Neighbor from Geneva (eBook)

Chapter 6

Montclair, New Jersey

“Harry, don’t forget we’re going to John Caruso’s retirement party next week.”

“What are you talking about, Gertrude? He hasn’t worked for the last 10 years.”

“Stop calling me Gertrude. We’ve been married for 32 years. Can’t you call me by my real name? And I know, but he’s turning 65 so he’s retiring from his unemployment. Just go with it.”

“I like Gertrude and I’ve used it so often that I can’t remember your real name. What’s he going to do, buy himself a gold watch and pay himself a pension?”

“The name is Lisa, you lowlife. What do you mean you can’t remember my name? The next time you’re in the mood, you can call Gertrude. Lisa will be busy!”

“Maybe the three of us can have a good time,” said Harry laughing.

“In your dreams, Harry, those days are long gone for you. Gertrude and I would be asleep by the time you’re revved up. Even if you were up for the job, it would be a long wait for a short ride.”

“Okay, I’ll call you Lisa. Gertrude is getting quite nasty. Didn’t realize hot flashes cause women to be so obnoxious.”

“Dress nice for the party, they’re putting on a good spread.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me I have to wear a tie!”

“I was thinking more like pants.”

“Funny, Gertrude—sorry—Lisa. I’ll wear a sports coat but that’s it!”

“No pants?”

“You know what I mean, no need to be a smartass, Gertrude.”

“I’ll use the occasion to buy myself a new dress. I haven’t added to my wardrobe in a long time.”

“You have more clothes than you actually use. Is this your way of telling me that you can’t fit into your dresses any longer? Might be cheaper to pay for a gym membership, Gertrude.”

“By the look of your paunch, you should ask your gym for a refund. The idea is to have more muscles, not more belly, my dear.”

“Speaking of belly, what’s for dinner tonight?”

“Whatever you like.”

“Well, that’s awfully nice of you.”

“Not really, Harry. You’ll be fixing your own dinner. I’m going out to eat with Molly.”

“Why didn’t you mention it before?”

“Just decided a few minutes ago. I need to call her right away.”

“Could you at least give me the number of the pizza delivery place? You know cooking isn’t my thing.”

“Not sure what your thing is, Harry. The number is on the fridge. Easy on the toppings and no need to order a large one.”

“If you’re not fixing dinner, then you don’t get to make the rules about what I eat. Am I telling you what to eat at the restaurant?”

Lisa went to the kitchen and called Molly.

“Good news! I just talked to Molly and she’s eager to get out of the house as well. Fred is driving her crazy.”

“Oh yeah, what’d he do?”

“Just being there.”

“Maybe I’ll call Fred and see if he wants to share a pizza. By the way, do we have to buy John a retirement gift? That would be crazy, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t think there’s a pizza big enough for the two of you to share. Not sure who has the bigger paunch, it’s a close one. We have to bring something. I’ll take care of it. You’d just embarrass me, again.”

“Have a good time with Molly. Don’t worry about me, here all alone eating a pizza and drinking a beer.”

“Give me a break, you know you can’t wait for me to leave. You’ll have free reign of the TV. No one to argue with about which program to watch. Give Fred a call. You deserve each other. Got to run, see you later.”

“Where are you going to eat?”

Lisa had already closed the door and was heading for her car in the driveway. Harry had the nicer car so he kept it in the garage. So much for gallantry. She looked around at the quiet leafy neighborhood with large colonial-style homes, tidy yards, and upscale cars. On the outside was the prosperous, neat, and orderly life that everyone around her was trying to maintain. An oasis of calm in a world full of misery and chaos. The reality was that many of these lovely homes contained their own version of hell. Dysfunctional relationships, couples on the verge of divorce, children with drug addictions, family members with serious health issues, and visits from the grim reaper that no one could escape.

Lisa entered her three-year-old Audi Q5 and felt good about driving a luxury car in the neighborhood. Almost everyone had one except the penny-pinching Lowells, who took pride in their old manual Subaru wagon. She looked at her house from the car and surveyed the neighborhood. She didn’t lack for anything, but then hardly anyone in her neighborhood did. She did think about the fact that her Apple iPhone was a couple of models away from the latest version. She may have to upgrade soon. In spite of all her worldly comforts, she felt like she was going through the motions. Harry was Harry and she was used to his presence although the romance had died years ago. At least she wasn’t alone like Cindy Welch up the block, who seemed to have had close to 100 dates since she joined an online dating service after her divorce. Cindy still hadn’t found love but she was good for some entertaining stories from her dating experiences. Lisa wasn’t sure who had it worse, Cindy Welch looking for love, or her living with Harry. At least he was company—but then again, so’s a dog.

This feeling of malaise seemed to get worse once she turned 55. Is this all there is? she wondered. It made her feel better when she turned on the news and saw masses of people wandering the globe with little belongings, not sure of their next meal. Refugees from war zones, cartels, and extreme poverty looking for a better place to live for themselves and their families. She was sympathetic as long as they didn’t come to her neighborhood. Look how fortunate I am, she thought. So why am I unhappy?

Having dinner with Molly usually made Lisa feel better. For one, Molly was two years older, her husband, Fred, was fatter than Harry and was going bald. He had also recently lost his job, jeopardizing Molly’s ability to maintain her lifestyle. If Fred didn’t find work soon, then Molly faced the dreaded climb down the social ladder—with the material consequences that entailed. A smaller house, an older car, a dated phone, and cheaper restaurants when they could afford to go out. The ultimate disgrace. Molly could look for a job, but she’d stopped working when they had kids, so it would be just as hard for her as for Fred to find work. At least Cindy Welch had a good job.

Lisa entered the parking lot of one of the better Italian restaurants in the area. This was New Jersey, so there were plenty of Italian restaurants and Irish pubs. The Trattoria had an authentic feel to it. The waiters were actually from Italy and so was the chef. The charming courtyard in the back had tables covered with umbrellas, subdued lighting from floor lamps, and a waterfall. The tables were covered with white tablecloths and there was a small light on the tables with an artificial flame. In the background, you could hear Italian songs. It made you forget you were in New Jersey. A very good thing.

She needed to get drunk. Why did she drive to the restaurant? She should have taken an Uber; that way she wouldn’t have to worry about her alcohol consumption. No more than two glasses of wine, she told herself. She entered the restaurant and went to the back where there was a door leading to the courtyard. She saw that Molly was already at the table with a glass of wine. Had she taken an Uber here?

“Hi Molly. Getting an early start, I see.”

“Lisa, good to see you. I could use a friend right now.”

Lisa glanced around the courtyard. It was a Wednesday night and the place was only half full. It was 70 degrees outside, a great temperature for outdoor dining. The waiter brought water and menus.

“So, what’s going on with you, Molly?”

“It’s Fred. He still hasn’t found a job and he’s always around. He’s driving me crazy. It was somewhat tolerable living with him when he worked, especially when he went on trips. Having him around full-time is just unbearable. I’m thinking of leaving him.”

“You’ve been together for over 30 years! You just can’t get up and leave. You would miss him in a strange sort of way. Like an old chair that’s worn and uncomfortable but has sentimental value. Talk to Cindy about dating when you’re over 50, it’s no picnic. She’s been on that dating site for years. Either the guys are strange or, if they’re decent, after a date or two they disappear. Who knows, he may find a job soon.”

“Maybe you’re right. I need to get involved in more activities and get out of the house. The menu here is pretty good. Let’s order. Do you want to share a bottle of wine?”

“I do, but I drove here so no more than two glasses for me. Not worth getting a bottle unless you’re able to drink most of it.”

“I took an Uber so I can indulge. I’ll buy the bottle and you take as little or as much as you want. By the way, are you going to John Caruso’s retirement party? Sort of funny, no?

“Talk about being tempted to drink more than I should! Yeah, the party idea is funny. Harry thinks it’s crazy. He doesn’t want to go, but we’ll...