The last moving truck drove away leaving Heather and Bill Henderson's things in their garage next door. My wife Mel had been watching on and off from our front porch, giving me play by play on the type and style of their furniture, the number of boxes, and random items that were unloaded.
"I think he's some sort of construction worker Donnie," she called back inside to me. "There is a lot of equipment, I guess I really don't know."
"Relax and come inside, we'll find out soon enough," I said motioning her to come sit next to me on the couch, not a favorite thing of hers to do. "Let me give you a back rub."
"Geez, Donnie is THAT all you think about?" Mel quipped and walked right by me, insinuating that I want to evolve the back rub into sex.
"I want to get you to relax, you've been like a cat prowling all day watching the progress," I responded, again motioning for her to come sit by me.
"Wait, Donnie, I think they're pulling up," she said peering out the window, my ire building with her dismissing me tying it to sexual advances and obsessing about the new neighbors. True, we would often use cuddling or a back rub as a precursor sex, these days there wasn't much of anything.
"We're like an old couple spying on everyone!" I exclaimed rolling my eyes. We had seen them look at the house next door a couple times, the offer and closing coming quickly, now their things were packed into the garage and throughout the house.
I got up, the truth was I got a glimpse of Heather Henderson when they were being shown the place and she interested me. Dressed in a red floral dress, her hips nice width, her body slight and breasts popping cleavage out of the low front cut. Shoulder length hair, I recalled, and I could hear her infectious laugh when the realtor took them into the back yard. That day I waved from my raised beds, she stopped, waved back, her look lingering, while they continued around the back, Heather turning her head towards me several times.
I have believed, and in my younger days experienced, we have our functional sexual being and our freakish, bring out only when the conditions are perfect, sexual being. In nearly 30 years of marriage, mostly when we were younger, we had freakish nights but not many, if any, over the last 10 years.
Having seen them and exchanged glances with the wife, finding out their names was as simple as asking the local gay couple who always has the scoop on everybody.
"Heather and Bill Henderson the realtor said, and they have a bit of money swooping in and paying $75,000 over listing to ensure they got the house," Kurt said, looking at his husband Jeff. "It's that right?"
"Yes, and they have money. Something in business, I think the realtor said they own a series of construction companies," Jeff said.
Mel took me out of my day dream surprisingly opening the door and waving it their direction, she turning back to look me in the eyes saying 'come out here'. I followed out and saw Heather and Bill, one foot into our yard waving back and smiling at my wife.
"Welcome to Cardinal Bay!" Mel called out, barefooted in our grass, hand extended to shake Heather's meeting Mel and then Mel shaking Bill's. He was hanging a couple steps back giving me a wave and an awkward half-smile and I heard my wife say "I'm Melanie Franklin, I mean Mel...and this is my husband Donnie."
"Hi Donnie," Heather said moving swiftly, shaking my hand, my eyes drifting down into her blouse with short high sleeves, cleavage open the bra parting her breasts nicely still pushing up. I caught myself only to see a smile of acknowledgement of my wandering eyes from Heather. "I'm Heather and this is Bill."
I shook Bill's hand and Mel asked them if they needed anything, they said no and something about having to go get some things at the hardware store before going somewhere for lunch. The movers had their furniture set up and next was starting the process of unpacking.
"Bill thinks I'm putting unpacking off," Heather said, turning and taking his hand.
"Because you are," Bill said following her. "It's all the things EXCEPT unpacking."
"You don't have much room to talk, Bill," Heather said, then looking over at Mel. "He can't wait to get the movers out so we can 'christen' the house. It's all you men think about."
"You've got that right," Mel said looking at me, her 'I was right' about the massage look. "Hey, what are your dinner plans? We're grilling if you want to just come over to the deck and fire pit area."
"Don't want us in the house, I get it," Heather said in a curiously flirty tone with Mel, Heather putting her hand on Bill's shoulder. "Sounds great...come on Bill!"
Heather turned and her shorts were just high enough to show a little cheek, I put her in her late 50s or early 60s, body like a 40 year old. Bill was in a polo and shorts, I sensed a little younger, so both about our ages.
"Around 6:30, look for us!" Mel pivoted, her 57 year-old body in good shape, her morning workouts started in January paying good dividends, her spandex shorts turned to our new neighbors, she was in a yoga tank top.
I officially retired, my 60th birthday coming at the end of the July, though I lined up part-time work in the fall. We were both educators who decided to take their pension, leaving jobs we were happy with, but looked at the financials and it was time. Mel was still full time at a job that had many days away from the house and some on zoom inside the house.
"Do you remember christening the Southerland House?" I asked walking back into our home. "We didn't stop until we hit every room. We didn't quite get there with this one."
Mel gave me a glare, I figured the least interesting thing to Mel was Heather said was about them breaking in their house sexually. Truth was we had been going through a dry spell sexually, things not connecting well and I thought there was a sexual tone out there I could cash in on at home.
She went straight into prep mode for hosting dinner. It was only 11 a.m. and Mel quickly distanced herself from the interesting parts of our meeting them, by Noon was heading out to get the necessary things from the store.
It was a hot June day the time with our new neighbors now forced me into the hot, scorching sun to mow the lawn. We lived in suburbia and you needed to have your lawn mowed and trimmed weekly said the HOA.
While I'm not a body builder, my physique, for a man approaching 60 in a month, was good. I had hair and I did run and do yoga consistently, also watching what I eat most days, I thought I had a leg up on Bill's physique, not scared of showing mine to Heather.
I ditched my shirt, rolled out my electric mower and started the front yard, the cleavage of Heather in my mind. I finished the front and got to the back, going back and forth vertically to my house so I could see into their back window and the entry to their basement.
I was nearly finished, kinda of hoping to see some christening movement inside but nothing until Heather appeared on the back entry steps standing, watching me mow.
Sweat was streaming down my face, I had attached my shirt to the waist of my shorts. I stopped, wiped my face, then my chest, her eyes watching in my direction before she disappeared into the basement.
I finished and entered into the bedroom where Mel was getting dressed after a shower. Thinking about the new neighbors sexually baptizing the rooms of their house I suggested meeting for a romp in the bedroom after my shower. I was denied, she talked about the time we had before the Hendersons would be coming 6:30 and all the things we had to do. I gave up my quest and poured bourbon and water, and sat out on the deck for a moment, it was 5:30.
Sitting outside I saw Heather and Bill talking into her dinning room, she was following him around, gesturing in our direction, her hands in her hair in frustration at one point.
I went inside and arranged a mini bar on the counter, not knowing what they might like to drink, Mel seeing it and expressing her displeasure.
