Page 16 of The Neighbor
Curious if these parties continue into the colder weather, I ask, “So what happens when winter rolls around? No parties? Or do you guys do a fire pit kind of thing?”
It’s meant as a little joke, but Kimmy takes it very seriously. “Well, last year we brought the parties inside to our houses for the cold months. November we did it at my house, and then in December we went to Marilyn’s house. January was at the Meyers’ house…”
Her voice fades off to nothingness, probably because she’s worried about what’s going to happen to Suzanne and Jared. I could joke that maybe it will be Jared and Sara hosting the January neighborhood get-together, but I keep that to myself. The last thing I need is Kimmy breaking down in a pool of tears over the Meyers’ break up. It’ll be the talk of the cul-de-sac until the next event.
Caroline immediately senses Kimmy’s mood and stands up to take her hand in hers. “Not to worry. I’m sure everything will work out. Thank you for all you do for this neighborhood, Kimmy. You’re the best neighbor a girl could dream of.”
That gets Caroline a big bear hug, and as I watch the two women, I’m impressed with how kind the two of them are. Kimmy probably couldn’t hurt a fly, and Caroline clearly has more than a healthy dose of empathy in her.
Not that I’ve ever found any use for that trait.
When Kimmy finally releases Caroline, she flashes me a big smile and says, “Take care of her. We need more of her kind in this neighborhood. I need to go return these napkins to Marilyn’s, but I’ll see you two later. Have a great night!”
She trots off toward her fellow party planner’s house, leaving Caroline and me alone again as Tim begins to dissemble thetent. If I was the good kind of neighbor, I’d offer to help, but I have other plans in mind for tonight. Caroline seems to be in the mood to talk, and I’m in the mood to listen and learn.
But before I can restart our conversation, she looks down at me and says, “Well, I better go too. Have a good night, Adam.”
“Thanks. You too,” I say, not trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.
Something about the way she said my name hit my ears wrong. I thought we were having a nice conversation and she was enjoying herself, but when my name came out of her mouth, it was almost like she was spitting out something distasteful.
This woman confuses me. First, she throws me the dirtiest look I’ve ever gotten in my life that day she was in Marilyn’s yard laughing and having a good time with her. Then she seemed to like talking to me tonight, but the tone of her voice when she said my name screamed something closer to hate.
I will find out what’s behind her behavior and what she’s hiding. It’s only a matter of time. If I was interested in Caroline Townsend before today, now I’m downright obsessed to learn her secrets.
And if it kills me, I will.
7
Standingon my porch as I try to fit my key into my front door, I hear a noise like bare feet slapping off the sidewalk behind me and spin around to see someone I hadn’t expected. My next-door neighbor Aaron hasn’t attended either neighborhood party since I moved in, but that’s to be expected since he rarely speaks to anyone and usually doesn’t come out of his house.
Why he’s standing in front of mine tonight I have no idea.
“Hey. Aaron, right? I’m Adam. Adam Prentiss,” I say, feeling awkward since he and I have never officially been introduced.
He doesn’t respond right away, and for a second or two, I consider just walking inside and forgetting about this conversation once I slip the key into the lock. The way he stares at me like he’s lost stops me, though. I get the sense he might want someone to talk to.
In truth, he could have chosen far better than me. Kimmy comes to mind. Then again, her bubbliness might be too much for Aaron. It’s too much for me more often than not, and I’m not mourning the death of someone I loved.
I turn around to face him, and he reminds me of a ghost just staring at me dressed in a wrinkled white T-shirt and a pair oftan shorts. I’ve heard of people wearing grief like some cloak they can’t shed. As I stare back at him, I can’t help but think he could be the poster child for that. I’ve never seen anyone look so utterly sad. It’s like there’s nothing happy or light that exists inside him.
His brown hair hangs in his eyes, so he pushes it back off his face. Even that movement looks gloomy, like he can barely find the energy to make the effort. A chiseled jawline tells me he may have been an attractive man at one time, but his constant frown etched into his expression says those days are long gone.
“Did you want something?” I ask, knowing that’s a dick question but unsure what to say at this moment.
Maybe if it wasn’t already dark he wouldn’t be creeping me out so much.
Aaron shakes his head slowly to answer my question. Uncomfortable, I almost say, “Well, nice talking to you,” but I don’t get the words out before he finally begins speaking.
“Do you think God sees everything?” he quietly asks in a voice barely above a whisper.
I shrug, not really interested in having a theological discussion of the omniscience of God right now. I’m definitely not the right person for this conversation with him.
“Or do you think a person can hide the terrible things they’ve done even from God?” he asks, this time taking a step toward me and then stopping.
We stand in silence staring at one another as all I can do is shrug. What does he mean? His wife died of cancer, according to Kimmy. What kind of terrible things could this guy have done?
Maybe he means something to do with his kids. They aren’t around anymore, but I figured that was because they’re living with their grandparents or some other family members now. Did he do something to his kids that made it necessary for them to be taken off him?