[Completed] A U.S. expatriate is cast into a rainy, foggy corner of Europe. He went there on the pretense to work on his research, but he actually wanted to put as many miles as possible between himself and his ex.
The university he works for has fo...
Art, Rashid, and Adriana sat silent, their eyes turned towards the hallway. Sounds of Ralph opening the apartment's door and greeting the new guest reached them. A man's voice, a rustle of clothes, then Ralph reappeared, beaming broadly. "Lady, gentlemen. Our special guest... your new neighbor."
Art recognized the man. The bronzed face, framed by cropped hair on its sides and crowned by longer waves of blond at the top—Jake, Mrs. Knooch's nephew.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Jake." With a few athletic steps, he crossed the room and came to a halt at the table.
Rashid was the first to react. He got up and shook hands with the newcomer. "Rashid."
"Happy to meet you, Rashid."
Art had left his chair as well and offered Jake his hand. "I'm Art."
His grip was firm.
"I've seen you before." The man's white teeth advertised his dentist's skills and chemicals. "You're my Aunt's neighbor." The teeth disappeared, he pursed his lips and lowered his eyes, just to raise them again. "You'll have to tell me about her."
"I didn't really know—"Art began, but Jake's eyes were already elsewhere.
"Hey, and yet another lovely neighbor." He beamed at Adriana.
"Adriana." She shook hands with him, smiling.
"It's a pleasure."
Is she blushing?
The light was dim and yellowish, so it was hard to tell.
Jake turned to reach out for the glass of wine that Ralph had poured for him. "So let me give a toast... wait, where's the lady of the house?"
"Mom?" Ralph's voice was a foghorn hailing for a long-lost companion.
"Coming!" Agatha's reply was that of a mermaid giving in to the foghorn's alluring call. Seconds later, she appeared in the door, wiping her hands on a towel. "Jake! Welcome!"
They shook hands and Jake raised his glass again. "Now that we are complete, let me give a toast."
Everyone raised their glasses.
Jake's face became serious, and, one by one, he looked at each person around the table. His eyes were the blue of a mountain lake fed by a glacier's tears, but deeper.
A color bordering on the ultraviolet.
The man nodded at his rapt audience. "We all have had some hard times... a grievous loss. And, as you know... death leaves a heartache no one can heal; but love leaves a memory, no one can steal. So, let us not linger in the past. Let us look forward to what is to come, to new friendship, and to new love." He drank. And drank. When he finished, his glass was empty. "Here's to good neighborship!"
Agatha set down her glass and clapped her hands, and everyone joined her.
Neighborship? A ship of neighbors.
What a lovely image, a house-shaped ship braving the oceans of life. Its stairs all clean.
But one of the mates was missing.
Monica.
The name sobered Art's mood, chasing off the warm feeling of wine that had muddled his thoughts.
"And now..." Jake ogled the oven on the table, "I was afraid to have kept you waiting, but I think I've arrived just in time."
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