“You’re gonna go, right?”
I knew that would be Callie’s response when I told her about Tripp. She’s been supportive of my feelings since Greg left, but it was inevitable that she would pounce the second there was even a possibility that I would get laid again. It’s exhausting having someone live vicariously through you.
“I don’t know, Callie.” I check my hair in the rearview mirror while I wait for the light to turn green. Jordan, my hair dresser slash Callie’s husband’s sister’s niece, added a bunch of lowlights to my highlights the other day. I still can’t decide if I like it or if I look like a zebra. “He’s nice and all. He’s just so young.”
“Listen.” I can practically hear her waving her hand around, getting ready to make a point. “Once you’re old enough to drink, age doesn’t matter anymore.”
I roll my eyes and take my foot off the brake, moving along with the rest of the shmucks trying to make our way away from the office to home for the weekend. “I’m going to respectfully disagree based on the fact that I’ve been to my fair share of frat parties, and legal drinking at twenty-one is way different than legal drinking at forty-one. Ask the porcelain gods.”
“Who said I want you to drink with the guy? I’d just like you to get laid.”
See? Pouncing like the horny lioness she is.
“I’m not going to say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” I admit, as I turn into my neighborhood. “He sure did flash me his, um, assets today when he walked out of the room.”
“Mmmm…. Put his hands in his pockets so his pants would pull tight, did he?”
“How did you know that?”
“I love that move. It’s like a mating call for millennials.”
“And therein lies the big problem. I’m not even close to being a millennial.”
She sighs in the overly theatrical way that says she’s frustrated I’m not seeing her point. Oh, I see it alright. I just don’t know if I want that point in my bed quite yet.
“Look, I know how to make you feel better about this whole thing,” she tries again. This ought to be good. “The cougar range.”
“The what?”
“The cougar range,” she says again. I wait for a few seconds, humoring her and letting her have a weird dramatic build up before I finally bite.
“And what is the cougar range?”
“I’m glad you asked.” I shake my head and look to the heavens, also known as the ceiling of my car, silently praying for patience with my exasperating best friend. “Cougar range is a mathematical equation to determine if someone is in the right dating age range for you.”
“And what, pray tell, is the equation?”
“Ok first, you need to stop working at a school. You’ve used the words ‘therein’ and ‘pray tell’ in the course of this one conversation and it’s freaking me out.”
I look up again, this time being silently thankful my new car has Bluetooth technology so I don’t get frustrated and throw my phone.
“Oh hey look, I’m home.” I’m not. But if she thinks I am, she’ll hurry up and get to the point. It’s been a long day. I need to stop peopling for a while.
“Fine! I’ll hurry. The cougar range is half your age plus seven.”
“Wait… so you mean it’s socially appropriate to date anyone who is at least twenty-seven?”
“Exactly.”
“Tripp is twenty-five,” I remind her. “He’s still too young.”
“Close enough.”
“Well, that’s up for debate still, but I really am pulling into my driveway.” Lies. I’m pulling onto my street. “I need to go relieve my mom from babysitting duty.”
“What’s the rush? She only has Max. Max is easy.”
“She had everyone this afternoon. The girls had early release for teacher in-service day, so they went home at noon.”
“Oooh. Now it makes sense why you’re openly talking about having sex with some whipper snapper.”
I gape at her, even though she can’t see it. “I am not! You’re the one who brought it up.”
“Pfft. Semantics. Anyway…”
Seriously. I’m too tired for this. Especially now that I see a U-Haul in the driveway next to mine. Well, this is unexpected.
“… are we still on for the park tomorrow?”
Even with me going back to work, we still try to do playdates every other week. Instead, we go on the Saturdays I have the girls, and I bring all three with me now. The park is a little more crowded than it used to be on Thursdays, but extra kids means more friends for Fiona and Maura to play with.
“Yeah, I was planning on it.” As I pull into my driveway, I look for a car, or something. Anything that will give me an insight into who these new neighbors are. The sweet old man who used to live there died in his sleep about three months ago. We didn’t see him often, but Mr. Blitman was always smiling when we did cross paths. He lived alone, but he decorated for every single holiday. Christmas was his favorite. And his house was really popular on Halloween, too. Probably because he gave out the full-sized candy bars.
I’ve been wondering who bought the house since the “sold” sign went up last week. Whoever it is, they must have paid cash for them to be moving in less than two weeks after it went on the market.
“Do you mind if I invite my friend Deborah?”
“Who? What?” I check out the house through my car window but don’t see anyone going in and out. Hmm. I wonder if they’re done already. That was pretty fast.
“Deborah. My new RowRow Apparel teammate? You’re not even listening to me are you?”
I snap back into the conversation. “Sorry, no. I’m eyeing the house next door. Someone’s moving in, and I’m trying to figure out who.”
“Mr. Blitman’s house?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. That was fast. I hope mandatory distribution of full-sized candy bars was written into their sales contract or there are going to be some very angry children on Halloween.”
Climbing out of my car, I stretch my arms and legs. “Leave your eggs at home, lady. I’m not bailing you out of jail for egging his house if they don’t give in to your chocolate cravings.”
Glancing again at the house, I barely register Callie talking about me being a buzzkill. I’m too busy noticing someone peeking through the blinds. Hmm.
“But, yeah, that’s totally cool if Deborah comes. As long as she doesn’t think we’re too crazy, I’m good.”
“Don’t even worry about that. She’s as crazy as we are.”
“Maybe we should warn the people at the park.”
She laughs. “Maybe so. Ok, go take care of those sweet girls. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Bye.” I shut my phone off and grab my purse and bag off the passenger seat before locking all my car doors and heading toward my front door. As I glance at the house next door again, the person peeking out suddenly disappears. That was odd.
Seconds later, the blinds snap closed.
I just shake my head. I can pretty much guarantee Callie won’t be getting her beloved candy bar this coming October. Looks like weird neighbors moved in.
Fantastic.