Won't You Be My Neighbor?

by Vanessa Gray Bartal

  The peaceful silence was broken as Andy roused and began to cry, followed shortly by Rachael. “It’s okay,” Blair tried, but they were inconsolable.

  “Mommy!” they alternately screamed and wept, over and over.

  Blair had no idea what to do with them. She assumed Sully would be as clueless as she was; she assumed wrong. He bent and plucked Andy from the ground, sniffing his backside.

  “This one is ripe and needs changing.” He pointed at Rachael. “That one probably needs to go to the bathroom.”

  Rachael nodded through her tears.

  “Can we use yours?” Blair asked. “I don’t want to wake Tanya if I don’t have to.”

  “Sure,” Sully said, surprising her again with his easy agreement. He led the way inside, carrying a stinky Andy under one arm as if he routinely carried children. Blair took Rachael to the bathroom, taking special care to wash her hands and face after so much time spent with Gilly. When they emerged, Andy was no longer smelly.

  “I found a diaper from my collection,” Sully explained.

  “You have a diaper collection?” Blair said.

  “Not by choice. Stop looking at me like I’m a weirdo. My sister insists on leaving supplies here so she doesn’t have to cart them back and forth when she visits.”

  “You have a sister?” she asked.

  She didn’t understand his cryptic smile. “Are you disappointed that I wasn’t hatched from an egg like you thought?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” she said.

  “What can I say, Miss P? I’m a man of mystery. We should feed them, don’t you think?” He pointed at the kids who looked like they were on the verge of crying again.

  “I don’t suppose your sister left some kid-friendly food here,” Blair said.

  “Actually, she did.” He went to his cupboard and pulled down cheese crackers and raisins. “Add some cheese and sliced vegetables, and we have a full meal here.”

  “Tanya said they won’t eat vegetables,” Blair said.

  “Tanya has never learned the power of ranch dressing.”

  “Is that healthy?”

  “Eating veggies with ranch is healthier than no veggies at all, don’t you agree?”

  “I guess so,” she said. In truth, she had no idea what to feed children. Could they chew carrots? Sully seemed to think so. She deferred to him and hoped it wasn’t a mistake as she chopped the carrots into miniscule pieces. “Are these small enough?” She held one up for his inspection.

  “I don’t know. I can’t see through them yet. Can you make them a little more translucent?”

  She picked up the knife and he took it from her. “Kidding,” he said. “They look great. You’ve really never been around kids before, have you?”

  “Once in college, I went to McDonalds. The dining room was full, and I had to sit near the play area. I haven’t been near any since then.”

  “Sitting in the play area at McDonalds is enough to turn anyone off children forever,” Sully said.

  “Plates?” she asked.

  “That cabinet,” he said, pointing. He retrieved one of his books from med school and used it for Andy to sit on. Blair stood on her toes and still couldn’t reach the plates.

  “Short little thing, aren’t you?” he asked. He stood over her and pulled down the plates. “What’s on the top cabinet at your house?”

  “The heads of all the people who’ve called me short,” she said.

  “Really?” Rachael asked.

  Blair wanted to bite her tongue. “No, just some glasses that I never use.”

  “Oh,” Rachael said. She sounded disappointed.

  Blair arranged their food on plates while Sully poured the drinks. They set the plates before the kids and turned to each other.

  “That takes care of them,” Sully said. “What do you want?”

  “What do you have?” Blair asked.

  “Not much,” Sully said. “I’m not very good at keeping things on hand.”

  “What do you eat?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I always seem to eat something, but I don’t know what or how. Food has a way of finding me without my knowledge or approval.”

  “Do you mind if I look?” Blair asked.

  “Have at it,” Sully said.

  She opened the refrigerator and peered inside. He didn’t have much, but he had a few basics. “How do omelets sound?”

  “Impossible unless you’re intending to make them,” he said. “I don’t know how.”

  She pulled out the eggs and other various ingredients, set them on the counter, and made two omelets in short order. Sully stood by and watched as if he had never seen anyone cook before.

  “You’re a talented cook, Miss P. It’s a shame you don’t get the opportunity to do it more often.”

  “I’m not cooking for you every night,” she said.

  “That was so close to working,” he said.

  “In your dreams,” she replied.

  He didn’t tell her how close to the truth she was. This vision of her, the one standing in his kitchen flipping an omelet, was about to go beside the one of her in the nightgown. Both were equally appealing for very different reasons.

  The omelets finished. They sat to eat. Blair was congratulating herself on pulling it off, on dealing with the kids when she had never dealt with kids before. They ate quietly, like little cherubs. Then they finished eating and she realized they had merely been hungry and still half asleep because suddenly they were everywhere, all at once. Blair was only able to eat a few bites of her omelet before she was off and running, chasing kids down hallways, out of the bathroom, and plucking them off counters. At one point, Andy was climbing the dresser while Rachael was rooting in the bathroom cupboard. Sully was mysteriously absent during this time. At last he appeared, scooping Andy out of the laundry basket.

  “I finished my omelet,” he said in answer to her questioning look. “And yours. Good omelets, Miss P.” He tucked Andy under his arm like a football, grasped Rachael’s hand, and led the way outside. There he instituted a game that had all four of them picking dandelions and clover and sorting them into piles as they ran back and forth at a furious pace. The kids couldn’t stop laughing and neither could Blair. Gilly’s barks sounded suspiciously like laughter, too.

  Time slipped away without Blair’s notice. Sully held out his watch for her inspection. “I think it’s somebody’s bedtime.”

  “Mine?” she guessed. “Because I feel like it’s mine.”

  “No, no bed!” Andy protested.

  “We’re not tired,” Rachael said. She ruined the statement by ending it with a yawn.

  Blair’s confidence and good cheer fled again. How was she supposed to get them into bed? She turned pleading eyes on Sully. “I don’t suppose you would be willing to help with bedtime.”

  “Please, Sully,” Rachael chimed in. “Please, please, please.”

  “Pwease,” Andy added.

  “Since you all asked so nicely, I suppose,” Sully said.

  Blair couldn’t imagine that Tanya was still sleeping after all this time, but just in case, they tiptoed to the house. She learned from the dandelion game that anything could be accomplished by turning it into a game, so she made a show of having the kids tiptoe to the house. The house was silent. Blair faced a dilemma because Rachael and Andy’s bags were in Tanya’s room.

  Sully kept the kids in the living room while Blair sneaked in to retrieve their things. She returned and rifled through until she located pajamas, toothbrushes, and another diaper for Andy. She handed the diaper to Sully. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

  “I’ve never changed a diaper before,” she explained.

  “No time like the present,” he said.

  She glanced at Andy who was large for a toddler. “I should start smaller, I think. I’ll get the next baby who drops unexpectedly into my life.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” Sully said. He took the diaper. Blair watched while he de
ftly changed the diaper and had to admit she was impressed.

  “That was fast,” she said.

  “Loads of experience, no pun intended.”

  “How many kids does your sister have?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer. Instead he pulled the pajama shirt over Andy’s head and took the ponytail holder out of Rachael’s hair. “All set. Where are they going to sleep?”

  “They were going to sleep with Tanya. Now I don’t know.”

  “How about a slumber party in the living room?” Sully suggested.

  “On the floor?” Blair said.

  “Yay!” Rachael cried. “Please can we sleep on the floor, Blair? Please?”

  “You want to sleep on the floor?” she clarified.

  Rachael and Andy nodded their enthusiastic agreement.

  “I suppose,” Blair said. She really did not understand children. How could they possibly be excited about sloppy dog kisses, picking weeds, and sleeping on the cold, hard floor?

  “Yay!” Rachael said again. She jumped up and down a few times. Andy joined in, even though he only had a vague notion of why he was supposed to be excited.

  Blair retrieved blankets from the linen closet. Sully helped her arrange a makeshift bed on the floor. “You can only stay on the floor if you’re quiet and go to sleep,” Sully warned.

  Rachael nodded her solemn agreement. Andy was too busy playing with a loose string on his pajamas. “Are you going to be here tomorrow when we wake up, Sully?” Rachael asked.

  “I have to work,” Sully said. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow when I get home, if you’re still here.”

  “Okay,” Rachael said. “Can we have a story? Mommy always tells us a story.”

  “Sure, Blair will tell you a story,” Sully volunteered. Three pairs of eyes rested on Blair who scrambled to find a suitable story. She ended up telling the one about the three little pigs, embellishing the parts she couldn’t remember. The story ended; Sully and Blair faded from the room and stepped out onto the front porch.

  “I don’t remember a steamroller in the three little pigs’ story,” Sully said.

  “The wolf had asthma. What was he to do?” She closed the door, leaving a small gap so she could hear the kids if they called. “Thanks for your help tonight, Surly. I would have been lost without you.”

  “You would have figured it out. You were getting the hang of things there at the end.”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea what to do with children.”

  “You need practice.” There was only a soft glow from the porch light, but she thought his eyes were twinkling.

  “That’s probably true, but hanging around places where children congregate and asking their parents if I can take them home to practice awhile doesn’t seem like a good idea. I guess I’m doomed to be out of practice until the next time Andy and Rachael visit. And then they might not be kids anymore. Tanya and I haven’t seen each other in nine years.”

  He was smiling again like he had a secret.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing, I was thinking of something else. Tonight was fun, Miss P, not that I want to repeat it. I like my life quiet and simple. But an occasional bout of children livens things up.”

  “An occasional bout of children. You make them sound like a disease.”

  “Aren’t they? You get them from contact with another person. Doesn’t that count as a disease?”

  Blair looked away, blushing. “I’m uncomfortable with the line of this conversation.”

  “So am I. I get uncomfortable every time women and children are in a sentence together. No, thank you.” He shuddered.

  She didn’t understand how he could be so good with children and yet not want them. If she had a natural inclination with children like he did, then she would probably want some. Wouldn’t she? Why didn’t he? There was a gaping hole in her knowledge about Sully. Some vital piece of information was missing, but she didn’t know how to get it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. They were as close as she knew how to be with someone. That thought was so surprising that she stared off into the distance, trying to process it.

  “I’ve lost you,” he said. “Don’t tell me I offended you with my talk of kids and my desire not to have any.”

  She shook her head. “I was thinking of something else.” Namely her odd friendship with him and the way it had taken her by surprise. How was it possible that her curmudgeon of a neighbor was the closest friend she had? She had never been friends with a man before. Until now, she hadn’t known it was possible. She assumed it was either all or nothing—either romance or no contact. Finding out there was a pleasant middle ground was like receiving an unexpected present.

  She smiled her delight, beaming up at him. He froze. “You’re not actually developing baby fever, are you?”

  “I want dozens,” she said. She was sure he would know she was joking, but he took a step back, a horrified expression on his face.

  “What?” he said.

  “Babies. I want dozens. It’s happened; I’ve succumbed.”

  “You’re joking, right?” he asked. He had turned a shade paler. She shouldn’t tease him anymore, but it was so hard to get a reaction out of him that she couldn’t help herself.

  “I’ll have a dozen biologically, and then I’ll adopt. These last few hours with my friend’s children have changed my life. Who cares about privacy and quiet time? Babies! That’s what I want.”

  “You’re joking,” he said, drawing at the words as if he still wasn’t sure. Blair didn’t let her expression give anything away. If he could deliver a joke deadpan, then so could she. “Tell me you’re joking and put me out of my misery here.”

  “With the advances in modern technology, I don’t need a man to be part of the process, but it would mean a lot to me if you could be a father figure for my dozens of children. Which do you prefer? Surly or Uncle Surly?”

  “You’re joking,” he decided at last. “You shouldn’t joke about stuff like that. You could give a man a heart attack.”

  “Clearly this is a sore subject for you. I plan to have a lot more fun with that.”

  He reached out and tweaked a wisp of her hair. “Just remember that turnabout is fair play, Miss P.”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” she said.

  “You should be. Retribution will come when you least expect it.”

  “I’m shaking,” she said. She held out her steady hand for his inspection. He stared at it, raised his hand as if he was going to touch it, then thought better of it and took another step back.

  “I should go. Thanks for the omelets. Goodnight.” With a cursory nod, he took another step back before turning to dash toward his house. Blair watched him go, trying and failing to figure out what the last part of their encounter had been about. He went inside his house and closed his door. Blair gave up and went in her own house. There was no figuring Sully, she decided. The man was an enigma.

  Chapter 11

  The next morning, Blair heard someone in her kitchen. At first she thought she had another burglar, but what burglar sticks around to make breakfast? Then she remembered the two children she had left peacefully sleeping in her living room and darted to the kitchen to see what mayhem they might be causing.

  She found Andy and Rachael sitting peacefully at the table while Tanya rooted in the cupboards. She turned to Blair and her face crumpled as if she might cry again. “Oh, Blair, I’m so sorry. I win the award for worst houseguest ever. I didn’t mean to sleep that long—I thought I would take a twenty minute nap and feel better. Instead I slept for eighteen hours. I feel horrible. I’ve never done anything like that before at someone’s house. Please forgive me.” She clasped her hands under her chin and made puppy dog eyes.

  “Forget about it,” Blair said. “You were exhausted. What can I make for breakfast?”

  “Don’t,” Blair said. “I found the waffles again.” She pulled out the waffles and handed one to each of her children. “Want one?”
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  Blair shook her head.

  Tanya plucked a waffle for herself before tucking the box back into the freezer. “This is going to come out wrong, but you know tact isn’t my thing and you know I don’t mean anything by it, so I’m just going to say it.” Tanya sat across from Blair, her waffle held in front of her like a microphone. “I can’t believe you took care of my kids all day yesterday. That’s amazing. Frankly, Blair, I didn’t know you had it in you. You’re full of surprises lately.”

  “They were really good,” Blair said.

  Tanya looked at the tops of her kids’ heads. “Them?”

  Blair nodded. “We played. It was fun.”

  “You played? And I slept through it? How is that possible?”

  “We played at the neighbor’s house,” Blair said.

  “With Gilly and Sully,” Rachael added. “Can we see Gilly today?”

  “Who are Gilly and Sully?” Tanya asked. “They sound like a circus routine.” She took a bite of waffle as she waited for Blair’s answer.

  “Sully is my neighbor and Gilly is his dog,” Blair said.

  Tanya choked on her waffle and stood to retrieve a glass of water. “You have a boyfriend?” she said when she could talk.

  “No, it’s not like that at all,” Blair said.

  “Is he old?” Tanya asked. A hint of pity crept into her tone, whether for Blair or for the imagined elderly neighbor, Blair didn’t know.

  “He’s thirty five.”

  “Married?”

  Blair shook her head.

  “Ugly?” Tanya tried.

  “Tanya!” Blair exclaimed.

  Tanya shrugged. “Why else wouldn’t you be dating him? You’re living next door to an eligible male who isn’t ugly, and yet you say you’re just friends. What gives?”

  “Neither of us is the dating or marrying type,” Blair said.

  “What type is that? Dead? Because there’s no other reason not to hook up and procreate.”

  Blair put her hands over her face and looked down. “I forgot your complete lack of a filter. We are not going to hook up,” she whispered the words even though the kids had no idea what the term meant and had already heard it from their mother. “And as for procreating,” she dropped her voice to a hiss again, “do I seem like the type of woman who should have children?”