Chapter 3: Meeting The Neighbors

Paige was startled at the knock on her door. She hadn’t been expecting anybody, and was working in her kitchen, putting away some groceries and trying to determine the best places to store dishes, pots, pans, and every other bit of kitchen stuff that she and Bob had acquired. Again, the door knocked, so she set down the Dutch oven she really didn’t know what to do with and wandered off to the living room. “Coming!” she called out.

She opened the door to find a tall, statuesque blonde standing in the doorway holding a bottle of something. “Hello?”

The blonde stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Georgia Cummings. I live across the street,” she said, pointing to the sprawling white split-level across the street from them. “I just wanted to say hello and welcome to the neighborhood!”

Paige’s eyes widened. “Oh, hello. Please come on in. I’m Paige, Paige Turner.” She opened the door wide and stepped backwards. “Are you the local ‘Welcome Wagon?’” she asked with a smile. The official Welcome Wagon was a book of coupons that had been dropped in their mailbox by the local real estate developer’s association.

Georgia followed her inside. “God, no! I’m just trying to be neighborly. Here, I brought this over for you.” Georgia handed Paige the bottle of wine. “I took a chance on this. It’s a nice chardonnay, but if you like reds, I can swap it out. Or find something non-alcoholic if you don’t drink.” Georgia hadn’t been sure on that score, but it seemed doubtful that a couple that watched porn were teetotalers.

She was right. “Not hardly!” exclaimed Paige. “Bob’s more of a beer drinker, but I like a nice white wine.”

“Good. I didn’t want you to think I was a total hedonist. I am, I mean, but I didn’t want you to think so,” joked Georgia. She grinned at her new neighbor. Paige was wearing cutoffs and a t-shirt with a heavy-duty bra showing through and was barefoot. Her hair was in a ponytail. She looked awfully cute.

“Heaven forbid. Should I open it now? Or maybe some coffee would be better.” Paige took another look at her guest. She was older than she first thought, maybe late thirties, about ten years older than her own twenty-eight. She had on shorts and a V-neck top, both tight, and white tennis shoes. She looked cute and sexy, and carried herself as if she knew it and liked it that way. She had a dark tan, as if she sunned constantly, and her blonde hair was so sun-bleached as to be almost platinum.

“As tempting as the wine sounds, how about the coffee? You can put that away for you and Bob later. Boyfriend? Husband?”

“Husband. Come on back. I’m still sorting out things in the kitchen, but Mr. Coffee is plugged in, and I just picked up some coffee. I’ll make us a pot.”

“Deal,” replied Georgia. She followed Paige through to the back of the house. “Can I help?” she asked, surveying the stuff still to be put away.

Paige waved off the offer. “I’m still unpacking and sorting. We’d just have the both of us looking for stuff.” She set the coffee to brewing, then pulled a pair of mugs from a cabinet. “Cream? Sugar?”

“Neither. I take mine straight up.”

“Really? I need both. Bob’s like you, though, straight up, unleaded, he calls it. I forgot to ask; did you want decaffeinated?”

It was Georgia’s turn to wave it off. “Regular’s fine. Bob’s your husband, right? He at work?”

“He’s the new Internet sales manager over at CraysCo. We just moved here from California.”

“Really? That’s fascinating. You moved three thousand miles? Oh my God! Where in California?” asked Georgia.

“Up outside of Palo Alto, Silicon Valley, you know?” Georgia nodded. “We were living there and wanted to escape when he got the offer here.”

“Escape? You sound like you didn’t like it.”

Paige shrugged and nodded. “It’s nice enough. I mean, the weather and all is gorgeous. Have you ever lived in California?” Georgia nodded, and Paige continued. “It’s just gotten so expensive nobody can afford to live there. We were barely hanging on, living in a one-bedroom apartment, and paying the same amount as we pay on our mortgage here. And houses? Forget about it! This house would probably run over a mill out there.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not. That’s for a house with about an hour’s drive to work. Anything closer would be more.”

“Jesus!” exclaimed Georgia. “And I thought the market down here was crazy.”

“There’s crazy and then there’s crazy,” commented Paige. “Back there it took both of us working to pay the rent on the apartment. Here we can afford a house.”

“On just his paycheck?” asked Georgia. “Sorry, not my business!” she said waving her hands. “I’m nosy.”

“Don’t worry. Maybe. I want to find a job and I’m going to start looking next week. Right now, we are just getting settled in. Two checks would be nicer, and we don’t have kids yet.”

The two women chatted for another thirty minutes, warming to each other quickly. Finally, Georgia stood to take her leave. “Listen, I need to go run some errands, but I want you to come over sometime. Have you unpacked a swimsuit yet?”

“Uh, I found them and put them in a drawer. Why?”

Georgia grinned. “Because I have a pool, silly! Listen, this afternoon, you put on a swimsuit and come on over. I’ll make a pitcher of margaritas or something and we’ll work on our tans.”

“Ooh, sounds interesting. After lunch?” The pair settled on a time and Georgia went back across the street.

“Hello?” cried out Paige, tentatively. She had gone around to the side of the house across the street, the one to which Georgia had returned, and was at the tall gate to the back yard. There was a high privacy fence all around the backyard, and Georgia had told her to go there, not the front door; She never heard the doorbell if she was out back.

Paige felt a little self-conscious, since she was only wearing a bikini, a terry cover-up, and flip-flops. It was one thing to wear this in the backyard or a pool, but another to wander around the neighborhood this way, even if just across the street.

“Coming!” sounded from the other side of the fence, and a moment later, the gate unlatched and swung inward. “Hi there! I’m so glad you decided to come over. Come on in!” Georgia was wearing a small white bikini, smaller than Paige’s, and was barefoot. “I’ve got someone for you to meet.” She took Paige’s hand and pulled her inside, then led her across the lawn. Paige could see that the tall fence really did give Georgia a lot of privacy. In the backyard, fenced in by a shorter chain link fence was a nice rectangular in-ground pool. “This is Brenda Houseman. She lives next door.”

Brenda, a slim and leggy brunette, was laying back on a chaise lounge wearing a bright red strapless one-piece suit and oversized sunglasses and was cradling a large pink iced drink. She sat up and set down her drink, then leaned forward to shake Paige’s hand. “Hi! I was wondering when I’d meet the new neighbors. Nice to meet you!”

“Hello. Are you my next-door neighbor or Georgia’s?” asked Paige, trying to visualize the street.

Brenda pointed next door, to the other side of the fence. “Over there, right next door. You live next to the Tallmans, Tom and Terri. Have you met them yet?” Paige shook her head and Brenda continued, “And at the end of the court live the Blockings family.” Paige got the houses sorted out in her mind and nodded. Chrystal Court had five houses on it. She and Georgia were opposite each other at the mouth of the court, where Rosewood Drive ran past, and the Blockings were the farthest in. All five homes had large but not gigantic, yards, and a small copse of trees sat between Georgia’s house and Rosewood, isolating the court.

“Okay, I’m following you. So, you’re across from the Towmans...”

“Tallmans,” corrected Brenda.

“ ... Tallmans, and between Georgia and the Blockings?”

“Bingo!” said Brenda, giving Paige a thumbs up. She picked up her drink and sipped from it. “You look awfully thirsty!”

“We decided to drink strawberry daiquiris instead. Is that okay with you?” asked Georgia.

“Better, actually. Tell the truth, tequila gets me sillier than I like,” admitted Paige. “I love your yard, it’s so private.”

Georgia stepped over to a covered deck followed by Paige. She had a small and sturdy stainless-steel cart with an icemaker and a mixer mounted, a professional sort of installation. Georgia called out to Brenda, “You good?”

“I’m okay.”

Paige watched as her hostess prepared another pitcher of daiquiris, using fresh strawberries and crushed ice. Georgia handed her a frosty glass and a straw. “Here, this will get you silly, too.” She poured another for herself, then carried the pitcher over to Brenda, topping her drink off. “You’ve got kids. You’ll do better if you aren’t sober.” Brenda laughed at this.

Paige sat down on a lounger and sipped her drink. It was strong, but not too strong, and very sweet. She could taste the fresh strawberries. “This is good!” She turned towards Brenda. “You have children? How many?”

“Two, twin boys, six years old.”

“Wow! Twins? Bob and I want to wait a bit, to get settled. It’s so expensive raising children,” commented Paige.

Brenda snorted derisively. “Expensive? No! I’ve got two to give away! No charge!” Georgia and Paige laughed, and Brenda continued, “Absolutely free! Hell, I’ll send them over tonight! You can take a test drive. Keep them a few months, make sure you give them a good test drive.” She drank more of her daiquiri. “Keep them as long as you want!”

“God, twin boys? Never! Are there any other children on the block?”

Georgia nodded. “The Tallmans, next to you, they don’t have any, but the Blockings have a couple of boys and a girl, all teenagers. They’re okay. Run her ragged though, Barbara, I mean.”

“Is that why you have two fences? Kids?” asked Paige.

Georgia nodded again. “Insurance companies hate swimming pools. You need both an outside fence and an inside fence.”

“We’ll have to have a party, welcome you guys to the neighborhood,” commented Brenda. Georgia nodded in agreement. “Have you met her husband yet?” she asked their hostess. “He’s cute!”

“I saw him in passing, but not really,” replied Georgia. “Looks big, though.”

“He’s cute,” repeated Brenda. “Big and hunky.” She turned to Paige with a twinkle in her eye. “Is he? Big and hunky?” She waggled her eyebrows lewdly.

Paige laughed. “Very big and hunky! What about your husband?”

“Kind of average, but he’s a tennis player, so he has lots of stamina.” The women all laughed at that.

“Where’d you guys move from?” asked Brenda.

“Up near Palo Alto, in California.”

“Oh my God, that’s all the way across the country!”

Georgia chimed in, “That’s what I said!”

“Bob got a job here, so we moved.”

“Is that where you’re from?” asked Georgia.

“No. Bob’s actually from southern California, near Barstow, and Palo Alto is in the north, near San Francisco, but I’m from Tennessee.”