The Girls Next Door

The Girls Next Door
By Bob Liter
I came home to an empty house the day I got back from my freshman year at State College. Dad was driving a load of cattle feed across Kansas and Mother was working at Crestwood Community Bank downtown. I’d have stopped there, but it was nearly four o’clock and she’d soon be home.
I glanced apprehensively at the house to the east where Mandy Anders lives. I hoped she wouldn’t come running out to pester me. I did look forward to seeing her again. But that could wait. I hoped she wouldn’t still be making me feel like a worm with those big brown eyes because I didn’t take her to the high school prom the spring before? I was a senior, of course, and she was only a junior. Who wants to go to a prom with his sister? She’s not really my sister, but she might as well have been the way she tagged after me.
I glanced at the house to the west where Beth Ann Crosley lives. She was voted queen of our high school class. She had always been a queen as far as I was concerned.
She let me do her homework, wash her red convertible and any other chores she was above doing, but she wouldn’t go to the prom with me. She went with Gary Showalter, the star quarterback, the lead in two school plays and a guy with muscles, dark hair and a smile for everyone, even me. I hated him then, but realized later that he was a nice guy.
I thought of all this as I stepped out of my tired Honda and stretched. Was Beth Ann still dating Gary? I sighed, popped the back end of the Honda, and gathered my dirty clothes. In the house I shoved them into the washing machine and plopped down on the living room couch. I was asleep when Mom got home. She hugged me, scolded me for not sorting my clothes before I put them in the washer, and praised me for not failing any of my college courses.
Dinner appeared on the kitchen table while I washed up. We ate and talked. Home cooking. It was great. Dad called at seven and told us he’d complete his run the next day and be home after that. I went to bed and slept until ten the next morning.
I took my time getting up, enjoyed a slow, hot shower and put on clean jeans, a T-shirt that smelled of fresh, and sandals. I made the bed, proving I’d learned something at college.
In the kitchen I lingered over coffee and read Mom’s note that said, “Ron, if you have time please mow the grass. Your father will be tired when he gets home.”
And so I was directing the mower toward Mandy’s house when Beth Ann tapped on my shoulder, hugged me when I turned off the machine, and gave me a smile warmer than any I remembered from her in the past. She’d never hugged me before.
“Welcome home.. Great to see you.”
“Beth Ann. Great to see you. How’s Gary?”
“Gary who? Showalter? That scum. I have nothing, absolutely nothing to do with him. He married Flossie Cramer not long after you left for college. Let’s talk about something, someone else. She’s already pregnant. How did you like college? You didn’t flunk did you? Want to come over to my house. We could listen to some records or something. Nobody’s home.”
I leaned against the mower. How I had hoped in the past that Beth Ann would pay attention to me like she did Gary. And now?. I surprised myself when I said, “Maybe tomorrow. I need to finish mowing the yard.”
Beth Ann’s eyes widened. She seemed to be as surprised as I was when I turned down a change to be with her. She stuck her nose in the air, turned and walked back to her house. I watched her hips sway and smacked my forehead with the heel of my hand.
Was I out of my mind? Before I had time to answer myself I heard a door slam and then Mandy’s voice.
“Hi, big man on campus,” she shouted.
She skipped across the grass. This was Mandy? She was wearing blue jeans as usual but they were pressed and fit her legs like a second skin. Her chest filled out the white blouse in a rounded way I didn’t remember. And her hair. Each strand was as independent as ever but shorter with colorful highlights. It still was sandy, but there were dark strands here and there. Her eyes sparkled. That hadn’t changed. But her lips seemed fuller, more inviting. The little girl who had followed me around, the girl who pouted only last year because I wouldn’t take her to a high school dance, had become a knockout.
Hello, Mandy,” I said with wonder in my voice.
She smiled. No, she did more than that. She grinned like her ship had come in or something. We talked about college and how she would be going to one in the next state come fall. I forgot about Beth Ann, lost all desire to date her. It was Mandy. She skipped on to her family’s mailbox on the curb, gathered catalogs and letters, waved to me and disappeared into her house.
I waited an hour before I knocked on her front door. She opened it eventually and stood with a cell phone against her ear.
“Okay, Robbie, I’ll see you tonight,” she said and snapped the phone shut.
offered me lemonade. We sat on the patio in back. She had changed to shorts and a T-shirt that clung gratefully to her bosom. I talked around it for awhile but finally had to ask, “Who’s Robbie?”
“He’s my fiancé,” she cooed.
“Aren’t you, I mean I always thought of you as so young. Too young to be engaged.”
“I’m only a year younger than you, Mister College Man.”
Later, as I sat in the kitchen waiting for Mom to get home and fix supper I realized I felt good about Mandy’s obvious happiness, and that I didn’t like Beth Ann. I got out the high school yearbook and decided to call Charlene Chatsworth. She wasn’t home.
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