I hope you enjoy my submission to the
2020 Winter Holidays Contest
.
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Being a good neighbor
I am a flexible guy when it comes to my own hard and fast rules. I have very few of them simply because I have learned that rules seldom apply all the time. I do have a few that are significant to this story. Be a good neighbor and decorate for Christmas.
The 'being a good neighbor' rule makes sense for anyone. Decorating for Christmas might seem a bit strange since I am a male of thirty-five years, and single. Growing up we always decorated. Dad, mom, and I would spend days decorating and hanging lights. To this day I love watching everything light up when the work is done.
My parents now live in a retirement village eight hundred miles away. Their distance does not change my love for Christmas decorating. I own a two-bedroom home that is perfectly sized for me. I bought the house thinking that I could always sell and get a larger home when I met the right woman. So far, Mrs. Right has been crushed under Ms. Wrong's spiked heels.
You would think that a little lighting would go a long way because I own a relatively small home. You would be incorrect. I have thousands of lights of all shapes, types, and chord lengths. You could say I am a bit obsessive. Honestly, I say I am obsessive. It is a harmless obsession and I have never felt the need for professional help in resolving it.
I start decorating immediately after Thanksgiving. I take down my decorations no later than the end of January. I am not a fan of wire tumbleweeds that require a puzzle genius to untangle, only to find the string will not light. So, I will spend evenings for a week after I take everything down reorganizing, labeling, and storing for the next year.
The house next door is a mirror image of mine. It had been emptied for months with a bent over 'For Sale' sign barely peaking above the unmown grass. I came home from work the second week of November to discover the grass had been mown, the sign was standing straight, and a 'SOLD' sticker artfully angled across the sign.
I pulled onto my driveway after work a week later just in time to see a moving van pull away from the house.
I gave them the day to get settled before I dropped by. The next day I was carrying my homemade spaghetti, garlic bread, and two bottles of wine when I knocked on the door. I hoped my new neighbors were nice people and we could break bread and share some wine. Worse case I would drop off everything and come back for the dishes later.
The woman that answered the door was a vision in beauty. Standing next to her was her near twin. I had double visions!
"Hey, uhm High, uhm I'm, I am John Burton, your next-door neighbor." I pointed at my house. Their house was the last one on the street and the pointing may have been a bit redundant. Sue me. I was having some difficulty concentrating.
"Food, here. I brought food. And wine. I brought food and wine. For you. Welcome to the neighborhood!"
Both women gave me a primer on their facial expressions. The first was mild curiosity, the second was mild confusion, the third was sympathy for the mentally impaired, and the last was humorous acceptance. Their smiles nearly matched and both made me feel like a sixth-grade schoolboy after his first real kiss.
I was shocked that they invited me in considering my less than suave introduction. The vision that had answered the door was openly grinning, "Well, John Burton why don't you follow me to the kitchen, and we will tell you who we are."
Thankfully, the walk to the kitchen did not require much in the way of neurons. They led the way and I followed. I could not help but notice that their butts swayed in time as they walked. They were without doubt exquisite butts. The legs attached to said butts were equally as nice. I wondered if they were twins.
Both their heads turned toward me.
Shit, busted staring at their asses. I just went from nice neighbor to neighborhood perv. They both smirked because they caught me looking. I nervously set everything on the kitchen table.
The lady reached out to shake my hand, "John Burton it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Denise Lang, and this is my daughter Lacy. Please have a seat while we set the table."
"Did you say your daughter?"
"Yes, can you not see the resemblance."
I might have turned a shade redder, but I doubted if one existed, "Of course."
I never stop talking when my foot is only partially in my mouth, "I thought you might be twins."
"Oooh, Lacy we have a flatterer on our hands."
"Speak for yourself mom. I think he just said I was old."
Redder did exist, "Can I have a mulligan? I will go back outside, you can pretend I haven't been here, and I will try knocking again."
Lacy snickered, "Do you really think you can do better?"
I pondered for a moment, "Nope. I blew my chance unless you both get selective amnesia."
Denise chimed in, "We saw that you noticed we are women. I am also sure you are aware that you are a man. When in history has any woman ever had amnesia regarding anything embarrassing that a man said?"
"Point taken. Shall I crawl out the front door and slither my way home?"
Denise smiled, "No, of course not."
Lacy added, "We are used to men saying silly things. Eat first, slither later."
I opened the wine without breaking the cork or the bottle. No mean feat considering my conduct so far. We settled at the table and began to eat.
"How long have you lived next door John Burton?"
"Please call me John. Our conversations are going to be unnecessarily redundant if you insist on using my first and last name.
Lacy just had to ask, "What is your middle name?"
"You just had to ask, didn't you? My middle name is Randolph Eugene. Yes, I have two middle names. Yes, I will hate you if you insist on using them.
"I have lived next door for three years. I transferred here a year before that. I rented until I found the house I wanted.
