By mid-afternoon, however, the doorbell sounded, and it was Marilyn. She simply held up a gift bag with doggy treats and toys in them.
“Wow! That’s great. Thank you so much. I owe you an apology,” I explained, shaking my head. “I never pegged you for a pet lover,” I confessed.
“Well, I am a real ballbuster, make no mistake. But I’ve always wanted a puppy. My life is just too crazy, and I don’t think that I am the nurturing type anyway, but…” she trailed off.
I said, “Well, wonders never cease.” And we had our first neighborly chuckle together. It felt great.
We went outside, and Billie Jean worked her magic on Marilyn, who could only spare a few minutes before she had to get back, but there were moments in which I finally saw my neighbor let her hair down. Literally, she untied her hair which cascaded down her tiny waist like a waterfall of pure honey, the golden flecks catching the syrupy sunset.
With Billie Jean settled in, my neighbor in a sweet temper, my house in a semi-livable state, and the garden taking shape beautifully, it was time to press on with my other pet project. The weather was perfect outside, so I hauled out my canary yellow 2001 Honda Gold Wing classic motorbike. She sure was a thing of beauty. Not as racy looking as other models, but when she was all tuned up, the boy could fly. I just had to work out a few more kinks, and we could maybe take her for a test run. I bought her with the money I’d saved mowing lawns all through high school. She was my pride and joy. I got straight into tuning her up.
Again, I must have lost track of time because she had come back to my house, all feelings of goodwill had evaporated from her face, and she was back to her usual grumpy default settings. The unmistakable sign I was in trouble–a perfectly manicured, sandaled foot tapping beside my head as I craned my neck to work on the gear shift pedal.
I accidentally snipped the oil conduit in my fluster, and it spilled all over her beautiful foot and shin. “I am so sorry! I slipped, and it …” I grabbed the nearest oil rag to dab the mess, but I made it worse.
By then, there was a fountain of oil all over the place, most of which had found its way onto Marilyn.
“You…you! This is NOT the kind of neighborhood for grease monkeys! You would be much more comfortable on the other side of town!”
“I’m really very sorry, Marilyn. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and the cutters slipped. I am so sorry. Please send me the dry-cleaning bill. It’s the least I can do.”
I was trying hard not to laugh. That would have made things a whole lot worse. But she did get a sizable smudge of oil on the tip of her stubby nose that was just so funny. She looked like a vulnerable little girl who was trying to be as threatening as she could.
“You er…have a little smudge on your…” I began, gesturing to her nose. She wiped the oil with the back of her hand, spreading it around even more.
“Here, let me,” I offered, gently wiping away the oil. And then, there was a moment. Our eyes met, and we were so close I could breathe her in. Luckily, Billie Jean broke the tension with her upbeat entrance.
“I think I’m gonna need another shower,” she whispered and walked away in a bit of a daze.
“There were definitely sparks, Billie Jean. Did you see them?” I confessed to Billie Jean after Marilyn was out of earshot.
* * *
In the morning,Maddy Park arrived promptly at 7:00 a.m. “Hey, right on time. Good on you,” I called out.
Maddy was a high-spirited college student who earned extra money as a dog walker and dog-sitter. She had my absolute respect. I remembered working my way through college, so I could have some money of my own, and every job meant a lot to me. So, I wanted to pay it forward. Besides, I needed assistance with Billie Jean. I didn’t want her feeling neglected with me starting this new job.
“Sure thing, Mr. Miller. Aww, hey there, Billie Jean.” Maddy and Billie hit it off immediately.
“It’s just Chris. Ready to head out?” And with that, Maddy, Billie, and I went for a brisk walk down the road. Surprisingly, there were other early risers on the road too. It was a pretty friendly neighborhood, after all. I caught a glimpse of the curtain move in Marilyn’s window, and I knew she’d seen us setting out. I hoped I wouldn’t be in any more trouble with the Ice Queen when we got back.
* * *
To my surprise,she was busy raking up leaves in her own yard. “You should get a leaf blower for that,” I called out.
“It’s broken, so I have to do it the old-fashioned way,” she replied. Man, she looked great in a pair of sweats–the soft white was a tad impractical in my book, but she sure looked thoroughly huggable.
“Here, we’ll give you a hand,” I offered as Billie Jean and I walked over.
“No, no. You have a ton of things to do before work tomorrow. Besides, I am almost done, really. Oh, hi there, Billie Jean,” she softened.
Before they knew it, Marilyn and Billie Jean romped around in the carefully raked stack of leaves. They were having such fun and it was great watching Marilyn unwind. So, I quickly set to work bagging the other piles of leaves. We got the last one together.
“Thanks for the help, Chris. I appreciate it,” she mumbled.
“No, problem. You should get someone to help out with this stuff. It’s too much for you,” I suggested.
“My usual gardener is visiting his sick mother across the country. So, I’m stuck on garden detail for a few months,” she explained. “Ready for the new job tomorrow?” she asked, a bit more relaxed around me now.