New Neighbor

My Short Stories
Written By Chloe Vela

She sharpened her knives while the soup was boiling. She started to chop the vegetables, feeling a pit in her stomach about the conversation she was about to have. She yelled into the dining room, “lunch is almost ready!”

“Take your time, I’m in no rush to get back to work!”

She carried in the appetizers and placed the platter in front of him.

“So, I bet you are wondering how I am liking the neighborhood so far?” She said with a shrug. “It’s not what I had hoped, oh, you know how I’ve been coming around here a while thinking about building a place on this street…” He had a blank stare. She continued, “and now I feel like it isn’t exactly as I pictured and way more expensive than I thought... you know I had to sell the piano! That was painful.” “Well how did you picture it?” She heard him say. She looked over to find him with that dead expression he had on throughout the whole visit. She smiled anyway and studied his face, “The only thing I would look forward to is catching up with you… getting coffee, hearing the gossip, feeling your hands on me… I guess I thought if I moved here, we would be together more often... Hey, you haven’t touched your food yet!”

Still, he held no expression on his face. She continued “I know we spoke already… I know you hate for me to bring it up but… your wife… now it’s as if I’m crazy because I want you to be mine, you haven’t spoken to me, you haven’t called me, now I’m crossing the line because I decided to move into the neighborhood? I just want to be near you. I missed you.”  She could hear sirens in the far distance, which made her lose her train of thought. His stare was cold, almost degrading, she felt foolish for loving him. She wanted him to stop staring at her like that. Why was he staring at her like that? It was finally clear to her now he had no intentions to ever keep his promise. She started scratching the back of her hand, which was already raw from the nervous tick she had developed since all of this started.

“Do you remember how much we loved playing that old piano?” He gave no indication that he understood what she said. She felt beads of sweat began to flow down her forehead, filled with frustration she yelled “I need a smoke!” He stayed motionless in her dining room chair.

The garden smelled fresh, the cold air comforted her and eased the pain of her wounded hand. She thought about the despairing feeling she would soon have once she faced the truth. She looked over at the hole she had bored out in the fence facing his house. Peeking through she saw her still sitting in the same spot. She heard the sirens coming closer. She put her cigarette out in the flowerpot she had placed nearby which was filled with butts from the hours she had spent staring. Oh, she had forgotten that is where she left the piano wire.

She went back inside, the noise of the soup boiling over made her twitch. She sat next to him, the puddle growing bigger underneath his chair, dripping down his body. She touched his hand, his mouth gapping. “Why are you so cold?” She turned quickly in shock and confusion at the loud bang on the door.

Chloe Vela
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