The Good Neighbor (2 page)

“Who lets their kids run around the yard at
night screaming like that? Especially when you just moved into the
neighborhood?” he asked, watching the kids down the street run
circles in the yard of their new home.

“I don’t know. Probably someone hot,” I said,
teasing him.

“I only said that for your benefit,” he said
smiling. When I didn’t return his smile, he looked at the ground,
suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Owen. I didn’t mean anything by
that.”

“It’s okay,” I lied. It wasn’t okay. I may be
ready to try to let go of her memory, but I certainly wasn’t ready
to move on that way. I didn’t even know how to move on that
way.

“Still. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Andy?”

“Yes?”

“Aren’t there some people somewhere waiting
for you to grace them with your presence?” I smiled, letting him
know to forget about it.

“Yeah. Can’t keep my fans waiting,” he said
in a lighter tone, walking to his car. “I’d tell you to be on the
porch when I get home and we’ll keep an eye on Jenson, but I’m sure
you’ll be there already, not stalking him.” He laughed and got in
his car before I could respond.

He drove away, leaving me standing on the
lawn listening to the sounds of chirping crickets and screaming
kids.

When I stepped out the door the next morning,
I saw the mess. I’d forgotten to bring in the burger and fries. The
neighborhood dog had found and eaten it, but the wrappers were
lying on the porch. At least he hadn’t ripped the wrappers to
shreds as most dogs would have done. I stooped down to pick them
up.

“Hello,” said a sweet, feminine voice.

I looked up as she stepped off the top step
and onto the porch, only a couple feet from me. I stood, trying to
appear as though I wasn’t looking. But I noticed her painted
toenails, her sandals, her ankle bracelet, her toned legs, her
curvy hips wrapped in jean shorts, her white blouse, her slender
neck, and her beautiful face.

“Hello,” I said in return. I wasn’t sure what
else to say. I thought I was doing good to manage to speak actual
words. I was so taken with her that I was certain all I’d be able
to do was spew forth some nonsense. But somehow my tongue hadn’t
failed me.

She smiled. “I just moved in down the street.
I wanted to introduce myself. My name is Carla Jones. You probably
heard my kids last night. I hope they didn’t bother you, but they
were so excited to learn that we’re walking distance from a park.”
She laughed lightly.

“Well, I did wonder if you always gave them
caffeine before bed,” I said with a smile.

She laughed again. “No, usually, you don’t
even know they’re there. They’re very good kids. Thankfully,” she
said.

Andy pulled into his driveway. I could feel
him staring at us. I did my best to ignore him.

“Why thankfully?” I asked.

“Well, being a single mother would be a lot
harder for me if they were unruly.”

“Yeah, I guess that would make it harder. So
are you moving from somewhere else or another part of town?”

I felt Andy gawking as he slowly made his way
into his house and I felt myself start to blush. I knew there’d be
a lot of questions from him later.

“We moved here from Dallas. My Aunt Elaine
passed away last February and she left me the house in her will. I
packed up the kids, and moved here. It’s scary, you know. Starting
over.” She looked down the street at her kids playing in the yard
and smiled.

“Elaine was your aunt, huh?” I did what I
could to keep my voice from tightening.

“Yeah. Did you know her?” she asked, turning
her attention back to me.

“I did. I used to shovel her walkway in the
winter. I helped her carry in groceries a few times. That sort of
thing. My wife knew her better than I did,” I said tightly. I was
losing the battle to keep my voice loose and nonchalant. I quickly
added, “I never found out what happened to her.”

“Oh, I thought you knew. Her body was found
in a ditch outside of town. She died of head trauma. It looked like
they used a poker. Never found out who did it.” She paused a
moment, deep in thought. “You don’t think I made a mistake moving
into the house, do you? It seems like a nice, quiet neighborhood,
but, well, it’s the same house, and...”

I saw the hope in her eyes. I knew she needed
to hear that she’d be fine on this street, in that house, and that
the horrible things that had happened to her aunt were not going to
happen to her. I could do that. I could tell her what she needed to
hear. “No, no. You’re fine. This is a great neighborhood.”

She must’ve read something in the look on my
face. “Is something wrong?” She looked at me expectantly.

I was still upset about mentioning my wife.
It was like slapping a sunburn. I was used to the pain, but when I
mentioned her, it stung as if it were fresh.

“No,” I said. “I know you and your kids will
be very happy here.”

“Good,” she said, clearly relieved. “Guess
I’d better get back. I’ll talk to you again soon. Meet your wife
perhaps?” She had turned to leave, but once she saw the look on my
face, she stopped. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. She pointed to my
wedding ring. “I just...assumed. I’m sorry.” She was clearly
confused.

I looked at my ring. Struggling to keep my
voice steady and my eyes dry, I said, “It’s a long story.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Of course she didn’t. How could she?

“Well,” she said, trying to rectify the
situation. “If you ever want to tell it, let me know. I’ll cook
dinner. I’m a great listener.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

“Good. You could meet the kids.” She turned
and walked away, heading for her new home and leaving behind the
faint scent of her perfume. I inhaled through my nose and watched
her walk away, realizing that Andy was right. She was very
attractive. I immediately felt guilty for thinking such
thoughts.

I didn’t have to feel guilty for long,
though. Andy dashed out of his house and over to mine, running up
on the porch.

“Well?” he asked, excitedly. He appeared to
have been hovering at the door, waiting to run over here and
bombard me with questions. When I didn’t answer, he repeated,
“Well?”

“Out of the eleventy bazillion questions you
have for me, this is the one you lead with?” I sat down in my
chair, Andy taking the one next to me.

“I’m working my way up to the others,” he
said as he crossed his legs, placing an ankle on the opposite
knee.

“She’s nice. Elaine was her aunt.”

“Oh. She’s nice. That’s all you have to
say?”

“What more do you want me to say? We talked
for like five minutes. Besides, don’t you get enough gossip at
work?”

“One can never have enough gossip. Thought
you knew that. Besides I don’t think of it as gossip. I think of it
as informed entertainment.”

“Informed entertainment?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess if that’s the word that
separates you from the other ladies, then fine.”

Andy laughed. He relaxed further into the
chair.

“You know what we need?” he asked. Before I
could answer, “We need beer.” He jumped up and ran back to his
house, returning only moments later with two ice cold bottles of
beer. I would’ve protested that it was too early, but for him, it
was evening. Things were always weird like this when he worked
nights. Handing one to me, he plopped into the chair and put his
feet up on my table. “Nice footstool,” he said.

“Don’t hate the patio furniture.”

“What’s Jenson been doing today so far?” he
asked, opening his bottle.

“Don’t know. I haven’t been paying
attention.” I opened my beer, appreciating the hell out of the
twist off top.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Andy
looking at me with a huge grin smeared across his face. I wasn’t
sure how, but I knew he was going to turn this conversation into
something more than it was.

“What is it, Andy?” I asked, not turning
toward him.

“Haven’t been paying attention, huh? You
have, just not to Jenson.” It didn’t take a team of scientific
engineers to figure out what he meant by that.

I fought the urge to glance in Carla’s
direction. I ignored his point and continued staring across the
street at Mr. Jenson’s house.

“You ever talk to him? I mean, like really
talk to him.” I asked. Andy hadn’t lived in the neighborhood as
long as I had, but he was more outgoing than I was so I assumed
he’d talked with him at some point. Andy had never met a stranger.
While I’d been caught up in work, Andy had socialized. I teased him
often about being a gossip, but it was just that he talked to
everyone, so he knew more than most people did.

“Not really. Said hi a few times when he
moved in a couple years ago. He’s not much of a talker,
though.”

“Well, I’d have thought you’d love to talk to
someone who wouldn’t interrupt your monologues and
soliloquies.”

“Yeah, well, I need a challenge. You don’t
exactly talk my ear off either, you know.” He took a long drink of
his beer.

“Doesn’t have many visitors, does he?” I
asked, ignoring his statement about my silence.

“He’s never had a visitor. At least not that
I’ve seen. Of course, I work odd hours, so it’s possible that he
had some and I didn’t see. Possible, but not probable. Jill’s never
seen him have a visitor either.”

“You think we should visit him?”

I could almost hear the snap in his neck when
he turned and glared at me.

“Are you serious? No way.” He sounded as if
I’d just asked him to eat a platter of whale wiener.

“Well, you’re the one who was all for
stalking him. Now you don’t want to visit? Why not? What better way
to find out what he does with those bags than to be in his house
and look around. Maybe even work it into a conversation.”

“Stalking is different than visiting.
Besides, what are we going to do? Go over there and say ‘Excuse me,
sir. But we were wondering exactly how many people you’ve killed
this month. We lost track. We were keeping count of the body bags
you hauled out of here, but we lost our paperwork.’ You’re crazy.
No way.”

“Of course not. That’s silly. I wouldn’t call
him sir.”

Andy chuckled.

“He must be lonely over there. I know how
that feels,” I muttered.

Andy was silent for a while. Then, “You know,
that girl really seemed to like you. If you want to visit someone,
maybe you should visit her.” Holding his hands out, palms up, as if
they were scales, he said, “Hot girl or old man? If that’s a tough
decision for you, you’ve got problems, buddy.”

I laughed.

“I’m serious. I’ll walk you down there, if
you want.” He leaned forward, as if he were going to jump out of
the chair if I’d only give him the word.

I laughed again. “I’m not ready for that,
Andy.”

Growing a little more serious, Andy said, “I
know, but I think you should be. It’s been a long time, Owen. She’s
not coming back.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat so I could
down the rest of the beer. I hoped it would take some of the sting
out of those words. But it didn’t. I don’t think Andy realized how
raw that wound still was. I also don’t think he realized how fully
aware I was that she wasn’t coming back. She would never come back.
I knew that. I just don’t think he knew that I knew that.

“I’m sorry, man. I just...you’re my best
friend, and I hate seeing you like this. It pisses me off. You’re a
great guy. You need to be happy. And if a hot mother of two is
what’ll make you happy, then I’ll walk you down the street myself.”
He smiled.

I chuckled. “I’m okay.”

Andy dropped the subject for now. I knew it
wasn’t over. I knew that the very next opportunity that arose, he’d
be trying to talk me into going down the street to her house and
asking her out. I also knew he wasn’t trying to be an ass. He was
trying to be helpful. He only wanted what was best for me.

While Andy slept, Jill came over. “I figured
you were hungry,” she said, handing me a large covered dish.

I waved the dish under my nose. “Smells good.
Lasagna?”

“Baked spaghetti.” She shrugged her shoulders
and laughed. “Same thing, I guess.”

I took the dish into the kitchen and put it
in the refrigerator. I quickly returned to the porch, where Jill
sat, waiting for me to sit before talking.

“Don’t you ever get tired of sitting out
here?” She crossed her short legs at the ankle and clasped her
hands over her belly. She rested her head on the back of the chair
and fell deep into thought.

It always amazed me how every time she came
over and sat on my porch, she appeared to be on vacation. It was
like my porch slowed down time for her. She even looked as though
she were on vacation. She had on white canvas shoes, green socks
that matched her green shorts and green blouse, and a white hat
with her ponytail pulled through the hole in the back. She had
tourist written all over her.

I knew what she was thinking. It’s what she
was always thinking and I didn’t want to talk about it. I knew I
needed to talk about it with someone, and Jill would probably be
the one when the time came. But I just didn’t feel that now was the
time.

“Owen?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said quietly, dreading where this
was heading.

“You don’t deserve what she’s done to you. No
matter what happened between you two, you don’t deserve this.”

I decided to open up a little and test the
waters, see if I was ready to talk about it yet. “That’s the part
that kills me, Jill. Nothing happened between us. One day,
everything was great, and the next day, everything was gone. In the
blink of an eye.” I did my best to hide the pain from my voice, but
I knew it was there. I heard it. I felt it as I spoke, and I knew
she hadn’t missed it. She never missed it.