Chapter 2
1508 Words
The evening air was cooler than Stella expected.
She walked beside her father, her hands tucked into the pockets of her cardigan as they made their way down the quiet street. She had only been in the neighborhood for a short while, but she was already beginning to notice little things about it.
The houses were close to one another, but each one seemed to have its own personality. Some had flowers growing along their fences. Others had children running around their compounds. A few had old trees that stretched over the sidewalks, their branches moving gently whenever the wind passed through.
Stella liked looking at things.
She just didn’t always like talking about them.
Her father walked a little ahead of her, occasionally turning around to make sure she was still beside him.
“You’re quiet today,” he said.
“I’m always quiet.”
He smiled. “Exactly.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I heard that.”
“I meant for you to hear it.”
She smiled despite herself.
They continued walking until they reached a house with a small garden in front. An elderly woman was sitting outside on a wooden chair, and beside her was a large brown dog.
The moment Stella noticed the dog, she slowed down.
Her father noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He looked at her, then at the dog.
“Stella.”
“I don’t like dogs.”
“You’ve never even touched one.”
“I don’t need to touch one to know I don’t like them.”
Her father laughed softly.
The old woman looked up and smiled when she noticed them.
“Good evening!”
Her father stopped.
“Good evening, ma.”
The woman looked at Stella and then back at him.
“You must be the new neighbors.”
Her father smiled. “Yes. We just moved in.”
“I thought so. I haven’t seen you around before.”
She stood up slowly, holding onto the arm of her chair.
“Welcome to the neighborhood.”
“Thank you very much.”
The woman smiled warmly.
“And who is this?”
She pointed toward Stella.
“This is my daughter, Stella.”
“Stella,” the woman repeated. “Pretty name.”
“Thank you,” Stella said quietly.
The dog suddenly stood up.
Stella’s eyes widened.
“Daddy.”
Her father tried not to laugh.
The dog wagged its tail and walked toward them.
“Don’t worry,” the old woman said. “He’s friendly.”
The dog came closer.
Stella stepped backward.
Then another step.
Then another.
“Stella,” her father whispered, laughing.
“It’s coming!”
“He’s only trying to greet you.”
“I don’t want to be greeted.”
The old woman burst into laughter.
“Oh, my dear! He won’t hurt you.”
The dog reached Stella and sniffed her shoe.
She froze.
Completely.
Her father covered his mouth, clearly trying not to laugh.
“Don’t laugh.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m really not.”
“You’re literally laughing.”
The old woman laughed even harder.
After a moment, she called the dog back.
“Come here, Bruno.”
The dog reluctantly returned to her.
Stella released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.
“There,” the woman said. “Safe.”
Stella nodded.
“Thank you.”
The old woman studied her for a moment before smiling again.
“You two should come inside.”
Her father immediately shook his head.
“Oh no, ma. Thank you. We were just taking a walk.”
“Nonsense. I made too much food.”
“That’s very kind of you, but we wouldn’t want to disturb you.”
“You aren’t disturbing me.”
She looked at Stella.
“And I certainly don’t mind having company.”
Stella looked at her father.
Her father gave her a polite smile.
“We really should be going.”
Stella surprised herself.
“Daddy…”
He looked at her.
“Maybe we can stay for a little while.”
Her father raised an eyebrow.
“You want to?”
She shrugged.
“She’s already invited us.”
The old woman smiled.
“See? Your daughter has sense.”
Stella smiled.
Her father sighed dramatically.
“Fine. Just for a little while.”
“Good!”
The woman opened the gate wider.
“Come in.”
⸻
Inside, the house smelled like food.
Not the kind of smell Stella was used to from their own kitchen. This was warmer somehow—like something had been cooking for hours.
They sat around a small dining table while the woman brought out plates.
“You really didn’t have to do all this,” Stella’s father said.
“Eat first. Talk later.”
Stella looked at her plate.
There was rice, stew, fried plantain, and chicken.
Her eyes widened slightly.
The woman noticed.
“Don’t be shy.”
“I’m not.”
“You’ve been staring at the food for ten seconds.”
Stella looked down.
Her father laughed.
“She does that.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
The woman smiled.
“Then eat.”
And Stella did.
For the first few minutes, there wasn’t much conversation.
Her father and the woman talked about the neighborhood while Stella concentrated on her food.
She listened.
The woman had lived in the house for many years. She talked about how much the neighborhood had changed and how children who were once small enough to run around the street were now grown adults with families of their own.
Stella found herself listening more closely than she expected.
“You’re very quiet,” the woman suddenly said.
Stella looked up.
Her father smiled.
“She is.”
“I can hear you,” Stella said.
The woman laughed.
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing.”
Stella looked at her.
“Some people talk because they’re uncomfortable with silence.”
She took a sip of her drink.
“And some people are comfortable enough to let silence stay.”
Stella didn’t know what to say to that.
So she smiled.
The woman smiled back.
“What do you like doing?”
Stella thought for a moment.
“Reading.”
“Reading what?”
“Anything, really.”
“Anything?”
She nodded.
The woman leaned back in her chair.
“Then you must have a lot going on in that head of yours.”
Stella laughed softly.
“Maybe.”
Her father looked at her.
It was probably the most she’d spoken to someone she had just met in a while.
The conversation continued.
They talked about the weather. About the food. About Bruno.
Apparently, Bruno had once stolen a whole loaf of bread from a neighbor’s kitchen and disappeared with it.
Stella laughed.
“I can’t believe he did that.”
“He has no shame,” the woman said.
As if he understood them, Bruno walked into the room and sat beside Stella’s chair.
She immediately stiffened.
The woman noticed.
“He’s not going to bite you.”
“I know.”
“You still look frightened.”
“I’m not frightened.”
Her father looked at her.
“You are.”
Stella ignored him.
Bruno rested his head against her leg.
She looked down.
The dog looked up at her.
For a few seconds, neither of them moved.
Then, slowly, Stella reached down and touched the top of his head.
Bruno wagged his tail.
Stella smiled.
“See?” the woman said. “You’re friends now.”
“Don’t push it.”
Everyone laughed.
⸻
By the time Stella and her father finally stood to leave, the sky outside had grown darker.
“Thank you for the food,” her father said.
“Anytime.”
The woman hugged him before turning toward Stella.
“And you.”
Stella smiled.
“Thank you.”
“I’m glad you came.”
Stella nodded.
“So am I.”
They stepped outside.
Bruno followed them to the gate.
Stella stopped.
The dog looked at her.
She hesitated before giving him one last small pat.
“Bye, Bruno.”
Her father looked at her with amusement as they walked away.
“I thought you hated dogs.”
“I still don’t like dogs.”
“But you just said goodbye to him.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
Stella shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
Her father smiled but didn’t say anything else.
They continued walking home.
For the first time since arriving in the neighborhood, Stella looked around and didn’t feel quite as much like a stranger.
She didn’t know the people here.
She didn’t know the streets.
She didn’t know what the next few weeks would bring.
But maybe, she thought, she didn’t have to know yet.
For now, she was just happy she had gone for that walk.
And maybe that was enough.
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