Page 7 of The Neighbor
I notice there’s no baby on her hip or her troop of misbehaved boy children running around her like madmen. That’s a good sign. However, I can’t get my hopes up. They’re all bound to be somewhere nearby.
“Mr. Prentiss, happy party day! Do you mind if I call you by your first name? Saying mister every time seems so formal, and that’s not what we’re all about here in our tiny corner of the world, are we?” she asks breathlessly before she stops in front of me.
I’m not against people calling me by my first name. Some people. I just don’t feel that close to anyone in this neighborhood.
But I know I won’t make many friends by being rigid and standoffish, so to further my goal for the day, I reluctantly agree to give her my first name. “I’d be thrilled if you would, Kimmy. My name is Adam.”
Her blue eyes get wide and light up like I just informed her she won the lottery. “Ooooh, Adam. That’s such a wonderful name. Tim and I thought about naming our oldest Adam, but then his mother chimed in and said that wouldn’t work because she knew an Adam when she was younger, and he was a terrible bully. So we settled on Trevor.”
I listen to her babble on about my name being some bastard’s from back in the Stone Age and nod repeatedly to pretend like I care. As if Trevor is a better name. That kid may not be a bully, but he’s something.
“Oh, well that’s nice,” I mumble as I close my front door, locking it before I turn around to face her again.
Kimmy’s gaze drifts from my face to my doorknob and then back to me. “Oh, you lock your door even when you’re just coming out to join all of us on the street?”
Instinctively, I know she’s offended for some reason, so I quickly paste a smile on my face and answer, “Habit from a placeI lived before this. You never know what kind of people are out there.”
That doesn’t placate her, though. “But you know all of us. We wouldn’t go into your house. I hope you know that.”
I take this opportunity to make sure the neighborhood busybody who also loves to act like the welcome wagon knows that I don’t, in fact, know everyone in our little cul-de-sac. “Actually, you’re right about learning to trust people again, but I don’t know everyone. The woman who just moved into the green house a couple weeks ago and I have never had the chance to meet or talk.”
With just those few words, Kimmy’s off to the races. “Oh, well we have to make sure we remedy that today, Adam. Don’t worry. I’m on the case. I’ll make sure you two are properly introduced, and then you’ll know everyone in the neighborhood.”
She stares up into my face waiting for my undying appreciation for her promise to introduce me to Caroline, so after a few seconds, I give her what she needs. With a smile, I say, “I would so enjoy that, Kimmy. You’re just such a wonderful neighbor. I got so lucky to move into this development with people as terrific as you.”
That’s all it takes for her to beam utter happiness. “Oh, Adam, you are too nice. Thank you! Okay, I’m off. I have to make sure my mother-in-law knows the boys eat at a different time than Misty. I don’t think I told her that before she took them this morning. This is the first time my baby is away, so I guess I’m a little nervous, you know?”
“Completely understandable. Don’t let me keep you from far more important tasks. I’ll see you at the party.”
“Great! See you then!” she chirps before hurrying off toward her house to make that call to Tim’s mother.
So that explains why Park Circle is peaceful today. Some crappy music will end that, but for now, I can’t believe howhappy I am to know those terrors won’t be around for today’s festivities.
I guess I’m not much of a kid person.
Halfway down the sidewalk to the street, I remember I forgot my contribution to the potluck, so I turn around and hurry back into my air-conditioned house to get the chips and salsa I grabbed from the store last night. I gave those almost stale bakery items on the last chance rack a good, hard look, but I didn’t think it would help my attempt to get to know Caroline better if all anyone was talking about was the past freshness date coffee cake I brought today.
Odd that Kimmy didn’t notice I had nothing in my hands. She really must be off her game. Probably because the little one is away for the first time.
After grabbing the bag of chips and bowl of salsa from my kitchen counter, I head back out into the oppressive heat and begin to make my way down to the tent set up in front of Kimmy and Tim’s house. My neighbors have begun to come out of their respective homes, so I get wave after wave from them that forces me to juggle my potluck offering to wave back.
All of this politeness is fucking exhausting. There. I said it. Well, not said it, but I’m definitely thinking it. I had no idea when I moved into this development that there would be so much niceness required of me. It’s like no one has a bad day around here. They’re always smiling and getting together to celebrate one thing or another like being around people whose only connection to you is their address is perfectly normal. If we didn’t have the internet and the ability to do virtually anything from our laptops and phones, I might be able to understand this need to congregate in the middle of the cul-de-sac on the hottest day of the year. We do, though, so the desire to hang out with one another simply because we live on the same street baffles me most days and downright irritates me today.
“Adam,” Harold the local fisherman who never catches anything but a sunburn says with a big smile. “Great day to have a party, don’t you think?”
I’m a little surprised he isn’t crankier about not being able to drive away to his favorite fishing hole. What I’m not surprised about is that he already knows my first name. That Kimmy is one hell of a town crier. I bet in a past life she was exactly that. I can see her riding like Paul Revere from house to house screaming about someone coming to town.
“It is, but I thought you’d be out on the water instead. I bet those fish would be biting on a day like today.”
In truth, I have no idea what fish would be doing on any day, including today. However, he and I have nothing else in common, so in my attempt to be polite and neighborly, I fall back on the only topic we’ve ever discussed.
He nods sadly, like he’s hurt he’s missing his favorite activity in favor of his wife’s party. “So true, but you know what they say. Happy wife, happy life. Marilyn and Kimmy worked all week on this get-together, so I couldn’t disappoint her.”
Nothing like trying to polish up that ball and chain life he has to lead. Whatever works, I guess. They’ve been married long enough that I’m sure he knows exactly how little he has to do to keep her happy. If that means forgoing fishing for one afternoon to keep the peace, he’s a smart man to do that. It’s not a life I’d want to have to live but more power to him.
“Join the rest of the men where we belong. Leave all the party stuff to the women,” he says, waving me toward where Tim stands near a propane grill he’s dragged out to the street under the tent.
Everything about this is so stereotypical that I can’t help but laugh to myself. These people pride themselves on having very defined roles. I can only imagine the stunned stares of horror ifKimmy picked up a pair of tongs and took her place in front of the grill.