Gemotions

Brenda almost choked on her iced coffee. She’d been casually observing Mr. Henderson, the quiet, almost invisible man next door, through her kitchen window. He was… unloading a vintage Rolls Royce from a shipping container. A *Rolls Royce*. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling a quick flutter. She’d always assumed he was a retired accountant or something, based on his sensible shoes and the way he meticulously watered his petunias. Now, this. Her lips twitched.

She grabbed her phone and texted Sarah, “You are NOT going to believe this.” Then, leaning against the counter, she watched as Mr. Henderson, in his decidedly un-wealthy-looking khakis, directed the movers with a gentle, almost apologetic wave. The absurdity of the situation sent a warm feeling spreading through her.

Brenda decided she needed to make a cake. A particularly elaborate one, just to celebrate. And maybe a quick trip to the thrift store – she’d always wanted a fancy scarf.