She pats my arm. “Of course, dear. It is my pleasure. Sue has been quite lonely since moving to Brisbane. I’m hopeful she’ll begin to make some new friends today.”
One of the things I adore about living on the street we do are the older people who live here. Out of the twelve neighbours Nash and I know, five of them are over the age of eighty. We’ve lived here for seven years and during that time have gotten to know these people well. They’ve taught me so much about how to live just by living the way they do.
Just like Gladys, they all make time for people. They give up hours of their lives, happily, to have long conversations. To ask,really ask, how people are. They follow through when they say they’ll do something for you. They follow through when they say, “We must get together soon.” They remember when they tell you, “I’ve got a book that you’d love. I’ll bring it over.” They pay attention to all the tiny things in life and about people, and they never rush through the moments that end up becoming the memories of a life well lived.
I want to live like them and having them in my life has helped me do that.
“I spoke with Sue earlier and she mentioned that she does embroidery. It’s something I’ve wanted to learn for a while, so I’ve asked her to teach me,” I say.
This information causes Gladys’s face to light up with happiness. “That is wonderful, Velvet. I know she’ll love that time with you.” Something catches her eye behind me. “Oh, I have to go and check on the food, dear.”
I let her go and take a sip of my tea. As I glance around the room, I’m assaulted by the vision of Celia giving Nash an eyeful of her breasts. Her partner has left them alone and she’s doing what she does best: making a move on my man.
Celia and Mark moved in about six months ago and she zeroed in on Nash straight away. After all these months of watching her do everything she can to get his attention, and Mark turning a blind eye, I’ve decided they must be in an open relationship. I’m not usually jealous or possessive when it comes to Nash, but I’ve finally met a woman who brings that out in me.
Over the past six months, I’ve managed to keep my feelings to myself. Nash is clueless to her agenda, which shocks the hell out of me. I mean, considering how flirty he was with women before we got together, I would have thought he’d be more than aware when a woman was flirting with him. However, he is truly oblivious to Celia’s moves. Lately, though, she’s becoming more in-your-face with it, and I lost my shit last week, ranting to Nash about hating women who do this to other women. Nash was highly amused by my outburst. The cocky bastard was turned on by my possessiveness.
Now, I watch while she leans in close, with her fucking breasts all over the place, and puts her hands all over him. If we weren’t in Gladys’s home with our neighbours, I’d march overthere and tell her to fuck off and leave my man alone. Instead, I pull my phone out and send him a text.
Me
You’re mine, Nash. Tell that woman to stop flashing her boobs at you.
He reaches into his jeans for his phone as he continues the conversation with Celia. He then reads the text while Celia fluffs her fucking perfect blonde hair. I swear that woman must spend hours every morning fixing her hair and makeup. I hate it. Nash glances up from his phone and looks at me with a grin before tapping out a reply.
Nash
Jealousy is my favourite look on you, sweet thing.
Me
I mean it. If she keeps this up, I can’t be held accountable for anything I do.
Nash
This really is the best fuckin’ Christmas present you’ve ever given me.
Me
NASH.
Nash
If she’s flashed her tits at me, I didn’t notice. The only tits I’m ever looking at are yours.
I roll my eyes at him. Of course, he looks at other women. Just like I look at other men. I don’t expect him to never look. Except at Celia. I think he should be fucking blindfolded whenever she’s around.
He simply grins again at the roll of my eyes.
Celia takes this moment to cut in on our texting conversation and leans into Nash again and says something to him. She also puts her hand on his chest, which almost makes me forget where I am and stalk over to tell her exactly what I think of her. She then does the best thing she’s done all fucking day and leaves him.
I madly tap out another text.
Me
I hate women like her. Women who go after married men.
Nash
