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That arrogant expression immediately irked her. Instead of diverting her gaze, Jeni narrowed her eyes at him, as if to say, I have every right to be sitting here, and yes, I heard everything.
The guy winked at her and called out, “Join us, next time.”
Thatembarrassed her, and her mouth dropped open. She had limited experience with men (the experience was less than stellar) and couldn’t remember ever receiving a proposition like that.
He laughed and walked down the sidewalk with long, confident strides to a silver, older model pick-up truck parked along the curb. A white sticker in the shape of the Hawaiian Islands stood in stark contrast to the tinted back window, the shapes shrinking and blending together as he pulled away from the curb and drove off.
Jeni sat there, staring at the place on the street his vehicle had just vacated.
The screen door squeaked a second time. Her neighbor stood in the doorway, a colorful silk robe draped across her voluptuous body and long blond hair piled in a messy bun atop her head. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips carried a small smile as she lifted a glass to take a sip of water. Her hip held the door open, and she clutched a cell phone in the opposite hand.
Her eyes leisurely moved around her front yard before she turned to go back inside. When she did, she faced Jeni for a moment and paused to offer a wave. Jeni forced herself to smile and wave back.
This was the extent of their interactions, infrequent as they were. A smile or wave. Jeni didn’t even know the woman’s name.
Her neighbor opened her mouth like she might say something, but the phone rang. She held it in front of her face, looking at the screen. A voice squawked through the speaker, but Jeni couldn’t make out the words.
“No, not right there,” her neighbor said, squinting at the screen. “It’s not centered. Move it a little to the left.” She walked into her house and the screen door closed behind her. But not before one last sentence. “Yes! Right there.”
Jeni couldn’t contain the laugh that escaped as she stood up to go get ready for work.
That’s what she said.
* * *
Jeni gave herself one final check in the mirror before heading out the door. For a minute she allowed her mind to compare the reflection staring back at her with the woman next door.
Her neighbor was fair in hair and complexion, while Jeni was brunette with gold irises hidden behind thick-framed, tortoise-shell glasses. Jeni certainly didn’t have the voluptuous body her neighbor flaunted; her build instead spoke to life growing up on the farm and a love of athletics—softball in particular. Her nose and cheeks were covered in freckles from so much time in the sun.
The other woman had a steady stream of boyfriends crossing her threshold, while Jeni was the only one coming through her door at the end of the day. She didn’t mind, honestly. She thrived on the knowledge she was doing things completely on her own. She was curious though. What might that be like?
If it’s anything like what you had before? Not worth it.
Jeni shook her head, attempting to snap out of the vortex of comparison because it never did her any good. She straightened and checked herself one last time. She might have been a tomboy growing up, but today in her white blouse, pencil skirt, and nude heels, she looked every inch the professional woman she’d become.
Traffic was particularly heavy that day, and her twenty-minute commute to the welfare offices on State Avenue took twice that long. She wouldn’t complain though. After a serious accident in high school, she’d endured long months without the ability to drive, and the freedom she had behind the wheel of a car was something she’d never take for granted again.
Employees typically parked in the large lot across the street, and she circled the first few rows, hoping she’d catch a visitor leaving. The only location she’d be guaranteed a spot was in the back, and her choice of shoes didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.
Just when she’d decided to give up and accept the walk—and the blisters—a car pulled out of a space on the first row.
Yes. Jeni slammed on the brakes and jerked her car in reverse, turning the wheel to start down the line of cars. A silver truck approached from the opposite direction, and Jeni flipped on her blinker. Either not noticing or not caring that she had staked her claim, the driver whipped the oversized vehicle into the parking spot she was waiting for with an ease that might have impressed her if she hadn’t been so pissed.
Swallowing her frustration, she sighed and started moving forward again, her eye passing over the image of Hawaii on the window of the truck as she passed by.
Wait.
Her gaze darted to the rearview mirror, and sure enough, a blond man with a phone pressed to his ear exited the truck. He walked quickly across the street, toward the businesses that lined the sidewalk near her office building.
It had been just a glimpse, but it had to have been the guy from this morning. Jeni pursed her lips in irritation and drove to the back of the lot.
The second she arrived at her cubicle, the heels came off. The morning went quickly, and she spent hours at her desk reviewing case files without so much as standing to stretch her legs. Her boss, Sandra, a boisterous woman with gray hair and red glasses who reminded Jeni of Oprah Winfrey, passed by a few times on her way to the conference room and was the only soul Jeni spoke to the entire morning. There must have been some sort of meeting because every so often a burst of voices would reach Jeni’s ears when the conference room door opened.
“What’s going on in there?” she asked Sandra during a pass by her desk.
“We’re meeting with a nonprofit organization, Fostering Sweet Dreams. Have you heard of it?”
“No, I haven’t.”
