Love Thy Neighbor (6 page)

Thoughts scattered, broke. Matters of attraction and need took over.
There was no way—no need—to suppress it any longer. It
took control of her.

She leaned forward, toward him, eyes barely-open, lips puckered
tight. She didn't see him lean back, his face a confused, contorted,
surprised mix of emotion. Her lips closed in on his, coming fast, and
he could smell her scent. He continued to lean away.

Then he fell—out of the chair and onto the floor. The coffee
mug flew out of his hand and broke somewhere further across the room.

“
I think I'd better go, Janna.
Sorry.”

He was out of the room before she opened her eyes; before she relaxed
her lips. She heard the front door open and close as he stormed out.
She was left alone, abandoned, and devastated. Every good feeling
that filled her only seconds ago dissolved away, gone with him. Why
had he been so kind up until then, when she made her move? Was he
appalled by her looks? By her social anxiety disorder?

Why did he freak and flee?

She'd scared him away.

Now she was back at square one—before square one—with
more unanswered questions. Were any of them answerable?

Angry and hurt, Janna threw her coffee mug. It slammed into a wall,
where it shattered to pieces.

Just like her heart.

Chapter 6

Janna cried herself to sleep that night. Sleep did not come
peacefully, and when it did, she did not sleep soundly. No bad dream
that could have come could dispute the dark emotions brimming within
her. Life was the ghastly nightmare in itself.

Across the street, Baron lay in bed awake most of the night, not in
much of a good mood himself. He didn't check his Facebook or email.
He didn't do much else but lay there, staring up at his bedroom
ceiling, replaying the day's events over and over again. Sleep didn't
claim him until 5:07 A.M.

***

The bright sunlight that shimmered through her window woke Janna at
2:19 the next day. Its radiant warmth lacked the power to liven her
bleak disposition. She felt no different from last night—if
anything, only worse. The only thing radiant within her was her
growing resentment for the opposite sex.

She was sure that God, if She existed, was a woman. Had to be. Satan
was surely a man, no doubt about it.

Getting out of bed wasn't ever easy for her. Moving her body was
strenuous enough. Today, however, she didn't know if she
could
get up. The soft mattress beneath her felt like a comfy cloud holding
up her relaxed body. Lying here for the rest of time seemed fine and
dandy to her.

Maybe I could just go back to sleeeeeeeee....

The idea fluttered away, along with consciousness. She slept for
under ten minutes—more restful sleep than last night for
sure—when the loud knock on the downstairs door pulled her
awake.

Baron?

Laura?

Who?

I don't care, go away!

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“
Dammit! I'm coming! Hold
your damn horses already!”

Half-asleep, she got out of bed, made it downstairs (while bitching
and cursing and thinking of what obscenities to say to whomever had
wakened her) and to the front door. Checked the peephole. Hoped it
wasn't Baron.

It wasn't.

Yet, that disappointed her.

It was Laura, her aunt.

Suppressing her crankiness, Janna opened the door.

Laura was a 52-year-old cougar who looked one decade younger than
what she actually was. Janna had always thought she looked more
attractive than herself. The woman had flowing dark hair untouched by
gray, a petite little nose, big blue eyes, and lips that never went
without lipstick. The only thing that made her unattractive—to
some people, not all—was that she always smelled like an ash
tray. An old ash tray, at that.

Laura was dressed in short, frayed denims and a yellow tank top. A
little on the trashy side, but still a looker in her middle years.

“
Hi,
Jan.”

“
Laura.”

“
Well?
Do you have your grocery list written out?”

Janna had forgotten all about it, and her face said it all. “Sorry.”

“
Dammit,
I said I'd be over today. I got things to do, y'know. The least you
can do is help me out. I don't know what to get you.”

“
You
know what I usually get to eat.”

“
No,
your tastes change from week to week. Then when I get something you
didn't want, you get mad. And when I didn't get something you told me
to get but didn't write on your list, you get upset too. I'm no mind
reader. Just... forget it. I'll go to the store and do my best. Just
come get the grocery's out when I beep. Okay?”

“
You
want me to write a list now?”

“
No,
I don't have time. I have to take Denny to his friends, then I have
to pick up—“

Janna could see that her aunt was in a very pissy mood. She was in a
pissy mood, too. Telling this woman off didn't seem like such a bad
idea. Venting her stored up anger on her or anybody would have been a
relief.

“
Is
there anything you specifically need from the store?”

“
Tea.”
She suddenly thought of Baron.

“
All
right. Be ready to come out and get the bags when I come back. I'll
beep—only once. 'K?”

Janna nodded. Laura half-rolled her eyes, turned, and went back to
her car. Across the street, Baron's front door creaked open. He
flipped open his mailbox, took out a stack of letters. He was dressed
in a white wife-beater and black cotton boxers, his hair an
omnidirectional spiked mess.

Janna watched him and waited for him to make eye contact with her. He
glanced at Laura as she got in her Audi and sped down the street.
Then he went back inside. Before he closed the door, his eyes did
meet Janna's. He glowered at her for under a second and shut himself
in, without saying hi, smiling, or waving.

Janna felt like puking. Puking, then stuffing herself with a bunch of
junk food to fill her barren feelings.

Barren... Baron...

Janna almost wanted to move to a new town just so she wouldn't ever
have to see or deal with him again.

Or my bitchy aunt...

But running away wasn't the answer. She knew that. Hell, that'd
probably make everything considerably worse, down to the most basic
level. You could never run away from your problems.

Because I can't run away from myself...

She realized the truth. If she wanted to get away from Baron, from
Laura, from Ben, from the whole tri-state area of Denburg, she would
get nowhere. No, none of those people were her problem. Her problem
was, essentially, herself. Nobody could run away from their demons,
and all demons were essentially internal. Everyone had to deal with
their own in their own way. How would she? How
could
she? What
in life was she not doing that she
should
be doing? Where was
that first baby step? Was it possible to do any of it herself? Or did
she need outside help?

All this time—her entire life—she thought only a romance
could end everything that was wrong with her. But maybe she had to
repair herself before that could happen.

But love can do anything! Love can cure.

Nobody will ever love me.

Love can move mountains...

Nobody likes me.

Love can conquer all!

Love isn't in my cards...

SHUT UP!

Then came another truth, harder to digest than the first:

I have to love myself first before it's possible for any man to
love me.

If that was the case, why even bother? Why put forth the effort? The
steep curve it would take to accomplish that would be extremely
arduous, not to mention time-consuming. She had never loved herself
before, she was sure, not once in thirty-one years. Instead, she'd
spent that time relying on others to show her the love she lacked for
herself.

Well, now the distressing true answer came to light: she wasn't ugly
on the outside; she was ugly on the inside.

Janna went into the kitchen, opened the freezer, and pulled out a
pint of Rocky Road. It would take the troubles away, even if just for
a little while.

Then she got a spoon from a drawer. Then she started eating.

***

While his neighbor gorged herself with ice cream, Baron stood under
the shower head in the tub of his upstairs bathroom, letting the
steady stream of warm water splash against his face. Nothing else
could feel better. He could have stayed in here all day, letting the
steam wrap him in a misty, formless cocoon. It took his mind off his
thoughts—except those of Janna. She was at the forefront still,
a nice young woman who had probably lived a rough, rocky life in an
unfamiliar town he still knew very little about. Coming here had been
his sister's idea, in the first place. This was a place where he
could, like Janna wanted to do, get away and move on. For different
reasons, similar reasons, identical reasons. Wasn't it all the same?
Sometimes people and certain locations didn't go well together. You
either moved, dealt with it, or succumb to it.

***

One pint of Rocky Road gone. A doughnut was now caught trapped
between two sets of teeth. The pastry was consequently ripped apart
by incisors, chewed and devoured.

Janna was full but continued to eat anyway. It distracted her from
Laura and the way she'd rolled her eyes. The way she'd sped down the
street. The stern tone of her smoker's voice. Everything about the
woman.

The Crispy Cream made Baron's apparition flutter, fade, come to the
brink of nonexistence. But when the doughnuts were gone, he
solidified in her mind, a hard, heavy imprint impossible to ignore.
Goaway! (those eyes) Goaway! (that laugh) Goaway! (those dimples).

Janna went on to eat waffles, eggs, sausage links... she had to stop
after the banana, because her stomach refused to let any more in. By
tomorrow, she figured, she'd gain a good ten or fifteen pounds. On
top of that, she thought, it'd be a miracle if she didn't end up with
diabetes. And her other aunt, Jill Kieser, would no longer be the
reigning heavyweight champ of the family.

Her stomach gravid with junk food, she plopped down on the couch and
shut her eyes, tried to go back to sleep.

***

Baron dressed in his best attire: a sky-blue button-up untouched by a
single wrinkle, navy Dockers, black dress shoes. He gazed at himself
in his full-length bedroom mirror with a despondent, lost expression
on his face. His whole stance gave off a despondent vibe. Going to
the job interview was not something he wanted to do today. One had to
work to live though, right? It would be over soon enough—however,
Amy, his sister, had insisted he hang out with her and her friends at
a local pub. That was something he wanted to do even less. But he'd
promised to go, and if it made Amy happy, he could live with that. He
just didn't know if he could live without a nap or stay sane with
Janna's haunting memory on his mind.

I was an ass for falling out of that chair, avoiding her kiss like
it was death.

While he waited for his sister to come pick him up, he went to the
living room and collapsed on the blue leather sofa, where he let his
thoughts and need for sleep battle out to see which of the two would
win.

***

Janna lay on her black suede sofa, one arm behind the headrest, the
other hanging over the edge. Sunlight (the storm had passed by)
streamed in through the bow window, illuminating every particle of
air-born dust in the room and illuminating her face in pinprick
patterns.

I shouldn't have tried to kiss him. He wasn't ready. You were too
ready, you dummy. That's my problem, I couldn't hold back. I wanted
it too much—so much, I probably screwed up a great relationship
with a potentially great guy. Stupid!

Some things could be fixed; other things could not. Sure, she had
invited Ben back with ease, but Baron? He wouldn't be so easy. That
would be a challenge. Besides, what
relationship
was she
talking about? You
build
that after months of getting to know
someone... not mere days. The man could have had any number skeletons
in his closet: alcoholism, drug use, embezzlement, theft, domestic
abuse, a violent temper. He could be worse than Ben in certain ways.
He could have issues she didn't want to know about.

But she highly doubted it. What sociopath avoided a kiss, of all
things? No, sociopaths would have accepted the kiss, then tried to
take advantage of her, whether she wanted to give it up or not. Baron
was a gentleman—a polite, easygoing gentleman trying to heal
from a bad breakup.

And I opened the wound further...

***

There were two
beeeeeeps
one right after another, so close
together they sounded rehearsed. One was sharp and whiny; the other
was low and guttural.

Janna got up off the couch. Baron got up off his.

A Honda sat parked curbside by Baron's house, and Laura's Audi sat
parked directly across the street. Both women turned, glanced at each
other, wondering if the other was mocking her. They both held the
same facial expression:
what the hell you doing?

Two front doors opened simultaneously. Janna stepped out of one,
Baron the other. The halted before going to their intended vehicle,
looked up, and their eyes met, held. Laura sprouted a smile as she
realized her niece was obviously smitten with the boy next door. Amy
turned to and from Baron and Janna with her eyebrows furrowed like
Gollum's in Lord of the Rings. Long seconds passed.