The Neighbors

Chapter 7

As the summer wore on, I was swamped with houses to sell and clients wanting to buy. I ended up working almost as much as Harold, which was fine because I knew that the harder I worked, the more commission I could make and the more time I could spend with my kids in the fall when business died down.

That, and I didn't have much time to brood about our awkward date.

On one of my free days, I decided to make cookies with the girls. I put Rachael in the backpack and Grace and Aurora climbed up to the table. I gave them each a few utensils and ingredients and I instructed them carefully on how to put each item into the mixing bowl. Once we had most of the ingredients in, I stirred the mixture thoroughly.

I gave the girls each a handful of chocolate chips to throw into the dough. “Ready, set, go!” I yelled, and then “It's raining chocolate chips!” The girls giggled at the idea of chocolate chip rain. I gave them each a few chocolate morsels to munch on. I bit one in half and stuffed it into Rachael's mouth, knowing it would keep her happy for several minutes.

After I had put the first batch of cookies into the oven, I asked, “Rory, can you please get out the big, blue box?” The big blue box was my favorite piece of Tupperware. Yes, I was so domesticated that I actually had a favorite piece of Tupperware.

“I can't see it, Mommy,” Aurora said.

“Just keep looking, lovey,” I told her. “I know it's in that cupboard.”

“It's not, Mommy!” Aurora insisted, close to tears.

“Oh, Rory, you don't have to cry. I'll look for it, lovey.” But when I went to search for it, I couldn't find it either. I racked my brain trying to remember when I last used it.

Then I remembered. I had used it to bring some bread over to Harold a few weeks back. I assumed that he wouldn't be home at this time of day, but when I looked out the window, I saw his red Lexus parked in the driveway.

“Girls, I'm going to go to Mr. Styles' house real quick. I forgot that I let him borrow the big blue box, so I'm going to get it back. Would you like to come with me?”

“Yes!!!” They cheered. They hadn't seen Harold in several days, and they were pining away for his company.

We walked over and rang the doorbell. Harold answered quickly and gave us a cool but cordial smile.

“Yes?” He simply said, in a way that seemed almost snobbish, like we were door-to-door salesmen or something.

“Hi Mr. Styles!” The girls chirped.

“Hello, girls,” he said, keeping the same cool tone of voice and not engaging them with any further smiles or hugs like he would normally do.

“I need to get my Tupperware from you,” I told him, not wanting to prolong the awkwardness.

“Oh, yes,” he said, disappearing from the from the doorway and returning quickly with the container. He didn't even invite us to step inside.

“Thanks,” I said, receiving the box from him. The girls and I turned to leave, but I turned back quickly and said, “Please stop by some time. We'd like to see you.”

“Thank you,” he said. “But it tends to be a bit cold at your house.”

I couldn't miss the meaning behind his words as I walked home with the girls. By the time we reached our front door, I was seething.

Did he really just say that to me? Did he really just dis me? And my girls? Maybe my dad was right after all. Maybe I couldn't trust Harold as much as I thought I could.

I realized that I had left the cookies in the oven while we were gone. It hadn't been but ten minutes, but the bottoms were starting to burn.

“Great!” I scowled, yanking the oven mitts out of the drawer. I pulled the cookies from the oven and set them on the counter. I brought Rachael into the living room and put her on a blanket on the floor. I turned on some music and told the girls to dance while I made up another sheet of cookies.

I returned to the kitchen with Harold's behavior weighing heavily on my mind. He was acting like a child. Was he really mad at me for ruining our date? Or was he actually hurt that I hadn't kissed him? I had no idea how to decipher a grown man's mood swings. Finally, I decided that he must have acted like that because he was tired and stressed out with work. His project was starting, and I knew he'd been working countless hours.

Yes, that was it, I resolved. That was the reason for his rude behavior: his job was overwhelming and he was just stressed out.

One afternoon, after a particularly taxing day at work, I pulled into my driveway just in time to see Harold's car driving up to his house. I took a deep breath and decided I would go over and just talk to him, hoping that we could erase the discomfort between us. But as I rounded the car, I stopped dead in my tracks. He had gone around to the passenger side of his car and opened the door for a lovely blonde woman in a smart red suit.

She's probably just a business associate, I thought to myself, noting that she was dressed for the office. But I wasn't so sure when I saw that he placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked into his house.

I stalked into my house and slammed the door behind me. I went to the kitchen, poured a glass of lemonade, chugged it down and threw the cup into the sink.

“Is something wrong, Lise?” My mother asked, hearing the commotion.

“NO!” I snapped. I turned to see her startled face. She was holding Rachael, who leaned in to me, wanting me to hold her. “I'm sorry, Mom. It's nothing. I shouldn't have yelled at you.” I snuggled Rachael's face and smothered her with kisses. She opened her mouth to suck on my cheek.

“Well...?” My mom knew that something was bothering me because I usually had a rather calm disposition.

After several minutes of her staring at me expectantly, I finally blurted out, “Harold brought a woman home!”

“Oh.” She nodded in understanding. Then she came over and gave me a great big hug.

“Where are the other kids?” I asked.

“In the basement, playing dress-up,” she responded.

No sooner had she said that than I heard little feet climbing the stairs. Grace appeared first, dressed in a yellow Belle costume from Beauty and the Beast. Aurora came in right behind her and had adorned herself in about 30 scarves, draped from every part of her body.

“Look, Mommy, I'm a butterfly princess!” And the two girls proceeded to dance around the kitchen gracefully.

“You certainly are,” I grinned and began to dance along with Rachael in my arms.

My mom got ready to leave and assured me that everything would work out all right. I wanted to believe her, and I was angry at myself for getting so worked up over nothing.

All that evening, I couldn't stop ruminating about Harold and his female friend. What were they doing over there? Was she a business acquaintance? Why would they conduct business in his home? I never noticed that he left to take her home, but again, I wasn't exactly watching out the window all night either. Why did I care anyway? I didn't feel that spark, and I didn't want him to kiss me. So, why did it bother me that he was with someone else at all?

I finally convinced myself that it must have been a business meeting, but I was proven wrong the next morning when I saw Harold and his female friend emerge from his house. She was still dressed in the same red suit but she looked a little disheveled. Obviously, she had slept over.

I couldn't believe the wave of jealousy that washed over me. I mentally slapped myself and scolded, Get a hold of yourself, Lise!