Page 24 of Space Oddities

So I’m not sure why, but the next thing I know I’ve stripped, and my lime green string bikini that I had draped over a lamp is pulled on and cinched tight.

Veronica’s tinkling laugh echoes around the house.

Freaking ethos.

Sliding into my tallest espadrilles, I yank the door open and head for the stairs.

Cookies my sweet ass.

Seven

Optical Data

Ian

“Thanks for the cookies,Veronica, but I’m about to start mowing the yard.” I remain in the foyer to the kitchen, not wanting to walk any farther into the house. My words don’t invite further conversation, and my stance should give her the social cue that she isn’t welcome.

Not picking up on any of these things, or simply not caring, Veronica walks past me, places the cookies on the kitchen island and looks out over my yard, dashing any hopes for a short visit when she continues talking. “I can’tbelieveyou are still mowing your own lawn. I meanhonestly, there are people to do that for you.” She turns, crossing her arms under her unnaturally round breasts, breasts that are not supported in a bra, and smiles, looking slightly feral. “I’ll give you the number of my lawn guy. Then you’ll have time forotherthings instead.”

I’m at a loss at how to handle this. I hate being unprepared. I like to account for all possibilities, all outcomes, but I’d been so busy concentrating on what I’d say to the HOA guy that I hadn’t prepared for a sneak attack from Veronica. Always surrounded by her neighborhood groupies, she’s never come over by herself.

By bringing Trish here, I’ve upset the natural state of things. I failed to account for neighborhood curiosity.

One of Veronica’s hands trails along her collarbone, trying to get me to focus on her unbound assets.

Why is it the girl I want, the one actually living in my house, can successfully avoid all contact with me, but the married woman four houses down keeps orbiting me like a piece of space debris?

“That’s okay, I like mowing my yard.” I turn even more toward the front door, trying to sound firm while still being gracious as I try again to send her on her way. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Her smile tilting into an evil grin, she saunters closer to me. And now, without the plate of cookies in front of her, her exposed flesh looks even more unseemly. I look pointedly at her Botoxed forehead.

“No thanks needed.” Her square-tipped French manicure with rhinestones on the tips scratch down my forearm. “That’s what neighbors are for, after all.”

I’m about to give up on being polite and just bluntly tell her to get out when a flash of skin peeking through the stairway banister distracts me.

Trish is gliding downstairs in high heels.

In a bikini.

It takes me a minute to remember how to swallow.

“Veronica, dear, howlovelyto see you.” Trish struts up to us, the contrast between the neon green of her suit and her milky white skin making me blink.

For once, Veronica seems at a loss for words. “I, uh…”

Trish’s hand slides up my back and hooks over my shoulder, edging Veronica back a step. “To what do we owe the honor?” Trish’s fingers dig into me like she owns me.

A sudden blast of victory shoots through me. There can be no other explanation for Trish’s sudden appearance and apparel (or lack thereof) than jealousy.

Recovering, Veronica squares her shoulders. “I didn’t realizeyouwere still here.” She tilts her head and flutters her lashes. “I heard that the HOA wouldn’t allow trailers in the neighborhood.” She clucks her tongue. “All those rules to keep out the riff-raff. Such a shame.”

Trish smiles back and flutters her own lashes, making me wonder if women have their own Morse code for these situations. “Yes, itisnice to keep out unwanted visitors. Especially those who just show up with ulterior motives. Never can be too safe now.”

Veronica glances at me before changing tactics. “Yes, well.” She sweeps her hand toward the counter. “I just brought over some fresh-baked cookies for y’all to enjoy.”

Trish places her other hand on top of the one at my shoulder and glances up at me wide-eyed. “Well, isn’t that nice, sweetie? Cookies for us to enjoy later.”

Years growing up in the mine fields of politics has still left me ill-equipped for this moment. “Um, yes.”

---