The Neighbors

Chapter 1

~Six Months Later~

“Mommy.”

“Mommy!”

“MOMMY!” Aurora's voice startled me. I must have dozed off again while nursing the baby.

“What, Rory?” I answered while stifling a yawn.

“The Fletchers are moving!” Aurora jumped on my lap, almost squishing her sleeping sister.

“I know, lovey. I told you they were moving,” I reminded her.

“But mommy, they're moving right now!” Aurora insisted.

I stood up, laid Rachael down in her pack 'n play and looked out the window. Sure enough, a huge moving truck had parked outside our neighbors' house and the movers were already quickly loading the truck with boxes and furniture.

“Go get Gracie. We can watch them pack up the truck. She needs to get up from her nap anyway.”

Aurora was gone in a flash and came back dragging sleepy-eyed Grace behind her.

“Mommy said we can watch the movers pack up the truck,” Aurora said excitedly.

Grace settled in my lap and said, “Dooce, mama.”

“Rory, will you please get Gracie's sippy cup from the fridge?”

As soon as Gracie had her juice, we sat contentedly and watched the movers through the living room window. It's amazing how easy it is to entertain small children.

I was happy to have some time to snuggle with my girls. It had been a crazy six months, trying to adjust to having three children, returning to work as a real estate agent, and going through divorce proceedings.

Eric had left as soon as I told him I was filing for divorce. I was relieved, but at the same time, it was disturbing that he also seemed relieved. I mean, we clearly had ended a long time ago, and I no longer cared how he felt about me. But he hardly even flinched when he met his newborn daughter for the first time. He didn't even seem emotional when he said good-bye to the girls. I've struggled so much with the fact that he really didn't seem attached to the kids at all, his very own flesh and blood. As passionately as I loved my girls, I hated the fact that they didn't have a daddy.

In fact, I stopped referring to him as Daddy when Aurora was very small. I was torn apart over the fact that he wasn't acting like a daddy and I felt that he didn't deserve that special title. I simply called him “Dad” or “your father,” when I spoke about him to the girls, which wasn't very often. Technically, he still lived with us until I filed for divorce, but he was almost never home. And I say that without exaggeration. We might catch sight of him once a week, but most of the time he was out until two or three in the morning, got up at six and went to work and then didn't return until the wee hours again. I stopped asking where he was going because I stopped caring.

Aurora and Grace experienced some mild behavior changes after he left. They had trouble sleeping at night, sometimes waking up with nightmares. They became more clingy with me and never wanted to be left with a sitter, or even with my parents. They knew something major had changed, and I had explained it the best I could.

Their disturbances didn't last long, however; yet another testimony to how little their father had actually been involved in their lives.

As the girls watched the activity next door, Rory suddenly said, “I'm gonna miss the Fletchers.”

“They're nice people aren't they?” I agreed, although I found her nostalgia strange. The Fletchers were two elderly sisters who had lived in the house since the 1970's and now they were moving to an assisted living community in the twin cities. They knew my girls and brought little cards and candies to them on their birthdays or other special occasions. They brought us a feast when Rachael was born, along with about ten dozen cookies, most of which I froze, so we ended up eating them throughout the last six months. I would never say that my girls were incredibly close to the Fletcher sisters, but Aurora was apparently grieving over the change of something that had been a constant in her short life.

As if her own emotions were suddenly stirred for our sweet old neighbors, Grace parroted, “Miss Fwetchers.”

I squeezed both my girls. “Won't it be fun to see who moves in next door? Maybe they'll have some little girls to play with.” At the mention of this possibility, my girls got up and started dancing and squealing.

I reminded them, “I said maybe, girls. It might be some more elderly people.”

“Then they can bring us cookies!” Aurora shrieked, and Grace did, too.

I laughed and squeezed her. “You goof!” I giggled. I felt better about her apparent sadness over our neighbors leaving; maybe it was really fueled by her love of cookies.

When I went to work the following week, I checked the MLS listings to find out which agent was listing the house next door. I already knew it was listed by Re/Max Eastside, which pretty much had the monopoly on houses in my neighborhood. I had a pretty good idea which agent was offering the property. After a few clicks, my suspicions were confirmed: none other than Kelly Clampett. Kelly and I went to high school together, and she was always viciously competitive. I had worked at Stillwell Real Estate Agency for eight years, and I'm sure Kelly had sold twice as many houses as I had, but I didn't necessarily feel the same level of ambition to “win” at the real estate game.

Despite our good natured rivalry, we had been friends for a long time, so I decided to give her a quick call.

She picked up on the first ring, which is pretty unusual for any busy real estate agent.

“Hi Kelly, this is Lise. How are you doing?”

"Hey, Lise, nice to hear from you. What's up?”

“I see you're listing 2298 Lockewood Drive in River Haven. Make sure you sell it to an upstanding citizen,” I laughed. “That's right next door to my house.”

“Oh, I already sold that house! We're closing quite soon, actually.” She chirped. “He's a British gentleman, quite charming and good-looking. He's here on a contract with Stepworth Technologies for five years, so I think he'll be fine neighbor. And, hey, maybe you two will get acquainted,” she said with a little teasing in her voice.

“Oh, I, uh, don't know-” I stumbled over my words.

“I'm sorry, Lise, it wasn't right for me to say that. I heard about Eric and I'm really sorry. I would love for you to find some happiness, but that was inappropriate. I apologize.”

“No, problem, Kelly. I'm glad you know. It's hard to have to keep telling everyone that I'm getting a divorce. It's a relief when people already know so I don't have to explain the when, where, and why.”

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” Kelly encouraged me.

“Okay, Kelly, thanks. And let me know if you need any inside information on the house next door. I'm sure the Fletchers were honest about everything, but of course, I know it with a realtor's eyes.”

“Thanks, Lise. Keep in touch, okay?”

“Sure thing. 'Bye.”

When I got home from work, I told the girls there would be no kids moving in next door and no cookie-baking old ladies. They seemed a little sad, but then Aurora asked, “Who is it then, Mommy?”

“Oh, he's from England,” I enthused. “That means he'll talk like this,” I said, putting on my best British accent.

Aurora giggled and tried to mimic the accent, “Like this, Mommy?”

"Yes, exactly like that, darling. Maybe he will come over and join us for afternoon tea and crumpets,” I said, making the girls laugh crazily.

"Whas a cwumpet?” Grace asked.

I laughed. “I honestly don't know, honey, but I'm sure he'll be a very nice neighbor.”