I never expected a few eggs buried along my fence to turn into a neighborhood showdown. But once I caught my new neighbor sneaking around my yard, things got personal fast.
When Melissa and her husband moved in next door, they seemed perfectly normal.
I’m twenty-seven, live alone, and somehow bought a house in the friendliest neighborhood. People wave over fences, borrow drills, return them with cookies, and organize yard sales like they’re planning the Olympics.
So when Melissa, thirty-eight, and her husband Ryan moved in, I did what everyone here does: I showed up with pie.
“Welcome to the neighborhood,” I said.
They seemed perfectly normal.
Ryan looked at the pie. “Melissa, cancel dinner.”
“Do not embarrass us in the first thirty seconds,” she told him, laughing.
They invited me to a barbecue that weekend. At one point, I made some stupid joke that had Ryan laughing so hard he nearly dropped his beer.
Melissa smiled at him. “Wow. She’s been here five minutes and already knows how to make you laugh.”
I showed up with pie.
“Unlike you?” Ryan teased.
“Careful,” she said, still smiling. “I know where you sleep.”
We all laughed.
Melissa handed me another lemonade.
“So, what do you think of the neighborhood?”
She knows how to make you laugh.
“Suspiciously friendly.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
Ryan laughed. “You’ll have to teach us who’s who around here.”
“Careful,” Melissa said. “She’ll know our neighbors better than we do.”
“I already do.”
Suspiciously friendly.
“That confident?”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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