by J. J. Bella
After a few attempts, Molly managed to get the alarm set. She didn’t think it was necessary to set it in order to go for a walk around the block, but she wanted to get used to doing it when she didn’t have somewhere to be. She walked down her long driveway and past her gate, pressing the button to close it behind her.
All the houses on this block were as huge as hers with it’s eight bathrooms and six bedrooms. All cost several million to be sure, sitting on acres of pristine green lawn. She walked past gate after gate, looking up stretching driveways to see what she could see of her neighbors.
No one was outside. No one washing their cars, walking their dogs, sitting around talking. In her old neighborhood, there was never quiet. Always, someone was shouting in the street, someone was talking by, several neighbors would be standing on the corner talking. She used to be annoyed by the fact that she couldn’t leave or enter her house without having to say hello to three people, but now the solitude felt crushing.
She saw someone a few feet ahead pull up to their gate, and she sped up her walking. A woman leaned out of her car to put in her security code, and Molly waved as she called out.
“Hi there!”
The woman looked over and gave her a wary look.
“I’m your new neighbor.” Molly was just a few feet from the car now. “Just moved in down the street.”
The woman pressed her lips together. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” Then she drove off without a goodbye or a wave, and the gate closed behind her.
Maybe she was just having a bad day, Molly thought. A few houses later, she saw a man watering the lawn. She walked up to the gate and waved again.
“Hiya! I’m your new neighbor!”
“Oh!” The man smiled and waved back. “I’m the gardener. I don’t live here.”
“Oh. Well, hi anyway.”
She’d thought maybe she could knock on a few doors and introduce herself. Bake some cookies as a goodwill gesture. But with every house gated up, it seemed awkward to approach an intercom rather than a front door. Maybe walking around wasn’t the way to do this. She had to keep telling herself that everything was different now, especially this neighborhood. People wouldn’t just hang out in the street talking.
The friends she made here likely wouldn’t come from her block at all. She needed to get out in the community and do things. Attend community events, go to the local stores. That sort of thing. Maybe even join a book club now that she’d have more time to read. She’d always wanted to join a club like that.
She decided to turn back and head home, but then saw a lucky chance. A man out walking his dog who was just coming out of his gate. She realized that he lived in the house next door to hers. Not only did she get lost in her own house today, she hadn’t even known she was right in front of it. Maybe a bigger number sign by the gate would help.
She walked quickly to catch up to the man, but didn’t want to startle him by sneaking up behind him. “Hi there,” she said from several back.
He didn’t turn his head, but kept walking. He wore a white baseball hat and tilted it down to hide his face. He looked ready to work out in his jersey shorts and t-shirt.
Molly spoke up. “Hi there, neighbor!”
He finally looked back, just over his shoulder at her.
“Neighbor?” He raised an eyebrow and lifted his head.
The shadow fell away from his face and she could see all of him now in the bright afternoon sun. She almost gasped. He was gorgeous. One of those Hollywood types she’d only ever seen on TV with perfect hair, glittering eyes, a well-toned muscular body. Could he be an actor? He didn’t seem too familiar looking, but maybe.
“Umm, yup.” She swallowed hard and tried to gather her thoughts.
“Cool.” He turned back to face ahead and walked faster, like he was trying to get away from her.
“It’s been kind of hard to meet people,” she said. She didn’t want to just follow him, but she didn’t want to give up too easily, either. Men liked it when women made the move, right? When they showed their interest? She was definitely interested in the boy next door and wanted to know more about him.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Molly. Newton. What’s your name?”
He gave her a shocked look. “Really?”
“I’m sorry. I knew it. You’re some famous actor or something, aren’t you? I’m not used to running into famous people on the street. I’m new here.”
“You don’t say,” he said flatly.
“So, are you?”
“An actor? Definitely not.”
“Oh.”
She wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Most people know me, though,” he said. “Especially around here. Gavin Rowe.”
“Nice to meet you, Gavin.” His name didn’t sound familiar, but she’d Google him as soon as she got home. “What kind of dog is that?”
“Weimaraner.”
“Oh.” She’d never heard of that sort of dog. “What’s his name?”
“Zane.”
“That’s cool.” She tried to think of what she should say next. What else could she ask him?
“See ya around,” he said, then broke into a jog.
She didn’t want her only conversation all day to be cut so short. “Wait a sec,” she said.
He stopped and turned back around, now wearing a slightly annoyed look. “Yeah?” The dog sat obediently by his side, stopping the second he stopped moving.
“I was just wondering if maybe you knew of some sort of book club or anything in the community to get involved in?”
“No.”
Before he could turn around again, she asked her next question without thinking. “Umm… Do you think you could show me around the neighborhood?”
He crossed his arms and breathed out a sigh. Then he waved his arm around. “Here it is. I gotta run. Literally.”
With that, he turned and took off at a run, his dog keeping his pace at his side. She stood for a second watching him go. Was everyone in this neighborhood so rude? Maybe that was just how the rich did life. They didn’t get involved in things, they didn’t make friends with their neighbors. They pretended that they lived on their own private islands and didn’t need anyone outside of their personal staff.
She turned back to her house and walked alone slowly, feeling dejected. Maybe she needed to hire some people to keep her company. A housekeeper? A personal chef? Someone who would be there often and was paid to be around. But the idea of having to hire people just to avoid being alone seemed so pathetic she was embarrassed for even thinking it.
2
By the time she returned to her house and trudged up the driveway, she felt horrible. Then she opened the front door, tried to turn off the alarm, and got confused. She punched in the code again, but the beeping didn’t stop. She punched it in one more time, slower and harder. The beeping sped up. Her heart rate sped with the beeping, and she let out a small scream of frustration.
She fumbled in her pocket for the piece of paper that the code was written on it. She pulled it out, but it was the receipt from her lunch the day before. She pulled out several more papers before she found what she needed. She opened it and checked the code, but the beeping stopped.
“That’s weird.” She looked down at the paper and realized she’d been trying to enter the code for her safe up stairs, not the house alarm. Why would it just shut off, though? It shouldn’t do that.
Then she heard another alarm somewhere outside. She walked to the front entry and glanced out the window. Red and blue lights flashed across her lawn.
“Crap!” She slapped her forehead. This was going to cost her.
She ran to the intercom and saw a policeman approaching the camera at the gate.
“Sorry officer,” she said. “False alarm. I just moved in and got confused on the code.”
“I’ll need the password for verification.” He held a piece of paper and waited for her response.
She told him the alarm
’s code. “Thanks for coming by.”
“I’m afraid that’s not the correct password.”
“What?” She looked down at the paper again and saw her mistake, but the officer was already entering the code to open the gate. The security company must give them all that information. Good for when she needed them to protect her in a break in, bad for when she goofed up and said the wrong thing.
The cruiser drove up her driveway and the officers got out. She pulled open the door and found herself facing an officer with a gun pointed at her.
She immediately put her hands up. “I’m sorry! I told you the code instead of the password. I didn’t know there were two different ones! It’s ‘yellow daisy chain’!”
He put his gun down. “Everything okay?”
Tears came to her eyes, and she swallowed them down and nodded.
“You did give the code correctly,” the officer said. “That’s why we came in through the front door and didn’t surround the place. But I needed the password, not the alarm code.” He looked down at his notes. “Name?”
“Molly Newton. I just moved in yesterday. I got confused, I’m sorry.”
The officer kept reading and nodded. “I see that. There are two codes for the house alarm. One turns it on and off, and the other is in case you accidentally set it off.”
“Right.” She hung her head and felt her cheeks grow hot. “I’ve never had an alarm before.”
“You get three false alarms per year before we start charging you to come out.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Anything else we can do for you, Miss Newton?”
“No, thanks. That was really fast.” Had it even been five minutes since she set off the alarm?
“We take break ins very seriously around here.”
“Good to know. Thanks again.”
She saw the officers out and reset the alarm according to the manual. She folded over the corner of the page that said, “In the event of accidental alarm trigger.” Hopefully she wouldn’t need it again.
She sat down in her living room and stared at the wall for a minute. It didn’t take long for the tears to come. She felt stupid and out of place. People in her neighborhood were rude and cold, and Gavin had been the worst. Didn’t anyone believe in welcome wagons anymore? The officers had been kind and understanding, but she knew that now there’d be a report out there of how dumb she was. They were probably having a good laugh at the precinct right now over the silly girl who didn’t know the difference between an alarm code and a password.
She curled on her side and cried quietly for several minutes. The loneliness was maybe the worst part. Well, there was one thing she could do about that.
Molly picked up her phone, swiped over to her favorites, and tapped Sarah’s photo. The phone rang once before she answered.
“How’s the life of the rich and fabulous?”
Molly was so relieved to hear her best friend’s voice that fresh tears came. “Horrible.”
“Why?” she laughed. “Too much money to spend?”
Molly sniffed and her voice wavered. “It’s lonely and so different. People don’t want to be friendly here. And I set off the alarm and the cops came.”
“Aww, honey, I’m sorry. It’s just new. It happens. Shawn set off the alarm at the Stop ’n Go last week.”
“Yeah, but that’s different,” Molly said. “Employees forget codes. This is my house. I should know how to get in and out of it without the police coming.”
“You will. Give it time.”
“Can you come over? I need someone to be here with me in this huge, empty house. And I could use help picking out decorations.”
“Shopping?” Sarah sounded excited. “I’ll be right there.”
When Sarah arrived, she brought a 6-pack of alcoholic lemonade. “You still drink this, right? Or is it all Cristal now?”
Molly rolled her eyes and closed the door behind her. “I haven’t changed. Just everything around me has.”
“Ahh, you will, though. Just wait. You’ll hook up with some rich friends, date a super billionaire, and before you know it, you’ll be saying, ‘Sarah who?’”
Molly didn’t answer, but sat down hard on the sofa and started crying again.
“Hey, okay.” Sarah sat beside her and put her arm around her. “I’m sorry. I was just kidding.”
“I can’t do this. This isn’t me. I should be back in the old neighborhood.”
“In the ghetto, you mean? You miss having your car broken into every week for a handful of change? Hearing dogs bark constantly, people screaming at each other all hours of the night? No thank you.”
“You could stay for a while. You could still move in.”
“We’ve been through this, Mol. I can’t leave my brother. He’d starve without me.”
“Bring him, too.”
She shook her head. “This is your new life, not ours.”
“Maybe it’s not mine, either. I’m a fake here. This isn’t me.” She waved her arm around, indicating the house.
“Well.” Sarah opened two bottles of the lemonade and handed Molly one. “It is you, though. Your parents gave you millions. You’re rich. You’re a millionaire, and you live in a mansion. You don’t have to be like all the other rich yuppies, though. You be your own millionaire. Molly Millionaire. Do it your way. Don’t try to stuff into some mold they made for you.”
“But nothing of my old life is here.”
“Umm, hello? You’re here. You can still get overpriced milk at the Stop ’n Go and see my dorky brother slacking off. You can drive through the old neighborhood and lock your doors so you don’t get mugged. You could go back to work, do all the things you used to do.”
“Right. City Styles practically kicked me out after all the media kept coming around. And I hated that crappy job.”
“Well then.” Sarah took a long sip and set her bottle down, half empty. “Molly, you are living the life everyone dreams of living. Find a way to enjoy it. Sheesh. Let’s buy stuff.”
Molly sighed and opened the lid of her new laptop. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Well, the new living room furniture looks good.”
Molly had chosen the basics and had them delivered before she moved in so that she’d have a place to sit and sleep. But she hadn’t done much more than open the Ikea catalog, find a room she liked, and ordered all the furniture. There was no creativity in it, even if she did really like the white, green, and silver colors of her couch, lamps, and coffee table. She needed something to fill the walls and nooks and crannies, though.
They surfed the web for a while, racking up several sizable shopping bills as they finished their lemonades. Molly had a nice buzz by the time she hit the button to check out and entered her credit card to cover the bill that was several thousands of dollars.
“Man.” Sarah shook her head. “What’s it like to blow three grand in an hour on art?”
“It’s like it’s not me.”
“I think you need a hobby. Why don’t you take up painting and make your own?”
“I have very little artistic talent.”
“Okay… play an instrument? You should learn a few languages so you can travel and go on epic vacations. Oh! Learn how to do that stained glass stuff my mother loves so much. People sell that shit at farmer’s markets for a lot.”
Molly shrugged.
“Oh, right. I guess you don’t need to make more money,” Sarah said. “You could get all compassionate and volunteer at homeless shelters and stuff.”
“Yeah, I might do something like that. Something to get me out of the house.”
Sarah slung her arm around Molly’s shoulders. “You can always call me.”
“I know. Thanks.”
Sarah spent the night and it was nice to have company, but when she left in the morning, the house felt empty again.
3
Molly tried to do the things she and Sarah had discussed to fill her time. She j
oined a yoga class, signed up to be a big sister to kids in need, and spent time on travel web sites planning a trip so she would know which language to start learning.
She took out stacks of books from the library, and more stacks came in the mail. She spent hours a day reading. She joined a gourmet recipe site and decided that every meal she made would be something out of a fine dining restaurant’s menu. These things filled her day, but at night, she still felt lonely.
“How’s it been for you guys?” Molly asked her mother during their weekly phone call.
“Different. We’re not used to being together so much.” She dropped her voice a little. “Your father is kind of weird, did you know that?”
Molly laughed. “I did. But you guys aren’t lonely or anything?”
“Quite the opposite. Dad went out and joined every club he could find. Tonight, he attends some golf club.”
“Dad golfs?”
“I guess he does now.” She sighed. “What have you been up to?”
“Trying to keep busy. Trying to meet people.” Molly relayed some of the things she’d been doing that week.
“Hey, is that my Molly Muffin?” her dad’s voice in the background asked. There was some muffling, then her dad was on the line. “Hey honey.”
“Hi Dad.”
“Did Mom tell you what I did last night?”
“Nope. She said you have golf tonight, though.”
“Not golf. Golf club. It’s all about learning the game. So they say. Last night was investment club.”
“Oh boy. That sounds like a real blast.”
“It was quite eye-opening,” he said. “I met this man who turned me on to a huge business opportunity. I wanted to tell you about it. See if you want to get involved. It’s a chance to put our money somewhere and let it do its thing. Won’t last forever, you know, and banks pay crap for interest.”
