Satisfy Me

Chapter 2

Suzzie

Papa set his coffee down and looked across the table at Mama.

“We should go next door after lunch. They left that note. Feels rude not to say hello properly.”

Mama glanced up from her list. “Today?”

“Better while everything’s still new. We won’t stay long.”

I put my sandwich down. “Can I come?”

Papa looked at me, then at Mama. She gave a small nod.

“All right,” he said. “But you stay close. First visit is for manners, not running off.”

I finished eating faster than usual and ran upstairs to put on cleaner socks. When I came back down Mama was holding a tin of cookies from one of the boxes. Papa checked his watch, gave me a quick look to make sure I looked presentable, and opened the front door.

The path between the houses followed the fence, then cut through a short stretch of trees. Papa walked beside me, matching my pace.

“If they ask you something, answer clearly,” he said. “No mumbling at the floor. And if you get stuck, just smile. Works more often than you’d think.”

Mama laughed softly. “He’s not wrong.”

The house sat further back than ours and looked older. A wide porch ran along the front. Before Papa could knock, the door opened. A woman stepped out, smiling like she meant it.

“You must be the Sterlings. I’m Vivienne Holloway. Please, come in.”

A man appeared behind her, taller and quieter. He shook Papa’s hand and nodded to Mama.

“Beaumont Holloway. Welcome to the neighbourhood.”

I stayed beside Mama while the adults talked about the move, the weather, and the note left on our porch. Vivienne took the tin with real thanks and led us into a sitting room. Beaumont asked Papa about the drive and whether the house had needed much work. Papa answered easily, making the wobbly table and the empty rooms sound like small shared problems rather than complaints.

I sat on the edge of a chair and kept my hands in my lap. After a few minutes Vivienne turned to me with a warmer smile.

“And you must be Suzzie. Your parents mentioned you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Would you like to see the garden while they talk? My son is outside. He’s about your age.”

Mama gave me the behave look. Papa nodded once.

“Go on,” he said. “Stay where Mrs. Holloway can see you.”

I followed Vivienne through a side door onto a stone path. The garden was larger than ours and already neat. A boy stood near the far edge, hands in his pockets. He turned when he heard us. He was a little taller than me, dark hair, quiet face.

“Rowan,” Vivienne said, “this is Suzzie. She’s just moved in next door. Show her the garden, please. Stay where we can see you.”

She went back inside. Rowan looked at me for a second, then gave a small nod.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

He pointed at a low wall. “You can sit if you want.”

I sat, pressing my hands under my thighs so I wouldn’t fidget too much. He stayed standing a moment longer before sitting a little ways from me, elbows on his knees.

“You just moved in?” he asked.

“Two days ago. Feels longer though.” I picked at a bit of moss on the wall. “My cousin helped us. She left for Italy yesterday.”

“Italy?”

“She goes back and forth. She paints.”

He nodded. The quiet stretched. I wanted to ask more about school or if other kids lived nearby, but Mama’s look from earlier kept me steady.

“Do you like it here?”

“It’s fine. Quiet.”

“Our old place was louder. This feels different.”

He glanced at me sideways, then away again. “You’ll get used to it.”

“How long was the drive for you?” he asked after a moment.

“Most of the day. Papa doesn’t like stopping much.”

“My father is the same with trips.”

“Does he pack a lot?”

“Too much. Mother always makes him take things back out.”

I almost smiled. “Mama does that too.”

We sat a little longer. When Vivienne called us in, he stood first and waited for me to follow.

The adults had finished their coffee. Mama stood and thanked them. Papa shook Beaumont’s hand again and said something that made the other man give a short, real laugh. Rowan walked with us as far as the porch, then stopped.

“See you around.”

“See you.”

On the walk back Papa asked if the boy had been polite. I said yes. He nodded, looking pleased.

“Good. First impressions matter on both sides.”

Mama glanced at him with a small smile. I looked back once before the trees blocked the view. Rowan was still on the porch, hands in his pockets, watching us go.