Read Online Don't Make Me Beautiful by Elle Casey - Free Book Online

  She sees everything that happens on this street.   “Just for a few days.   He’ll be back on Wednesday.”   Brian keeps walking, although slower.   If he stops, he’ll be stuck there for an hour and probably end up in her kitchen having an iced tea.   She’s the nicest, most talkative neighbor he’s ever had.   He doesn’t usually mind it; in fact, he’s happy to indulge in a neighborly chat now and again - it’s why he moved to this area - but today, he’s on a mission and he doesn’t have time for gossip or an hour-long discussion about the upcoming weather and whether Mrs. Grandston down the street will ever start recycling.
    “Tell him to stop by and see me when he gets home,” she says, poking her clippers vaguely in Brian’s direction.   “I bought some new cookies at the store, and I think he’s going to like them.   He’s my official cookie taster.”
    “I’ll tell him.   He’ll be really happy to hear that.”
    She waves with a gloved hand as he reaches the far side of her property line, and he waves back.
    Maybe I should ask Agnes about the guy around the corner.   Brian’s not sure that Agnes knows anything beyond the business of those living on Lodi Street.   She stays pretty close to home, taking care of her husband who’s slowly going downhill with dementia.   Brian’s not looking forward to the day she’ll have to put him in a nursing home.   He has a feeling it will take the spark from her, and she’s fun just the way she is, even if she is a little nosy.
    He rounds the corner and the house comes into view.   As he gets closer, he sees that the window is still broken, but now there’s a piece of cardboard taped over it.   The house is still, with no sign that anyone’s home.   The large black truck that was in the driveway last night isn’t there.   Maybe it’s in the garage.
    Brian walks up to the porch, taking the steps slowly as he looks around.   He’s not sure what he’s searching for, but everything seems to be in order.
    “What the hell am I doing here?” he whispers to himself.   What am I going to say if that guy comes to the door again?   I’ll ask him for the bill, that’s it.   Tell him I want to pay right away.   Be a good neighbor .   Brian shakes his head at his ridiculous thoughts.   He already told the guy to leave the bill in his mailbox.   Showing up again and ringing the bell when the sign on it says not to feels almost like harassment.   He looks at the sign again, reading the heavy scrawl.
    DO NOT RING BELL.   DO NOT KNOCK.   WE DON’T TAKE VISITORS.
    Brian frowns.   He can’t get past the feeling that it’s just a weird thing to do, to put a sign up like that warning people away.   It’s like something he would have done as a kid on a clubhouse to keep other kids from discovering his secret hiding place.   It’s so ridiculous it almost begs people to discover whatever it is he’s keeping inside.
    Brian laughs nervously at himself.   Don’t be stupid.   You’re a grown man and so is he.   This is his home.   If you trespass he can shoot your stupid ass.
    Brian steps back away from the door, prepared to leave and never come back.   But then the sound of his son’s voice and the vision of him standing on their own front porch the night before comes back to him.   “She’s not sick, Dad.   She’s just really ugly.”
    Brian doesn’t want to see a really ugly woman.   That’s not what’s motivating him to stand here on this porch and risk pissing off this neighbor.   It’s just that … he’s a math guy.   Brian has always been strong with numbers, from the time he was Liam’s age.   He uses math every day with his work at restoring furniture, both in the actual hands-on stuff and the figuring he has to do later when he does his billing.   Everything always has to add up in his world, and this situation with the monster lady?   It isn’t adding up.
    Brian glances over at the cardboard covering