I'd always considered myself a good neighbor. I'd kept my property in good repair, exchanged pleasantries whenever our paths crossed, and tried to respect everyone's personal space. But there's only so much privacy one can maintain when your homes are separated by a modest wooden fence. Especially when you live in a two-story house.
From my master bedroom balcony, I had a commanding view of my fellow residents' backyards. It didn't take long to figure out who lived in each abode, and everybody's predilections. Whether they liked to skinny-dip in their pool, sunbathe in the nude, or cavort in their hot tubs, it was pretty hard to hide from prying eyes.
Not that I made a point of spying on my neighbors. But the ones on my immediate west side were unusually reclusive. I knew they had a single teenage daughter because I'd seen her playing in the backyard when she was younger. But unlike all the other neighbor kids, she hardly ever left the house. She never got on the school bus rounding the neighborhood, and she rarely swam in their large in-ground swimming pool.
On the few occasions that she did venture into the water, it was always in a full-piece swimsuit. I watched her blossom over the years from a skinny pony-tailed girl to a full-figured, voluptuous young woman. With her shapely figure, long blonde hair and full sensuous lips, she looked like a young Marilyn Monroe. The perfect girl next door.
But I couldn't help feel sorry for how she'd been sheltered by her parents. There were no gentleman callers, no prom dates, no giddy sleepovers with her schoolmates. With her home-schooling, who knows what other worldly pleasures she'd been denied? The more often I caught fleeting glimpses of her, the more intrigued I became with her. I'd shamelessly spy through my shutters to catch a glimpse of her patting her wet body dry after a dip in the pool.
Counting the years since she'd fully developed, I figured she was approaching college age. I was dying to see more of her or find a way to have some one-on-one time with her, but her parents protected her like a hawk. Even her bedroom blinds, which directly faced mine through the narrow alleyway between our houses, were always closed. Not that I didn't try on more than one occasion to catch fleeting glimpses of her through the cracks.
One night, I knew a change was in the wind when I overheard her parents whispering on their back patio.
"We've got to let her go one day, Frank," a woman's voice said.
"I know, but college is such a huge step," a middle-aged man replied. "She hasn't been on her own her whole life."
"Abby's a smart girl," the woman said. "We've taught her well. She'll be fine. Besides, she's a grown woman now. If you ever want grandchildren, she'll eventually need to find a mate. Emory's a good Christian college. It won't be that big a leap for her."
"But it's halfway across the country—"
"There comes a time when every young person needs to spread her wings. This is Abby's moment to begin making her own way in the world."
"Miriam—"
"I've been thinking," the woman interrupted. "Summer’s almost over. Why don't we take that trip to Europe we've been putting off for so long? We can have some time to ourselves and give Abby a little space to start looking after herself. That way it won't be such a shock when she leaves home."
"How long did you have in mind?"
"Two weeks. Enough time for us to do a little sightseeing and for Abby to get used to being alone."
"What if there's an emergency?"
"Aunt Jenny's only a half-hour away. Plus, Abby's got her driver's license and already knows how to cook and clean up after herself. How much trouble can an eighteen-year-old get into in two weeks on her own? We can call her every day if you're that worried."
The man sighed.
"All right, hon. I suppose we're going to have to let her be on her own one way or the other."
"Good. Because I've already booked the plane tickets for next week."
