Love Thy Neighbor

by Dellwood, Janna

  Well, now the distressing true answer came to light: she wasn't ugly on the outside; she was ugly on the inside.

  Janna went into the kitchen, opened the freezer, and pulled out a pint of Rocky Road. It would take the troubles away, even if just for a little while.

  Then she got a spoon from a drawer. Then she started eating.

  ***

  While his neighbor gorged herself with ice cream, Baron stood under the shower head in the tub of his upstairs bathroom, letting the steady stream of warm water splash against his face. Nothing else could feel better. He could have stayed in here all day, letting the steam wrap him in a misty, formless cocoon. It took his mind off his thoughts—except those of Janna. She was at the forefront still, a nice young woman who had probably lived a rough, rocky life in an unfamiliar town he still knew very little about. Coming here had been his sister's idea, in the first place. This was a place where he could, like Janna wanted to do, get away and move on. For different reasons, similar reasons, identical reasons. Wasn't it all the same? Sometimes people and certain locations didn't go well together. You either moved, dealt with it, or succumb to it.

  ***

  One pint of Rocky Road gone. A doughnut was now caught trapped between two sets of teeth. The pastry was consequently ripped apart by incisors, chewed and devoured.

  Janna was full but continued to eat anyway. It distracted her from Laura and the way she'd rolled her eyes. The way she'd sped down the street. The stern tone of her smoker's voice. Everything about the woman.

  The Crispy Cream made Baron's apparition flutter, fade, come to the brink of nonexistence. But when the doughnuts were gone, he solidified in her mind, a hard, heavy imprint impossible to ignore. Goaway! (those eyes) Goaway! (that laugh) Goaway! (those dimples).

  Janna went on to eat waffles, eggs, sausage links... she had to stop after the banana, because her stomach refused to let any more in. By tomorrow, she figured, she'd gain a good ten or fifteen pounds. On top of that, she thought, it'd be a miracle if she didn't end up with diabetes. And her other aunt, Jill Kieser, would no longer be the reigning heavyweight champ of the family.

  Her stomach gravid with junk food, she plopped down on the couch and shut her eyes, tried to go back to sleep.

  ***

  Baron dressed in his best attire: a sky-blue button-up untouched by a single wrinkle, navy Dockers, black dress shoes. He gazed at himself in his full-length bedroom mirror with a despondent, lost expression on his face. His whole stance gave off a despondent vibe. Going to the job interview was not something he wanted to do today. One had to work to live though, right? It would be over soon enough—however, Amy, his sister, had insisted he hang out with her and her friends at a local pub. That was something he wanted to do even less. But he'd promised to go, and if it made Amy happy, he could live with that. He just didn't know if he could live without a nap or stay sane with Janna's haunting memory on his mind.

  I was an ass for falling out of that chair, avoiding her kiss like it was death.

  While he waited for his sister to come pick him up, he went to the living room and collapsed on the blue leather sofa, where he let his thoughts and need for sleep battle out to see which of the two would win.

  ***

  Janna lay on her black suede sofa, one arm behind the headrest, the other hanging over the edge. Sunlight (the storm had passed by) streamed in through the bow window, illuminating every particle of air-born dust in the room and illuminating her face in pinprick patterns.

  I shouldn't have tried to kiss him. He wasn't ready. You were too ready, you dummy. That's my problem, I couldn't hold back. I wanted it too much—so much, I probably screwed up a great relationship with a potentially great guy. Stupid!

  Some things could be fixed; other things could not. Sure, she had invited Ben back with ease, but Baron? He wouldn't be so easy. That would be a challenge. Besides, what relationship was she talking about? You build that after months of getting to know someone... not mere days. The man could have had any number skeletons in his closet: alcoholism, drug use, embezzlement, theft, domestic abuse, a violent temper. He could be worse than Ben in certain ways. He could have issues she didn't want to know about.

  But she highly doubted it. What sociopath avoided a kiss, of all things? No, sociopaths would have accepted the kiss, then tried to take advantage of her, whether she wanted to give it up or not. Baron was a gentleman—a polite, easygoing gentleman trying to heal from a bad breakup.

  And I opened the wound further...

  ***

  There were two beeeeeeps one right after another, so close together they sounded rehearsed. One was sharp and whiny; the other was low and guttural.

  Janna got up off the couch. Baron got up off his.

  A Honda sat parked curbside by Baron's house, and Laura's Audi sat parked directly across the street. Both women turned, glanced at each other, wondering if the other was mocking her. They both held the same facial expression: what the hell you doing?

  Two front doors opened simultaneously. Janna stepped out of one, Baron the other. The halted before going to their intended vehicle, looked up, and their eyes met, held. Laura sprouted a smile as she realized her niece was obviously smitten with the boy next door. Amy turned to and from Baron and Janna with her eyebrows furrowed like Gollum's in Lord of the Rings. Long seconds passed.

  “Today, Janna?” Laura barked at her.

  Baron jogged down his porch steps and went to his sister's car. His hand reached for the handle, but his eyes remained glued to his neighbor. Then, as if the words were being put into him by some other force (I hope I know what I'm doing), he spoke: “Hey. Would you like to come over later, Janna? Maybe have a drink with me? Around eight?”

  Laura turned from him and back to Janna. Amy watched Baron's next door neighbor close, not liking the way she was looking at her brother. He's got enough problems! Lying, cheating, floozy girls being one of them!

  She knew how bad it had been for him when Rachel had left him. She didn't want to see him go through that again, especially here and now with some total stranger.

  Janna responded: “Sure, I'd like that.”

  “Baron, who's this girl?” Amy said, trying to hide her words like a ventriloquist. He didn't answer her, he just got into the car. “Well? Who's she?”

  “Just a friend.”

  “A friend?”

  “Look, it's not what you think.”

  “I sure as hell hope not. I don't think you should see her—“ She pulled out, and he and his sister continued their conversation as she drove.

  Janna went to the Audi parked by the large oak in front of her house.

  “So, that's your new neighbor, huh?” Laura joked.

  “Yeah.” Janna opened the trunk, took out a few bags of grocery's.

  “Well? Did you do it with him?” She lit up a cigarette. Janna ignored the question, thought better of it—if I don't answer now, I'll never hear the end of it—and replied: “No, we're just getting to know each other.”

  Laura raised and lowered her eyebrows twice. “He's a hottie. Well, chat with ya later, babe. They didn't have your tea today, so I got you tea bags instead.”

  Yuck, Janna thought. I'd rather drink warm piss than that. “Okay, thanks.”

  “See ya. Love ya!”

  “Love you too. Bye, Laura.”

  The woman flicked an ash out the window, put her car in drive, and drove away. With bags full of food in her hands, she reentered her humble home.

  ***

  Eight.

  Eight o' clock she would see him, drink with him, talk to him. She just hoped this wasn't some kind of guilt thing he had to do in order to make himself feel better. Either way, it was a chance to learn more about him, get to know him better. That was what she wanted.

  Janna didn't know if she could wait four and a half hours. What was there to do until then? Watch TV? Read? Sleep? Eat? All the usuals. If she didn't keep her mind busy, she was sure she'd lose it along the
way. It'd probably shrivel up in anticipation before then. Eating took only minutes, so that wouldn't occupy her time. If she slept, she'd wake up exhausted and a bore. Reading would only increase the anticipation, as the only literature she had in her house was romance novels. TV it is!

  Her thumb hit power, and the Insignia clicked on. 47 was the station it was already turned to, and on it was one of her all-time favorite movies—Sleepless in Seattle. Janna had drained tissues from boxes while watching this flick many times. It never failed to make her cry.

  Time did pass, slowly but surely. The movie stirred a hundred different bottled-up feelings inside her as she watched it for the millionth time. Tears came, went, came, went. At 6:56, it was over.

  An hour to make myself up before I head over...

  She decided to put the essentials on and leave the rest alone.

  Janna put on a red dress, which accentuated her curvy figure. The dress made her breasts look much bigger than they really were, made her ass look a little less sloppy (more firm), and hugged the rest of her like a glove. On to the bathroom now...

  She brushed her thick brown hair—her favorite feature. Of course, hair wasn't pale, didn't gain weight, and wasn't unsymmetrical—unless that's what you asked from your stylist. Next, she applied lipstick, brushed on a dab of rouge, darkened her eyes just a tad. In ten minutes she was pleased with the job she'd done. This make-up job was more subtle than the last. Now she looked elegant and pretty, not cheap and easy. Couldn't remember the last time she looked so good.

  ***

  Eight o' clock came. Janna Dellwood went. She left the comfort and safety of her house and walked over to Baron's in stiletto heels, her heart a bass drum hammering in her ears. Oh my oh my oh my. Without knocking, she watched the door open. Baron first glanced at her chest, then her legs, then her face, in one awkward high-to-low low-to-high glance.

  “I hope I'm not overdressed.”

  “No, not at all.”

  “I saw you leave all dressed up, so I decided I should come over not looking like a bum.” She chuckled. He laughed. There was a Rolling Rock in his right hand and a bowl of popcorn in his left. The same clothes he was wearing earlier still clothed him, but two of the top buttons on his shirt were now open.

  “Come in, come in.”

  She stepped into his house.

  It smelled of popcorn and cologne. Most of the lights were off, but much of the luminosity of the outside streetlamps found their way in through various windows, illuminating an elliptical staircase, a small kitchen toward the right, around a bend in the narrow hall, and the living room on the left.

  “I just made some popcorn and started watching a movie.”

  “Which one?”

  “Argo.”

  She nodded, smiled. “Cool.”

  He shut the door. “Want a drink? I have cola, diet cola, tea, coffee, and:” He held up his Rolling Rock.

  “No thanks. Not thirsty right now.”

  “Okay. Just let me know if you change your mind.”

  He led her into the living room. It was rectangular—it made her think of the inside of a trailer—with cream-colored walls, old hardwood floors like her own, and normal ceilings—not the crappy hanging tile-types in hers. Moving boxes filled with stuff were cluttered everywhere.

  “Didn't quite unpack yet. I don't know what's in which box.”

  They went over to his sofa and sat down, Janna on the end and Baron two cushions away.

  “Popcorn?”

  “No thanks.” She watched TV, afraid to look into his eyes.

  “Well, I don't think I got the job.”

  “Job?”

  “Yeah. My sister set it up. I tell ya, she babies me worse than my mother used to. I don't think I even wanted the job.”

  “What was it?”

  “Decent co-manager position at Falton Marketing. Pays well, and I went to school for it, but learned to hate it after a while.”

  “Really?” She turned away from the TV and looked at him. The heartpound in her ears sounded like a drum machine for a metal band.

  Don't make any moves, she told herself.

  Her attention turned back to the TV.

  “Yeah, I just figured I couldn't live as a marketer, behind a desk for the rest of my life. Why I was interested in the first place is beyond me. My family didn't force me into it, but I think they wanted me to be in business/marketing.”

  “What do you want to do for a living?”

  He shrugged, threw a piece of popcorn into his mouth, and chased it down with beer. “Who knows? Does anybody know what they want?”

  There was eerie silent as he let this question linger in the room. It made Janna slightly uncomfortable. What's that supposed to mean?

  “Have you seen this before?” he wondered.

  “No, looked good though. It's based on a true story, isn't it?” She continued to avoid eye-contact with him. He glanced down at her bountiful chest and suddenly thought of his ex-fiance and her breasts.

  Then he looked at Janna's face, and the thought of Rachel went away. A minute later, that old ghost went where it belonged: in the past. The present was all that mattered now, the future an uncertain brink.

  Another sip of Rolling Rock found its way down his throat. This was his fourth beer of the night.

  “You like romantic movies?” he guessed.

  She smiled. Her pouty lips reminded him of Scarlett Johanson's, the most attractive woman in Hollywood, according to him.

  But Janna's looked even better. Because he was buzzed? Because she was made-up? That lipstick looked enticing enough to devour.

  “I actually watched my favorite romantic movie today. Sleepless in Seattle?”

  “Yeah! With Tom Hanks and... and...”

  “M—“

  “Ah! Don't tell me. Meg Ryan!”

  She laughed. There was exuberance and sexiness in that laugh.

  Baron glanced down at where her crotch would be had her dress not covered it, but quickly looked away, shaking the thought away. Those weren't the thoughts or urges nice guys supposed to have. Janna deserved better than that. She needed love. Compassion. Someone to understand her thoughts and feelings. Someone to treat her like a lady.

  He couldn't seem to take his eyes off her; she couldn't seem to keep her eyes off the TV. She wasn't watching the movie though—he could tell. Every once in a while her eyes flicked sideways. The tension basically fumed from her. Her body heat warmed him.

  “Do you like romantic movies?” she asked, her face cemented forward.

  “Some, yeah. Ever see The Notebook?”

  “Definitely! I have that on DVD. You a Titanic fan?”

  “That's a great flick, too. So sad when Leo drowned.”

  “Oh my God, tell me about it! I cried so much I thought I was going to die of dehydration!”

  He burst out laughing, the bowl of popcorn on his lap almost falling over. A little beer sloshed its way out of the bottle neck. A large drop landed on Janna's left thigh.

  “Oops. I'm sorry,” he said. “That was just funny.”

  She wiped away the drop of booze. Then her eyes connected with his, and the heart hammering in her ears seemed to silence. The noise coming from the TV speakers died out. Her lips changed from smile to serious, from play to wow. He forgot about the beer in his hand, the bowl on his lap. Both items fell to the floor. He couldn't control it anymore. He went in for the attack. Is this right? Is this okay to do? Am I—

  Baron lurched forward, grabbed her face with his hands, and pulled her head toward his. Their lips touched, mashed together for what could have been a second or an eon. Janna felt herself melt away, felt tears sting her eyes. This was her first kiss all over again. She didn't want it to end. Baron felt a bulge against the inside of his zipper. Rachel ceased to exist. He realized he didn't need her anymore. One door closed; another was starting to open.

  Their kiss went on, each pair of lips nibbling at each other. Tears streamed down her face and drippe
d off her jawline. She'd been missing this—missing out—all along. But maybe this was why she'd been waiting so long. Perhaps this was the guy she had been holding out for.

  She began to moan softly, unable to keep quiet any longer. It felt soooo good. It felt even better when he slipped his tongue between her lips and into her mouth. She did the same with her tongue. Just when he went to pull away, she grabbed his shoulders and held on. His penis, he was sure, would pop the button off his pants the way a thumb popped the cork from a bottle. That's when he went further.

  Baron leaned on her, his weight pushing her down on her back. His hand grabbed and squeezed her left thigh. Her moans became louder, and she, for a moment, directed his hand further upward, just under her dress toward her panties. With his other hand, he squeezed her right breast. Nipple felt like a pinpoint. They both wanted this... wanted this more than words could express.

  They continued to make out, grabbing different parts of the other's anatomy. Janna pulled away from the long, incessant kiss, lost in this escapade of passion. She felt past the normal boundary of 'close' to him. She loved him right now. And that scared her—beyond the boundary of normal fear. What if he didn't feel the same? What if he was just taking advantage of her? What if this, to him, was just a one-night stand? What if she would get hurt again? What if he broke her heart worse than Ben had?

  All the stored-up sexual energy flowed out of her instantly. For as much as she wanted to take him, she now wanted to get away before anything really happened... and his hand was dangerously close to her love spot.

  “Wait. Quit. Stop. I can't... do this. It's not. Right. I gotta go!”

  She squirmed out from under him, stood up. He fell over on his side on the couch, befuddled. “What? Janna, I thought that's what you wanted! You were... we were... I don't understand!”

  She burst into tears. The way she looked as she cried melted a piece of Baron's heart. Broke another part of it.

  “I gotta go!” She backed away, staring at him as if she needed his permission to leave. “I know what you'll do to me. You'll leave me. You'll abandon me. I can't have that!”

  She turned and ran off, the sound of her sobs painful to Baron's ears. He heard the door open and close. Then her sobs ceased, but not in his memory. They would end up hurting him all night.