I live alone in a single apartment on a residential street in a small city. It's a nice place -- clean, convenient, and not too loud.
My building was the only multi-unit property on my block. Most of the other buildings were either single-family homes or converted duplexes, with young couples and families living in them.
When COVID hit, my office shut down and I started working from home. I often took long walks after work to stretch my legs and release the stress from being cooped up in my apartment all day.
I had a few close friends that I could meet up with at the park, but I wasn't in a relationship and wasn't part of any sort of "pod."
During my walks I was able to get glimpses into the lives of my neighbors. Walking past the houses at twilight, catching brief snipppets of their lives through open blinds -- families preparing dinners, couples watching TV, kids doing homework.
The house across the street from my building was rented by a couple with two young girls. The girls were friendly -- they would often wave hello to me from across the street. They played hopscotch and drew chalk cartoons on their driveway.
Their mom would sit on the porch and watch them play. She would give me a smile and a small wave, and I would return the gesture, but we never spoke.
I rarely saw the dad. Once when I started on my walk I saw him sitting in his car, talking on the phone. When I returned about an hour later he was still sitting there. His wife was standing at her front door, arms crossed, staring at the car.
And then one day he was gone. The car wasn't there, and I never saw him again.
The girls still played in the yard and their mom still watched from the porch but she started looking more haggard. Normally her sandy blond hair was well-coiffed, but over time it started looking unkempt.
One afternoon as I went to start my walk I decided to cross the street. The girls stopped playing. "Hi," the younger one said. "I'm Melanie."
"Hi, Melanie. Pleased to meet you. I'm Christopher, but you can call me Chris."
Melanie's older sister ran over to me. "I'm Suzy!" she said.
"Hey, Suzy," I answered. I held my hand up in a wave to their mom, who was watching from the porch. She stood and began walking toward me.
"Listen," I said. "I don't mean to impose, but I was wondering -- I'm planning on doing a grocery run and I'd be happy to pick anything up that you might need. Bread, milk, toilet paper, you name it."
Her eyes grew wide. "Oh, wow. That would be amazing. But really, there's no need."
"It's no problem at all," I answered. "Like I said, I'm going anyway. And I imagine it can be tough getting errands done when you're on kid duty 24/7."
She laughed. "Don't you know it," she said. "If it truly isn't a problem, I can run inside and grab my grocery list... But only get what you feel like picking up! And obviously I will pay you back."
She turned to go back inside her house, then stopped herself and spun around to face me. "I never introduced myself. I'm Claire."
"Chris," I said.
Claire smiled, her blue eyes lighting up. "Such a pleasure, Chris. Let me run and grab the list."
At the grocery store I picked up everything on Claire's list, along with a bottle of wine, some pasta, makings for a sauce, and a large slice of tiramisu.
I returned to the house, parked the car, and headed across the yard to Claire's porch, laden with four heavy tote bags filled with produce. They had all gone back inside, so I knocked on the front door. Suzy answered, and I put the bags down on the landing and stepped back.
"Tell your mom I got everything on the list, along with a few other items I thought she might like for dinner sometime."
"Wait here!" Suzy shouted. "I'll get my mom." She ran back into the house, calling up the stairs.
A minute or so later Claire appeared at the door, freshly showered. Her damp hair framed her round face. She had changed into a cotton t-shirt and peasant skirt. She leaned against the doorframe with her hip cocked and her arms crossed in front of what I realized were a pair of generous breasts. She looked good, her skin fresh and shining from the shower.
"I brought all the groceries," I said. "And actually, I bought some pasta and makings for a sauce. I thought -- if it was alright -- I might make you all dinner."
Claire raised her eyebrow at me. "You want to cook for us, too?" she said.
"Only if it's OK," I said. "I'm negative -- I tested recently. And to be honest I'm not really socializing with anybody indoors these days. So yes, I would love to cook you dinner. I make a mean Amatriciana."
By this time both Melanie and Suzy had joined their mom in the front hall and were excitedly jumping up and down, yelling "Please, please, please!"
"I guess I can't say no to that," Claire smiled. She stepped across the threshold and leaned over to grab two of the totes. Her t-shirt drooped open so I had a good look at her large breasts, held in place with a simple lace bra.
We unloaded everything into the kitchen, and I started prepping the ingredients. I taught Suzy how to mince garlic, and Melanie tore the basil. The two girls busied themselves with their roles.
Claire opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. She handed one to me. Her eyes were damp.
"Thank you so much," she said. "I guess it's been obvious I'm going through a rough patch."
I looked at her. "I haven't wanted to pry," I said. "It's none of my business."
Claire nodded, but continued. "Steve was having an affair," she said. "During the pandemic! I mean, come on..."
