Chapter 2: New Neighbors

[pascal_curious]

It had only been three months since my father's death when our old family home was sold. It would be strange to live across the street from our childhood home, but not have our parents living there.  I hadn't met the woman who bought the house, but Vidcund had on the day she moved in.  According to him, we were all invited to a party she was going to have so she could get to know some of the people in our neighbor hood. 

Vidcund couldn't wait to put the moves on her (what exactly his moves are, we aren't sure.  I think it must be some sort of seizure type thing because most women flee in terror after being subjected to them).  Lazlo loved any excuse for a party and of course Nervous would be in tow as we are the only friends he really has.  I wanted to forget about the whole affair.  It was too soon since Dad's death.    I didn't want to be reminded of it, nor did I want to be seen in my current condition.

When the day of our new neighbor’s 'open house' came, I was feeling horribly fat and disgusting. My ankles were swollen, and just walking from one end of the bunker to the other was a major chore. I didn’t really feel like subjecting myself to public scrutiny, but I also didn’t feel like cooking myself anything, despite the fact I was ravenously hungry. Eventually, hunger won out over embarrassment, and I waddled across the road to the neighbor’s house in search of a sandwich tray or jello salad. 

 

There were quite a few people milling about on the neighbor’s front lawn, I knew Lazlo and Vic had probably already made themselves at home. I tried to skirt the small crowd and slip around back unnoticed when I saw my sister’s husband examining some ornamental cactus the new owner had planted. Something inside me lurched, I didn’t know if it was something trying to burst forth from my swollen belly, or just nausea, but I knew I had to talk to him. If anybody could tell me what was happening to me, I knew it was him.

“John,” I called his name, just loud enough that he could hear me, without drawing too much attention to myself.

He turned, and once he realized it was me, hurriedly made off in the opposite direction.

“Damn,” I muttered to myself. He knew something, and he didn’t want to tell me.

“Jerk,” I grumbled, and turned around to resume my search for a sandwich tray, hoping for lots of pickles and ketchup. As I turned, I plowed into someone whom I had not noticed standing behind me.

“Jeezus,” I gasped, almost inhaling a passing mosquito.

‘I’m sorry,” she said, kindly putting her hand on my forearm to steady me. “I didn’t mean to startle you; I just wanted to say hi.” 

 

I recognized her as our new neighbor. Vic’s description wasn’t too off the mark. She was as attractive as he had said, but she didn’t look like she would be begging Vic for anything, except maybe to go away. (Vic often had that effect on women.)

“You must be Pascal. Lazlo told me you may come over. I am glad you did.” She smiled sweetly and offered me her hand. “My name is Amber, Amber St. Clare.”

I tried to smile back, but probably only accomplished something like a leer, and shook her hand.

“Hi,” I said unenthusiastically.

She really was a very pretty woman, probably in her mid twenties. She had long red hair that was tied up in the back, leaving small copper ringlets to frame her fair face. She was slender but still curvy in all the appropriate places. Her emerald eyes met mine for a moment, and I realized that she had been checking me out as I had been checking her. I suddenly felt enormous and whished that I could just shrink away and she would forget that she had ever seen me. I self consciously crossed my arms over my belly, probably bringing more attention to it in the process, and awkwardly looked at the ground. 

“I’m sorry,” she said “It is so hot out here, would you like to go inside? I got the AC fixed, so it is really nice and cool now.”

“Actually,” I replied, trying to think of a good excuse to waddle back home. “I should really be going, I have…”

“I know,” she interrupted. “Lazlo said you weren’t feeling too well. Are you sure you can’t come inside for a few minutes. I can get you a soda or something, maybe a sandwich?”

She had said the magic words, and I was forced to acquiesce.

“Sure. That would be nice.”

“Most everyone is out back, so it is pretty quiet in the house.”

I followed her into the house that had once been my childhood home. The décor was drastically different from the way my mother had it. The walls and carpet were no longer the olive and mustard shades out of the seventies; they were more of what would probably be described now as eggshell or parchment. It was strange to think of someone other than mom and dad living in this house.

She led me into a newly remodeled kitchen and pulled out a chair for me. I sat down, thankful to be off of my swollen aching feet. She went to the fridge and poured me a coke with ice and handed it to me with a sweet smile.

“I’ll go get you a sandwich, is turkey okay? I think all the ham is gone.”

I nodded, surprised at how she was catering to me, considering that there were thirty or forty of our neighbors partying in her back yard.

She went outside into the crowd. Her voice carried in through the window as she laughed at something. “He’s inside.” I heard her say, followed by Lazlo’s familiar voice saying “Thanks.”

Lazlo came into the kitchen and plopped down on a chair beside me, beer in hand.

“She’s cute, huh?” he asked.

“Mmm,” I answered through a sip of soda.

“Hey, are you okay? You don’t look too good.”

“I’m alright,” I lied. “What’s up with John though? I think he’s avoiding me.”

“I dunno,” Lazlo shrugged. “Maybe he’s afraid you’ll start asking him questions.”

“If that’s the case, then he’s right.”

Lazlo put his hand on my shoulder and looked at me with genuine concern.

“Man, maybe you are better off not knowing. I mean, maybe that’s why you can’t remember anything. You might not be able to handle it if you did.”

“That’s a comforting thought,” I grumbled sarcastically. “Thanks.”

He sat quietly for a moment, probably not knowing what to say.

“Hey, she is really nice isn’t she?” He asked, trying to break the tension.

“Yeah,” I answered glumly. “You going to ask her out?”

“Nah. Vic already got to her. She turned him down.”

“Smart girl,” I remarked with a bit of satisfaction.

“She says it is just too soon since her husband died.”

“She‘s a widow?” I asked incredulously. “How old is she, like twenty-five?” Being thirty-three myself, twenty-five seemed merely a child.

“Twenty-six,” he answered. “She said he died in some kind of freak accident, but wouldn’t say what.”

“Do you think she just made it up to make him go away?” I asked, thinking that it sounded too an unlikely story.

“No, she got kind choked up. She showed me her wedding picture; it’s sitting on her bedside table.”

“You were in her bedroom?” I asked, dismayed.

“She was showing me around the house,” He explained. “She really has it fixed up nice.”

Amber came in through the sliding glass door, and sat a plate in front of me.

“I hope that’s okay, there isn’t much left.”

I looked down at the plate in front of me. Ravenous as I was, it looked delicious. It was a turkey and cheese sandwich on a croissant, with a pile of potato chips and, much to my delight, 3 pickles.

“Thanks,” I said, managing a smile.

“Do you want some more soda?” she asked, noticing my empty glass.

Before I could answer, she had taken the glass and gone to the fridge to fill it for me.

Lazlo elbowed me in the ribs.

“I think she likes you, big brother,” he whispered with a shit eating grin.

“What the hell did you tell her about me?” I whispered back, between clenched teeth.

“Nothing! I just said you might not come over ‘cause you haven’t been feeling well. Face it, you haven’t been yourself for a couple of weeks.”

“Then why is she being so nice to me?” I hissed. “She probably thinks I am some kind of fat retard or something. What did you really tell her? ”

Lazlo kicked my foot and looked up to Amber who was now coming toward us with a glass of soda. I smiled weakly and thanked her.

She smiled back and stood quietly as I too a long drink from the glass. I hoped she hadn’t heard me.

After a moment of awkward silence she spoke.

“Lazlo, could you help me take the cover off the pool? I thought maybe somebody might like to go for a swim since it is so hot.”

“Sure,” he answered and rose from his chair. She led the way out the door and Lazlo followed her, but looked back at me, a mixture of disappointment and concern on his face.

“Maybe you should go home, Pascal,” he said and closed the door behind him.

I sighed, drained my glass of soda, and gathered my foam plate for the waddle home. I left quietly, first detouring to her bedroom to have a look at the picture of her late husband.

Sure enough, the wedding photo was at the bedside. She and her late husband smiled happily at me from the picture. I self consciously ran my hand over my huge belly as I looked at the strikingly handsome man in the picture, carrying his lovely bride off for a night of passionate lovemaking.

I skulked out of the room and out the front door feeling fatter and uglier than ever. I waddled across the road, wishing that I had stayed home, despite the pickles.

 

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