Neighbor Dearest

  “You look just like her.”

  “Yeah. People say that.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Well, she was twenty when she had me, so she’s forty-seven.”

  “She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”

  “Monica.”

  “Pretty.”

  “She’d like you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “You have a pulse.”

  “What?”

  “Just kidding. I said that because I don’t bring girls home.”

  “Ah.”

  “Well, seriously, she’d like you because she can read people really well, and she’d think you were sweet.”

  “Did she ever meet Jenna?”

  “Yes. She did meet her a few times, wasn’t crazy about her, thought she was too loud.”

  I laughed. “Too loud?”

  “Yes. My mother is kind of a quiet person, very introspective. She’s more of a listener than a talker.”

  “Well, she’s lucky to have two good sons looking after her.”

  Damien and I talked for a while and finished off both pizzas. I sipped my wine and tried to enjoy these moments with him, unsure if anything would be the same between us after tomorrow.

  After dinner, the Double Ds joined us on the couch. There was one dog on each side of me, serving as a welcome buffer between Damien and me. We started watching The Omen, which was seriously one of the freakiest films I had ever seen. I’d always remembered hearing about the character of Damien but never actually sat through the movie.

  It was dark in the living room, except for the lights coming from the television. I turned to him. “I’m sorry. Your autobiography is way more terrifying than mine ever was.”

  “You think?”

  The weirdest part about the movie was the inclusion of Hellhounds, dogs that assisted Damien in his acts of evil. They were the same exact breed as The Double Ds.

  Unable to keep from laughing, I said, “I swear to God, I had no clue that there were rottweilers in this movie.”

  He pretended to be angry. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

  “Yup. I was around in the seventies orchestrating a movie to haunt you with years later.”

  “How freaky is this shit, though?” He looked over at the dogs. “Look at them. They don’t seem amused by their cameo, either.”

  “I don’t blame them. I’m definitely going to have nightmares tonight.”

  His phone chimed, and he looked down to check it. I wondered if it was a woman but curbed my temptation to ask. My reaction served as a reminder of exactly why I was moving.

  We stuck it out until the end of The Omen. The dogs had given up on the movie and were hiding out in the other room. It was getting late.

  “So, what next?” Damien asked. “Want to watch something else?”

  “I should probably go back. We have a long day tomorrow.”

  “This is it? Your last night here, and we ended it watching that crazy shit? That’s what you’re gonna remember me by? Damien and his Hellhounds?”

  “You act like you won’t see me anymore.”

  “Honestly, I kind of do feel like that. When you live right next door to someone, it’s effortless. But you’ll be across town, and realistically, it’s only a matter of time before things change. You’ll meet someone. He’s not gonna want you hanging out with me.”

  Whenever he would pawn me off to other men with his words, it stung. I noticed how quiet it was all of a sudden with the dogs in the other room and the television off. I also noticed Damien staring at the bruise he’d given me on my neck. Shivers ran through me when he briefly grazed the area with his fingertip.

  “You should really cover this up tomorrow.”

  It was the first time he’d acknowledged it.

  “Why?”

  “Your parents are gonna wonder where it came from.”

  “I’ll just tell them you attacked my neck in a women’s bathroom.”

  Damien didn’t seem amused. “No, you won’t.”

  “I was just joking.”

  “Seriously, you should cover it up.”

  “You don’t like looking at it?”

  When he ran his thumb over it, my breathing quickened. The brief touch ignited awareness throughout my body. What he said next totally undid me.

  “I love looking at it. Too much.”

  We just stared at each other for a bit. His ears were red, and I could just sense that he was burning up inside as much as I was. I wanted so badly for him to kiss me, to touch me, to suck on every inch of my body. I had never wanted him more than I’d wanted him in that moment. The fact that I was moving tomorrow did nothing to curb the fire inside of me.

  “What if that woman hadn’t walked in on us, Damien?” I whispered.

  That question had been haunting me.

  It took him a while to answer before he said, “I don’t know, Chelsea. I would’ve been fucked.”

  “Technically, I would have been fucked.”

  He cracked a smile and looked at me like he didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss me or strangle me.

  I wanted to scream out that I knew he was hiding something. I wanted to scream out that whatever it was, it didn’t matter to me because there was nothing worse than losing him. But I couldn’t betray his brother, who’d shared that information with me in confidence. Feeling like I was going to burst, I needed to get it off my chest.

  “I have to say something, because I don’t think we’re gonna have much time alone tomorrow, and I just want to set the record straight. And I swear, Damien, this is the last you’re gonna hear me speak of it.”

  He backed away from me a bit. “Alright.”

  “You say that I’ll forget you once I leave, but I can guarantee you that won’t be true. I might move on, yes, because you’ve left me no choice. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you. You’re in my heart, and I can’t get you out. I don’t know if I want to. Being with you is the only thing that feels right. It would be one thing if you just didn’t have feelings for me, but if you’re telling yourself that I am better off without you, then you’re just wrong. If the emptiness I’m feeling tonight is any indication, I am definitely not better off.”

  “Chel—”

  “Let me finish. When I first met you, I was in the worst place. The worst. The ironic thing is, even if you choose to disappear from my life after tomorrow, you are the reason that I now have the strength to handle it—to handle anything. I will always be indebted to you for bringing me out of that funk, for showing me that I deserved better, for being a friend and for being honest with me even when it hurt. I’m stronger now than I was, and I’m stronger than you think. Anything you ever have to say…I can handle the truth, Damien. That’s it. I’ve said my truth.”

  My statement was a bit risky. It sort of implied that I knew he was hiding something when technically, that conversation with Tyler “never happened,” but I needed to say it.

  “I hear you,” he simply said.

  “On that note, I should try to get some sleep.” I hopped up from the couch. “Big day tomorrow.”

  He followed close behind me as I walked toward the door. It seemed like either he didn’t want me to leave or that he was readying to say something. He never did. He just stood at the doorway with a look in his eyes that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand unsaid words. I didn’t know if he’d ever allow himself to set them free. In the meantime, I needed to move on with my life.

  I guess you could say I was throwing in the towel. But in a sense, it felt more like I was giving it to him, hoping he’d hand it back someday.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MOVING ON

  Sleep was impossible that night.

  Somehow, now that moving day was here, it seemed more and more like leaving was the wrong decision. There was no going back. My belongings were boxed away, and I was trying to mentally pack away my feelings along with my possessions. I had to keep reminding myself tha
t, ultimately, Damien wasn’t fighting for me to stay. A part of him wanted this scenario, too, because it somehow made his life easier if I were gone.

  The toaster oven that he had given me sat unplugged on the counter. I decided to take it next door to return it.

  With disheveled hair and red eyes, Damien looked like he’d also had a rough night. His muscles were busting through a form-fitting, blue t-shirt. “What are you doing?” he said, his voice raspy from sleep.

  “Returning this.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “No, it’s yours.”

  “Keep it, Chelsea.”

  “What if you need to toast something? It won’t be right next door anymore.”

  “I’ll live.”

  “I really would prefer you take it back.”

  “Are we seriously arguing about a fucking toaster right now? Keep it, alright? Kind of like a memento.”

  Adjusting my grip on it, I conceded. “Alright. Since you put it that way.”

  “Go put it back, then get your ass back here for some breakfast with us.”

  We ate quietly, neither of us bringing up the subject of what was happening today. Damien would be dropping the dogs off at Jenna’s after we ate, so that he could spend the day helping me move. We had agreed that I wouldn’t actually say goodbye to the animals, that I would simply treat it like any other day. Well, that was ideal in theory, but when I got up to leave, they followed me to the door, and I could have sworn it was like they knew. They usually didn’t let me leave without a lick fest, but this time it lasted longer. They also let me hug them, whereas normally they were too jumpy for an embrace. The Double Ds definitely sensed something.

  Wiping the tears from my eyes, I refused to look at Damien as I made my way back to my apartment to wait for my parents. I also refused to look out the window at Damien walking the dogs through the courtyard because it would make me cry all over again. I had to pull myself together before my parents got here.

  ***

  It was a cloudy day, and that seemed fitting. The fact that it was cooler out also helped justify my wearing a turtleneck to hide my hickey.

  My parents had just arrived. Since Damien went to pick up the U-Haul truck, they hadn’t met him yet.

  My mother wrapped a vase in some bubble wrap. “You know we love seeing you, but why exactly are we doing all of this today? This apartment is absolutely beautiful. Why would you leave?”

  There was no way I was going to get into everything with them, so I lied, “I just needed a change of scenery.”

  Dad chuckled. “Seems like a lot of effort for a change of scenery.”

  “I realize that. Thank you again for coming to help me.”

  My mother examined my face. “Are you okay? You don’t look right.”

  “I’m good. I’m just a little tired, didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  She placed her hand on my shoulder. “Were you nervous about the move?”

  “Maybe a little, yeah.”

  “Well, hopefully when your friend gets here, we can get you settled, so you can have it behind you. Dad’s gonna take us out to dinner to celebrate.”

  “That sounds nice.” I smiled.

  “What is your friend’s name again?” my father asked.

  “Damien. He’s actually the landlord, and he lives next door.”

  “Oh. That’s interesting,” he said.

  My mother smiled. “Damien…where do I know that name?”

  Dad laughed. “Reminds me of that movie, The Omen.”

  “Speaking of the devil,” Damien said as he entered the room.

  “I apologize for my husband’s rudeness.”

  “Like father, like daughter. That was exactly what Chelsea said when we first met.” Damien smiled and held out his hand to my mother. “Mrs. Jameson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He turned to Dad. “Mr. Jameson.”

  “Call me Hal.”

  “Okay, sir.”

  Damien looked at me. “I’ve got the truck parked right outside and a couple of dollies out in the hall. I’m gonna see what heavy stuff I can take myself before I need your dad’s help.”

  “Okay. Sounds good. Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  After he left, my mother said, “He seems nice.”

  “He is.” I just kept taping boxes and wouldn’t look her in the eye.

  Dad walked toward the door. “I’m gonna go help Damien now. He shouldn’t be doing all of the heavy lifting himself.”

  My father and Damien worked together as Mom and I made numerous trips up and down the elevator with all of the smaller items.

  After a couple of hours, the truck was fully packed, and it was time to head over to the new place.

  My parents got into their Subaru, and Dad punched my new address into his GPS. “Are you riding with us or with Damien?”

  “I’ll ride in the truck with him.”

  “Alright.” My mother smiled. “Dad wants a coffee. We’re going to stop and get some on our way. You want one?”

  “Yeah. I’d love one.”

  “How about Damien?”

  “No, thank you,” he quickly said.

  After my parents drove off, Damien and I were alone for the first time when he asked, “Ready?”

  “I’m just gonna go back upstairs one last time. I can’t remember if I checked under the bathroom sink.”

  Really, I just wanted to see my place one final time.

  “Alright.”

  My shoes echoed against the wood floor. The apartment may have been empty, but it was filled with so many memories. I looked out my window to catch a last glimpse of Damien’s mural from this view.

  I didn’t think he followed me upstairs until his deep voice echoed behind me. “Did you find anything?”

  “Huh?”

  “Under the sink.”

  “No.” I said, still staring out the window.

  “That’s not why you came up here, is it?”

  Turning around, I told the truth. “I wanted to look around one last time.”

  Damien walked slowly toward me. “You can come back and visit anytime, you know.”

  “I know.”

  His body was close as we just stared at each other. The silence was deafening. I knew in my heart that nothing would be the same after today. As I breathed in his now familiar and comforting smell, it truly felt like I was leaving home, in some ways even more than when I’d first moved out of my parents’ house the first time.

  “We should go,” he whispered. “I don’t want your parents to have to wait for us.”

  Inside I was crying, but in reality, at this point, my actual tears were all dried up. I needed to put on my big girl panties and get this show on the road.

  “I’m ready.”

  The ride was quiet, neither of us saying a word.

  When we pulled up to the new building, my parents were waiting outside, sipping their coffees.

  My mother handed me a to-go cup. “It might not be as hot as you like it.”

  As Damien opened the back of the U-Haul, my father joked, “Now we get to do this all over again.”

  Remembering that I didn’t have the key, I said, “I just have to go to the management office. Be right back.”

  After verifying my identification, the woman at the desk handed me three keys on a chain. “Here are your keys.”

  “Isn’t there just one? Are these duplicates?”

  “No. The landlord had some new locks put on your door. So, you’ll actually need three keys, one for each. This one is for the deadbolt, this one is for the padlock, and this one is for the bottom lock.”

  “Does every tenant have three? I don’t remember that when I came to see this place.”

  “No. It was a special request by a third-party.”

  This had Damien written all over it.

  As I returned to the truck, I waved the keys. “Three locks?”

  Damien laughed guiltily. “When I came to check this place out,
I was able to break into your apartment. I had a little chat with your landlord about all of the other violations I happened to notice—nothing that puts you in danger, only stuff I would notice because I’m a building owner myself. Let’s just say, he was happy to add those locks free of charge.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “I’m not next door anymore to keep an eye out. I just want you to be safe.”

  Mom interrupted, “Is this not a safe neighborhood? It doesn’t seem as nice as Damien’s building.”

  “It is pretty safe,” Damien answered. “But with the locks, it’s much safer.”

  My father placed his hand on Damien’s shoulder. “Thank you for looking out.”

  “No problem. I’m gonna start taking up some of the heavy stuff.”

  My mother gave me a confused look. She was picking up on my mood and was starting to suspect something in regards to Damien and me. I could tell she really wanted to talk to me, but she likely wouldn’t have the chance.

  Another two hours passed, and we’d finally moved everything inside. While none of the small stuff was put away, all of the big items were situated in their rightful places.

  Dad clapped his hands together. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving.”

  “We were going to go out to dinner, Damien. I hope you’ll join us?” my mother said.

  “Only if it’s okay with Chelsea. She might want to badmouth me in peace for turning her apartment into Fort Knox.”

  Smacking him playfully, I said, “You’d better be coming.”

  “Alright, then.”

  Dinner at Hooligan’s Family Style Restaurant started out pretty routine. We each ordered the salad bar, which they were known for, and an entrée. Dad and Damien drank from the same pitcher of Blue Moon beer, while Mom and I shared a bottle of Chardonnay. They listened as I spoke about the latest happenings at the youth center, and Damien told the story of his presentation on Arts Night.

  After the waitress cleared our plates, my father decided to start questioning me about the move. That was when things went seriously downhill.

  “I have to admit, honey. I was not very impressed with this new place. I love spending time with you, but that was an awful lot of work just to move you to a crappier neighborhood. If there was a legitimate reason, I could see it. It makes me question your judgment a little.”