The Neighbors, Chapter 1

1713 Oakville Drive was the new Castle Richardson. This was the thought that went through the mind of Philip Richardson as he got of the U-Haul truck him and his wife, Lana, had rented. Lana had parked her Impala at the end of the driveway, got out, and was waving to her husband, a smile stretched across her face. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the back of her head, to prevent from getting in her way as she and Phil brought in the numerous boxes. Phil waved back, returning the smile, and Lana came up the driveway to him as Phil himself opened the back of the moving truck.

“Alright,” he said, staring at the mountain of boxes. “Where do you want to start?”

“Let’s start with the bedroom stuff first,” said Lana. “That way, if we don’t finish everything today, we’ve at least got a place to sleep tonight.”

Phil nodded, and he and Lana began to haul their belongings into the house. After an hour, everything was brought in for the master bedroom, and the bed was set up. Phil took a deep breath; he was already dripping sweat and longed for a drink. Later, he thought.

Next was the kitchen. Pots, pans, cookie sheets, everything was slowly brought in and set on the countertops; they would put it all away later. Now, they just wanted it inside.

“I’m planning on going shopping tomorrow,” said Lana. “That way, we can have the fridge stocked. Ya wanna just do pizza tonight?”

Phil nodded, fantasizing about the pizza and beer; the dinner of legends. As the afternoon riddled on, the mountain in the truck got smaller and smaller. At last, around 5:30, the truck was empty, and everything had been moved into the house. It was at this point that a voice made Phil turn.

“Hello, there!”

Making her way up the driveway was a woman, not much older than him, brown hair. She was dressed in a yellow sundress. She was smiling and waving.

“Hello!” the woman said. “You must be the new neighbors.”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Phil, nodding.

“I’m Emily,” the woman said. “Emily Vincent. That’s my house right there.”

She pointed to the house across the street, a handsome one with a well tended lawn and garden.

“Nice to meet you, Emily,” said Phil, shaking her hand. “I’m Phil Richardson, and my wife Lana is inside. Is it just you over there? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Not at all,” said Emily, smiling. “It’s me and my husband, Ed. Our kids have all moved out. What about you? Any kids?”

“Not yet,” said Phil. “We just married just shy of two years ago and were finally able to purchase a house. From what Lana says, that’s next on the list.”

“I see, I see,” said Emily. “Well, don’t let me keep you. I just wanted to introduce myself. If you ever need someone to talk to, we’re just right across the street.”

She shook Phil’s hand again and walked back over to her house. By now, there was a man, wearing a simple grey shirt and jeans, standing just outside the front door. Phil waved to him; he gave a small wave back and retreated back inside. Phil himself turned and went into the house.

He found Lana in the kitchen, putting plates away. He grabbed the box of silverware and began to put them into their drawer.

“I met the new neighbors,” said Phil. “The one that lives across the street.”

“Oh really?” said Lana. “Lucky you. I wish I could’ve met them. What was their name?”

“I only met the wife,” said Phil. “Her name was Emily, and husband’s name is Ed. I only saw him standing out in front of their house. He didn’t come over.”

“Well, maybe I’ll get to meet them tomorrow,” said Lana, stacking the last plate pile into the cabinet. She then tackled glasses, saving one of the wine glasses for later that evening.

***

Lana’s red Impala pulled into the driveway. She put the car in park and began hauling the groceries inside. As she came back outside to close the trunk, she saw a man standing at the end of the driveway, simply looking up at her. His black hair was neatly combed and shining.

“Can I help you?” said Lana, smiling pleasantly. The man came up the driveway.

“Hello,” said Lana, offering her hand as the man drew nearer. “I’m Lana Richardson.”

The man smiled warmly.

“My name is Ed Vincent,” he said. “You must be the new neighbors.”

“That’s right,” said Lana. “You must be…Emily’s husband, correct? I think my husband Phil met her yesterday.”

“That’s what Emily told me, yes,” said Ed, nodding. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Thank you,” said Lana.

“Not a problem at all,” said Ed. “If you and your husband ever need help or simply want to talk, we’re right across the street.”

“Thank you,” said Lana. “We’ll be sure to take you up on that.”

Ed gave a small wink and retreated back to his own house. It was strange, Lana thought. That wink, as quick as it had been, had sent shivers down her spine and a nest of butterflies had erupted within her belly. She shook her head, closed the trunk, and went inside her own house.