The Good Neighbor

by Kimberly A Bettes

  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.

  “Everything isn’t gone, Owen. Onl
y she’s gone. And if she could do this to you, then it’s better that she left. How could she put you through this? She had to know what it would do to you. I’m going to say this, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.” She hesitated, probably thinking about keeping it to herself. “I’d rather you were alone than with someone who could hurt you so deeply, so easily. Does that sound horrible?”

  I shook my head. I knew what she meant. And she was right. But why did it still hurt so badly after all this time? I closed my eyes and wished the hurt would stop. I wished I could either rewind my life to a time when Holly was still with me, or fast forward my life to a time when Holly’s absence meant little to me. I wondered if there would ever be such a time.

  “How long will the pain last?” I asked, fighting the lump in my throat for the ability to speak.

  “Until you find something to fill the hole she left.”

  I looked at her unable to hide the doubt in my eyes.

  “Think about it,” she said. “If your boat leaks, it’ll leak until you plug the hole, right? In this case, the boat is your heart.”

  I thought about what she said. She was right. She was more than right. She was spot-on. But then again, she always was.

  “How’d you get to be so smart?” I asked, smiling to lighten the mood.

  “Well, I’ve been around. I’ve seen some things, done some stuff. Are you surprised that I’m good for more than filling your trough?”

  I laughed. “No. It’s just that you knew exactly what I needed to hear.”

  She smiled. “And I knew when to say it.” I could tell by the look on her face that there was a reason we were having this talk. When I saw her glance at the house down the street, it was clear.

  “Andy told you about the girl down the street, didn’t he?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Of course. But he was right to tell me. We’ve been talking about this for a while. It was just complete coincidence that she showed up like this.”

  “Good,” I said. “I was starting to think you two had killed Elaine so her niece would move here and you could unleash your plan on me.” She laughed. “You should consider using your powers to do good,” I suggested.

  She stood. “I’ll consider it. I better go. It’s almost dark. How long do you stay out here?”

  I shrugged. “Until I get tired of it.”

  She left, bidding me a good night.

  I looked at the house down the street. Maybe they were right. What was the harm in my moving on? Holly was gone. I couldn’t expect myself to continue to mope after her forever. It wasn’t fair to expect that of myself.

  3 Bernie

  My head felt like it was splitting open. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw open the door to the medicine cabinet. Bottles tumbled out and fell loudly into the sink. I said some bad words as I fumbled through the bottles until I found what I was looking for.

  I thumped a couple of pills into my hand and set the bottle on the counter without replacing the lid. Who cared? I turned on the water. I threw the pills in my mouth and bent over, drinking water straight from the faucet.

  I kicked some dirty clothes out of the way and walked to the toilet. Without lifting the lid, I pissed, getting some on the seat. I knew as I was doing it, I wasn’t going to wipe it off. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time the toilet had been cleaned. But who cared?

  I went to the kitchen to grab something to eat. My gut was growling.

  I stood at the sink, holding a slice of pizza left over from a couple of days ago. I flicked a cockroach off it and took a bite. It wasn’t bad. Kind of stale. It didn’t matter to me. I didn’t care what it tasted like. I could’ve been eating cardboard and I wouldn’t have cared. Food had long ago lost all flavor and appeal to me.

  I looked out the window at the broad next door. I’d watched her make a few trips in and out of her house yesterday, and even watched her go down the street to that loser Owen’s house. I wanted her. It was just a matter of time until I had her.

  I picked up a can from the counter and shook it to see if it was empty. I heard liquid sloshing inside so I drank it. It was a very flat, warm soda. As I drank, I felt a floating roach brush against my lips. It must’ve drowned in the soda. I made sure not to swallow it as I drank, but I wouldn’t have cared much if I had.

  I watched the broad pushing her brats on the swing set in the back yard. Noisy little bastards, they were. But I could put up with it if it meant getting some of the mother. I’d crawl through burning embers on my gut, naked, if it meant I could get some of her. She wasn’t like the women I usually brought home. They were just bar whores, used up and past their prime. She was in her prime, and didn’t appear to be used up. Yet. It was only a matter of time until I had her.

  Of course, if things worked out between us, I don’t know what I’d do about those stupid kids. Maybe their father would take them. The last thing I needed or wanted was a couple of snot-nosed heathens running around my house. I didn’t have the patience for that sort of thing. All I wanted was her. I wanted to do things to her that you couldn’t tell other people about even if you were in prison. Things that I’d been dreaming of doing to somebody, anybody. Her moving in next door was meant to be. It was almost like she was asking me to do it to her.

  Watching her now, I was pretty sure she was inviting me over. Her shorts were short. Her top was tight. Yeah, she was asking for it, alright.

  I decided that perhaps later tonight, after all the nosy bastards on this street went to sleep, I’d slip over to her place and give her a little bit of ol’ Bernie Bear.

  4 Owen

  I rang the doorbell at Carla’s house and hoped she answered quickly, leaving me no chance to change my mind. It had taken me two days to convince myself of what I’d known all along. After mulling over Jill’s words, I realized that she was right. It was time. But I still wasn’t sure I should be here. Even if this was the right time and the right thing to do, was this the right person? Maybe I should just go home and forget the whole thing.

  Before I could talk myself into turning and leaving, Carla threw open the door and smiled.

  “Hey. Come in,” she said happily, standing back so I could enter. After she closed the door behind me, she asked, “What’s up?”

  I looked down at her and tried not to notice how sexy she looked, though she wasn’t trying. She hadn’t meant to look sexy this morning when she’d thrown on a t-shirt with faded writing, or when she’d slid into a pair of faded jean shorts. And I’m sure she’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail in a hurry, not realizing how sexy it was that some wisps of hair had fallen loose.

  “I wanted to stop by and see if you needed help with anything. You know how movers can be. They throw it in the house, you move it yourself later.”

  She laughed. “That’s true. They were great, though. They put everything where I told them to. I wish they’d stuck around and unpacked for me. That’s what I’ve been doing all day.” She began walking away, asking, “You want something to drink? I just made some lemonade. The kids’ favorite.”

  I followed her into the kitchen, where she poured two glasses of lemonade and set them on the table. We sat and drank.

  “So where are the kids?” I asked.

  “They’re out back playing on the swing set. They love it here. In Dallas, we lived in an apartment, so they didn’t have a yard. Even if we had, it would’ve been too dangerous for them to be out by themselves like this. It’s nice to be able to relax and not worry so much about them. I think they like the extra freedom too. It’s all I can do to get them to come in at night.”

  “Yeah, it’s definitely more relaxed here.”

  Neither of said anything for a few minutes. I noticed that even without makeup, she was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen.

  Finally, she asked, “What do you do?”

  “I own a construction business.”

  “Are you on vacation or something? I mean, it’s the middle
of a work day.” She smiled. “I know it’s not my business and I don’t want to be nosy...”

  “No. It’s fine. I don’t go into work anymore. I used to, but I haven’t been in to the office in about a year now. If there’s anything I need to do, I do it from home.” I hadn’t been to work since Holly left. I couldn’t stand the questions or the pity that I would receive there. To change the subject and because I wanted to know, I asked, “What about you?”

  “Well, in Dallas, I was a secretary. But now, Aunt Elaine left me healthy amount of money. I think I’m going to stay at home with the kids for a while. See what that’s like.” She smiled at me, and I got chills. Funny how I could get chills when my heart had been warmed. “What about the other people on this street? What do they do?” She put her elbow on the table, folded her hand into a fist, and rested her chin on it.

  I leaned back in my chair. “Well, let’s see. There’s Andy and Jill. They live on this side of me. Andy’s my best friend. They’re both really great people. Jill’s a librarian, and Andy works at a factory over in the Industrial Park. His crew works swing shift.”

  “Swing shift? What’s that?”

  “He works two weeks on the day shift and two weeks on the night shift. It’s weird, but he likes it.”

  “He’s the red-haired guy?”

  “Yeah. Jill’s the short, blond. They look mismatched, but trust me when I say that they’re perfect for each other.”

  “Do they have any kids?”

  I shook my head. I could see the disappointment on her face. She was hoping for playmates for her children, naturally. I hadn’t realized until now that there weren’t any children on Hewitt Street.

  “On my other side, is a retired chef named Louis. If you ever see him, you’ll know immediately who he is. He’s a large man. He’s not home much, though. He travels a lot, mostly abroad.” I got up and walked over to her pots and pans which were hanging above her island. I looked through them and pulled a large skillet from its hook. Holding it up to show her, I said, “This is his.”