Page 2 of Dad Next Door

“Thanks, Dad.” I smiled for real, relief washing over me and loosening the tension in my shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Like you said, just processing everything. I’m sure the shock will fade soon.”

“Okay. I have to get back to work.”

“Have a good rest of your day.”

Dad gave me a little wave and ended the call.

Tucking my phone in my pocket, I stepped back from the hot tub so I didn’t start fiddling with the straps again.

I needed to find some busy work to do. Something mindless to keep my body moving so my brain didn’t keep spiraling.

Unpacking was what got me into this state in the first place, so that was out. I’d already done everything I needed to do for work today, and I wasn’t in the mood to film. I could get a jump on tomorrow’s tasks, but sitting in my office wasn’t going to calm my restless energy.

Surveying the area, I made a mental list of all the things I wanted to either fix or change.

The backyard and the land were the main reasons I’d bought the house. My lot was just under an acre, and the back half of it was wooded.

The only thing I didn’t like about the lot was that the house was in the corner of it and not in the middle. Because of this, I had full privacy from my neighbors on the left since nearly half an acre of our combined land separated us. I didn’t have that with my other neighbors because their house was in the corner of their lot as well. Our driveways only had a small strip of land and a line of waist-high bushes between them, which was about as useful as glass when it came to privacy. The only thing separating our backyards was a garden on their side, a chain-link fence, and a three-foot-deep wall of trees on mine.

Unfortunately, the tree wall wasn’t tall enough to give me full privacy. I could see into their yard from my loft, and I knew they could see into mine from the massive balcony that stretched across their top floor.

“Jinx!”

The shriek of a child’s voice jarred me out of my musings.

“Jinx! Jinxy!” the child screamed. The distress in his voice hit like an anvil. Something was seriously wrong.

“Leo!” a woman yelled, sounding hysterical.

“Jinx!” The kid’s voice broke with tears.

Unable to just stand there and listen, I took off at a run toward our shared property line.

“Leo, wait!” the woman shouted.

“He’s going to die! Jinx!” the kid wailed.

I came to a stop in front of the trees and peered through them.

“It’s okay,” the woman said, catching up to a kid in a yellow shirt who was standing in the middle of the yard and sobbing so hard his shoulders heaved.

The woman, who looked to be in her thirties, tried to pull him into a hug, but the kid shook her off.

“We have to find him,” he said through his sobs. “Jinxy!” he screeched.

“Um, hello?” I called.

The woman snapped her head toward the trees.

“Hi. I’m your neighbor,” I continued. “Is everything okay?”

“No!” the kid shrieked. “Help!”

“Ma’am?” I asked. “Do you need help?”