The Painting

Two

I first noticed our new neighbors on a Tuesday afternoon when I was bringing Cait home from a doctor's appointment and the entire lawn was neatly trimmed, with a big white GMC truck parked in the gravel drive.

"What in the world?" I wondered aloud. "When did this happen?"

Cait looked up curiously from the book she was reading in the passenger seat. "Hmm," she said quietly. "I didn't know Bart's ranch was ever even up for sale again."

It was like she read my mind, once again. We used to creep dad out by doing the whole twinning thing on him. I don't know how we did it, but we seemed to finish each other's thoughts and sentences so often that you would think we were the exact same person, besides Cait's slightly slimmer frame than mine. I also had the stronger mind, as Cait had always been the frail one. I was just glad she was onto a new medication that should help with her extreme fatigue. We still had a few weeks to find out if it really worked for her depression, though. The joys of medicinal trial and error.

But it wasn't until another two weeks later that we actually saw any real sign of life at Bart's old house. Being a mile from town on a boring country road, you always knew about neighbors that live around you, and Bart's ranch sat empty directly across the highway from our old Victorian-style home that my parents had built for themselves way before Cait and I were born. We were used to the solitary life when the bank bought out Bart's house about 4 years ago, and even though he was a cool old guy, Bart sure liked to make a spectacle of his property at any and all holidays imaginable. At Christmastime, people would go out of their way just to slowly drive past us, windows down to hear the chiming music playing while ogling the brightly lit displays and gigantic blow-up lawn ornaments. It was a little embarrassing at times.

"Let's bake something for the new neighbors!" Cait suggested when I got home from work late one afternoon.

"Ugh," I grumbled. "I don't know, I'm kinda tired and would rather watch tv." I plopped my purse down on the credenza with a loud bang. Wow, what did I have in there that was so heavy?

Cait turned her head down and I saw the intense disappointment on her face before her brown hair fell over it, like a curtain closing at the end of a tragic scene. I should've known better. She's just getting over her old medication, I reminded myself, and she's got all kinds of hormones and neurotransmitters going haywire until the new meds take over. If she's excited about the idea of doing something as simple as baking, then it's my job to support that positive mood she is in.

"What did you have in mind?" I questioned, hoping I didn't just ruin her entire day.

It worked. She pulled one side of her hair back behind her ear and gave the floor a little grin. "Well, I looked through the cabinets and saw blueberry muffins, brownies, or chocolate cake mix, but we don't have any icing."

"That chocolate cake mix is mine, anyways," I said. "I'm saving it for a rainy day."

She rolled her eyes at me. Me and my sweet tooth. "How about the muffins then?" she suggested.

"That sounds perfect," I said, heading to the kitchen.

A couple hours later, Cait and I left a messy kitchen behind to walk across the large front yard, past the front pond with the wild geese that liked to nest there, holding a large Seran-wrapped bowl full of warm, freshly-baked blueberry muffins. We quickly darted across the street toward the new neighbor's house, up the long gravel drive where the white truck sat right outside the large barn-style garage where Bart used to store all his gaudy decorations. I hoped these new neighbors would be friendly and, well, cool. We didn't need any more weirdness around here.

We stepped up onto the wide covered porch and Cait timidly knocked on the door. As we stood there waiting, I looked up and down the old covered porch, remembering when mom would take us over here as kids to go trick-or-treating. Bart would have this whole place looking like a haunted mansion, with pathways set up in the front yard leading to the house, and a life-size zombie butler standing next to the porch swing, holding a large platter of candies. He claimed the butler's name was Bob, and I remember him so clearly because I was terrified of Butler Bob. Mom would have to get the candy for me because I refused to go near him. Cait wasn't afraid of him, though. Cait was more like mom in that sense: She loved Halloween and all things scary. They were very bold despite suffering with such deep depression.

We heard steps approaching and the door finally opened, and a tall man with thick graying hair smiled at us with friendly surprise. He was probably about dad's age but much taller and stronger, and he seemed more cheerful, too. "Well well well, aren't you two welcoming!" He exclaimed in a loud, Southern accent. "My name's Todd Kelsall. Y'all come from across the street there?"

"Yes, sir," Cait grinned back at him. "My name's Caitlin Shaw and this is my sister Isla. We live with our dad, Dan Shaw, but he's working right now, so we decided to bring you some blueberry muffins and say hello."

I smiled awkwardly next to her, surprised at how outgoing she could be at times.

"Oh isn't that sweet of ya," Todd said, taking the bowl from Cait. "Are y'all twins? You look an awful lot alike."

Cait and I both nodded.

"Well, come on inside if you'd like. I got some butter I can bring out for the muffins. I'll get my son down here to say hello." Todd stepped aside to let us through, and he stepped up at the bottom of the staircase that emptied out into the foyer. "Jeremy!" He hollered. "Our neighbors came over to greet us, come say hello!"

I took a subtle peek around as we followed Todd to the kitchen. It hadn't changed too much from what I had remembered, except for the fact that the furniture was different and there were half-unpacked boxes lining the wall down the foyer instead of the decor that Bart had everywhere like a pack rat. I wondered if there was ever a Mrs. Kelsall, but it would be extremely rude for me to ask, especially if she had a similar story to my mother's disappearance. Our family knows not to ever talk about mom to others, which we barely even did amongst ourselves. We all took the tragedy very hard, in our own ways, and talking about it only opened up old wounds, so the best thing we could do was to simply let it go and move forward the best we could.

"Would you two like to stay a moment and enjoy a muffin with us?" Todd asked, holding up a short stack of paper plates he took out of the cabinet.

I personally felt a bit strange being there, but Cait blurted our "Sure!" before I could say anything. She and I exchanged glances, and I shrugged and settled down on one of the bar stools at the island counter. Cait immediately sat down beside me.

At that moment someone else entered the room behind us, and Todd glanced up at him with a smile. "There you are! Jeremy, these are our new neighbors from 'cross the street. They brought us over some blueberry muffins. Want one?"

Cait and I turned to see a young man around our age, tall and broad-shouldered with thick, slightly curled dark brown hair that flipped out around his ears. His dark eyes smiled with him as his face lit up at the sight of us. I was immediately glad we stayed, or even came over for that matter. Jeremy was, without a doubt, very attractive, and I could somehow tell that I was going to like him, besides just for his good looks.

"Yeah, I'll have one," Jeremy said, walking around the island to stand beside Todd. "Hey, I'm Jeremy," he then said to us.

"Hi, I'm Isla," I said, and then looked over at Cait. She sat there staring back at Jeremy with an expression I've never seen on her before. Her eyes seemed big and sparkly and she was almost blushing. I bit my lip when I realized she was probably too starry-eyed to speak for herself anymore. "This is my twin sister, Caitlin, but everyone calls her Cait." I told him.

"Nice to meet y'all," he said with a smile, and then looked down to grab himself a plate. The smile never left his face.