Next Door Hater (Love Under Lockdown)

Had he been a cringier sort of Dad, he probably would have waggled his eyebrows, or some other indicator of true intention. We were both smarter than that though, his implication well contained within his tone.

“I’ll go over later, say hello,” I said, serving the meat up onto two plates.

I couldn’t really fault him or the effort, I’d been single for a while at that point, and I knew Dad was starting to get worried. Not that I was what used to be referred to as ‘a confirmed bachelor’ more than I might die alone, like he likely would.

It had been years since Mom died, and I never seen him getting close to dating. Even after I got old enough to be well past the ‘new mommy’ stage. My own absence from the dating game had to be much more by circumstance than design. Football combined with school, at both the high school and college level, didn’t exactly leave me a lot of free time.

I had no intention of being an absentee boyfriend, leading to a sort of unintentional celibacy. Were it not for a particularly devoted fan back in my senior year of high school who had asked me to be her prom date, I would have been a virgin possibly permanently.

Not the worst thing in the world to be, particularly when one discounted the social pressure, but I was glad for the experience. It drove me mildly crazy when I heard people say that ‘humans are social creatures’ as though those of us who weren’t particularly social were defective at best. From where I was standing, isolation not leading to a crushing sense of ennui was an advantage, not a weakness.

I gave it a bit of time, not wanting to run right over there to check out the hottie. That really wasn’t how I rolled. Despite extended exposure to the less savory elements on the football team. Machismo was one thing, chauvinism was another, and I drew the line clearly.

There was even a believable excuse, Dad apparently having an arrangement with our new neighbor that we could use their bathroom, seeing as ours broke down more often than a Ford. Even so, it was probably best to take things slowly.

The afternoon cool had settled when I went over, not enough to imply that snow might be coming, but certainly enough to herald the coming dark, daylight savings still a while away.

Avoiding the taped area, I rapped upon the door, trying to keep the word ‘nevermore’ far from my mind. First silence, short but deep, followed by the sound of feet. Bare feet, coming from the upper level. Either I’d woken the mother, or the cutie daughter would be the first one I met. Either way was fine with me.

“Nate?”

I wanted to respond but first had to collect my jaw from the step. Like Schrodinger’s Cat, the woman in the doorway was Elise Vaughn, but also, not. This version, in addition to being older, was much more filled in, in all the right places, while having trimmed down in others. Unmistakably a woman, far from the chubby, nerdy girl I’d left behind when I’d started college.

The two of us had gone to school together, elementary all the way through high school, and bluntly, we hated each other’s guts.

“Elise?”

There was much more of a question in my tone, my mind still wrestling with the implications of the discovery.

“I-I need a -”

“Oh, hello, you must be Hank’s boy.”

I had to give her points for directness, Sara coming right to the door, gently pushing her daughter out of the way.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Sara.”

“Okay, well, Sara, I’m in need of a shower and -”

“The modern-day robber baron who owns the place still hasn’t fixed it yet?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Come on in, the bathroom is upstairs, third door on the right.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

She might have been troublesome, but I had a hard time disliking Elise’s mom. What could have gone wrong to make Elise so insufferable?

Showered and dried, I went back down, hoping to avoid both elder and younger Vaughn, thinking it to be for the best.

“Nathan, come and have some coffee with us,” Sara called as soon as I’d hit the main floor.

I’d had my mother around long enough to recognize an order when I heard it. No matter how nicely it might have been put. Full first names always meant business. Not quite as much as full names, when second names got involved, things had gotten terrible, but still not something to be ignored.

Steeling my nerves, I headed for the kitchen, hoping the ‘us’ included almost anyone other than Elise. I still couldn’t really stand the sight of her. Despite how different that appearance had gotten.

The fates laughed, dancing around my head as I faced my misfortune. Sara and Elise both sat at the small kitchen table, a mug of coffee in front of each of them. A third was sitting at an empty space that I assumed would be for me.