Ever since their conversation over tea, Stella was front and center in his thoughts.  Magdalene would flicker here and there, but Anton found it easy to displace her.  He was, however, curious to find out what she might be up to, if anything.  Her little white lie of moving in was the most disturbing, but only if she actually meant it.  It’d be one thing if they really had discussed her move, but they didn’t.  So why reveal that to Stella?  He’d find out eventually.<br/><br/>In the meantime, there was the matter of Ms. McIntosh to contend with.  Anton had somehow convinced her to stay, if three months could be considered “convincing.”  Well, it was better than nothing, he thought.<br/><br/>Fact of the matter was that the more he reflected on the current situation, the more it bothered him about what Magdalene said.  Phone in hand, he tapped her speed-dial number.  She answered on the third ring.  “Hi, Anton.  You miss me already?” Magdalene cooed.<br/><br/>“Hey, Mags,” he replied calmly.  No sugarcoating it, and no beating around the bush.  “Can you tell me why you told Stella you were moving in with me?”  Silence on the other end.  Finally, “I don’t know, Anton.  I saw her in a store and that’s what popped into my head.”  She conveniently left out everything else.<br/><br/>“Well, your little prank upset her, which in turn upset me,” he stated.  An intake of breath, and Magdalene asked, “You’re mad at me?”  An exhale of breath, and he responded, “I think so.  I’ll talk to you later, Mags.”<br/><br/>“Wait!  Don’t hang up!” she pleaded.  Oops, too late.  Anton switched his phone to<i>mute</i>and lay on the couch.  Stella seemed miserable during their brief time together, and he felt miserable for what Magdalene had put his neighbor through.  And for what?