to any one human being. No, it was just her and her cat. Jingle Bell, so named for her Christmas birth, was a tiny little scrap of fur with a large attitude. Yet, she was good company, and she was dependable.
Sighing, Shea began to sing. It'd been years since she had sang, her father had encouraged her to start the singing lessons at the age of three. After he'd hurt her, Shea lost her zest for singing. When he did finally leave her and her mother, she'd quit the lessons and singing all together. That was nearly ten years ago, and the first notes of a song came from her lips startling her voice box. The song was one she'd written, but never sung.
"Well, well, well, imagine running into you here."
The voice startled her, making her lose her balance and fall face first into her little garden. Blinking, she stared up at him from her place on the ground, "Do you ALWAYS have to do that?" With quite an effort, she straightened herself out and stood on her own, ignoring his offered hand.
"I didn't try. You scare so easily though." he smiled, and her knees wobbled. He was the most incredible looking man she'd ever seen. That was for sure.
"I know, mostly because no one bothers with me. I'm what you'd call a hermit, Mr...." her voice stumbled as she realized she had no idea what his name was.
"Pharrell. Kent Pharrell." he offered, his smile widening.
"Nice name." she stuttered, tugging the last weed and tossing it in her garbage bag.
"My mother seems to think so," he winked and moved closer, "You ran off so quickly I never caught your name either."
"O'Shea McMalley." she bit off, standing and swiping at the dirt on her knees.
"Well, Ms. McMalley, I suppose now is a nice time to ask if I can assist my new neighbor in any way?"
--
Kentavious watched his new neighbor's face transform, no longer did she seem composed and slightly flirtacious. Her deep green eyes were now shuttered, and her teeth seemed clenched so tight he was waiting for one to fly out and slap him in the face. Something wasn't right about O'Shea McMalley. Aside from losing a friend, she seemed cut off from the world around her, and she had said she was a hermit. Well, he'd have to change that. Wouldn't he?
"New..New Neighbor?" she stuttered, grabbing up the garbage bag from the ground and twisting it in her hands nervously.
"Yes, that's my house over there." he replied, gesturing with his hand toward the house beside her's.
"Oh my..." she groaned, pushing her hair back from her face with a hand. "If you'll excuse me, I really should be getting back inside."
Kent watched O'Shea's retreating form and he sighed, "If I am always scaring you, you're always running away from me. How exactly am I going to get to know you any better, Miss McMalley?"
"Kentavious Josiah Pharrell!" his mother's shrill voice echoed around the neighborhood, and he hurried to get to her side.
"Here I am, Mom." he whispered, sliding his arm through her's.
"When I come to your house to help you unpack, I expect you to be here to let me in. Do you see this? A locked door." she muttered, tugging on the locked door knob.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I'll get it." with his free hand, he slipped the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Somehow he needed to learn to juggle the women in his life, because if not they'd soon kill him. And, he had the feeling that if they knew he was thinking like this, they'd kill him anyway.
With yet another sigh, he shook his head and whispered to himself Hold onto your head, Kent.
Shea knelt on the green grass before her small garden, nothing like pulling weeds to take all of her anger and get her mind off losing a friend. The bright colors of the flowers she'd planted did little to cheer her, however. What had transpired the day before had kept her awake all night long, and still replayed in her memory as a horror film.
The sounds of the morning floated on the slight breeze, tickling her senses yet doing little to awaken the part of her spirit that'd been dead along with her last chance for love. Bitterness still flowed through her veins cold and thick. Why couldn't she pull herself out of this pit, nor could she see outside of it. Yesterday, Sherry had only kicked more dirt in on top of her.
Looking back down at the flowers, Shea shook her head, as a truck pulled up at the empty house next door. Apparently, the house that'd stood empty since Mrs.Johanssen had been transferred to the nursing home, was about to be occupied. Really, she could care less who moved in next door. Shea prided herself on not getting too close emotionally to any one human being. No, it was just her and her cat. Jingle Bell, so named for her Christmas birth, was a tiny little scrap of fur with a large attitude. Yet, she was good company, and she was dependable.
Sighing, Shea began to sing. It'd been years since she had sang, her father had encouraged her to start the singing lessons at the age of three. After he'd hurt her, Shea lost her zest for singing. When he did finally leave her and her mother, she'd quit the lessons and singing all together. That was nearly ten years ago, and the first notes of a song came from her lips startling her voice box. The song was one she'd written, but never sung.
"Well, well, well, imagine running into you here."
The voice startled her, making her lose her balance and fall face first into her little garden. Blinking, she stared up at him from her place on the ground, "Do you ALWAYS have to do that?" With quite an effort, she straightened herself out and stood on her own, ignoring his offered hand.
"I didn't try. You scare so easily though." he smiled, and her knees wobbled. He was the most incredible looking man she'd ever seen. That was for sure.
"I know, mostly because no one bothers with me. I'm what you'd call a hermit, Mr...." her voice stumbled as she realized she had no idea what his name was.
"Pharrell. Kent Pharrell." he offered, his smile widening.
"Nice name." she stuttered, tugging the last weed and tossing it in her garbage bag.
"My mother seems to think so," he winked and moved closer, "You ran off so quickly I never caught your name either."
"O'Shea McMalley." she bit off, standing and swiping at the dirt on her knees.
"Well, Ms. McMalley, I suppose now is a nice time to ask if I can assist my new neighbor in any way?"
--
Kentavious watched his new neighbor's face transform, no longer did she seem composed and slightly flirtacious. Her deep green eyes were now shuttered, and her teeth seemed clenched so tight he was waiting for one to fly out and slap him in the face. Something wasn't right about O'Shea McMalley. Aside from losing a friend, she seemed cut off from the world around her, and she had said she was a hermit. Well, he'd have to change that. Wouldn't he?
"New..New Neighbor?" she stuttered, grabbing up the garbage bag from the ground and twisting it in her hands nervously.
"Yes, that's my house over there." he replied, gesturing with his hand toward the house beside her's.
"Oh my..." she groaned, pushing her hair back from her face with a hand. "If you'll excuse me, I really should be getting back inside."
Kent watched O'Shea's retreating form and he sighed, "If I am always scaring you, you're always running away from me. How exactly am I going to get to know you any better, Miss McMalley?"
"Kentavious Josiah Pharrell!" his mother's shrill voice echoed around the neighborhood, and he hurried to get to her side.
"Here I am, Mom." he whispered, sliding his arm through her's.
"When I come to your house to help you unpack, I expect you to be here to let me in. Do you see this? A locked door." she muttered, tugging on the locked door knob.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I'll get it." with his free hand, he slipped the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Somehow he needed to learn to juggle the women in his life, because if not they'd soon kill him. And, he had the feeling that if they knew he was thinking like this, they'd kill him anyway.
With yet another sigh, he shook his head and whispered to himself Hold onto your head, Kent.
posted by Jo*Marie at 3:14 PM
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