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Theodore’s Housemates

Anita G. Gorman

    The house next door has had more than a few occupants, and over the years we have tried to be friendly neighbors. Sometimes that becomes hard, even impossible. Or sometimes just strange.
    When Theodore Plankton moved in next door, we greeted him with homemade cookies. He was pleased. He told us that he was retired, had never been married, and didn’t own a dog, a cat, a bird, or even a goldfish. It seemed to us that Theodore would make a fine neighbor.
    Within a month a truck pulled up to Mr. Plankton’s house. Out emerged a somewhat younger man who started carting in furniture. It seemed that Theodore was about to have a housemate. Well, it was his business.
    I chatted with him over the fence the next day. He smiled at me. “Well, Ginny, I suppose you saw the truck yesterday.”
    “Yes. Did someone move in with you?”
    “Yeah, he’s using one bedroom for his business and he’s sleeping in the other spare bedroom.”
    “Good thing you have three bedrooms, unlike some of the other houses on our street.”
    “Well, I presume that Arthur won’t be bothering you. Or me, for that matter.”
    Our routine continued in its humble way, and I didn’t care if Theodore had a housemate, as long as no one was noisy or violent or learning to play the tuba. Still, I couldn’t help wonder how Theodore could maintain his privacy if some guy was operating a business in one of his bedrooms and sleeping in another. Well, it’s his business, I kept saying to my husband and my dog MacBean. He’s a Westie, and MacBean is my clan. I think.
    Then something else happened at Theodore’s house. I thought it was really strange.
    One day, I saw a woman I can only describe as a floozy get out of a smart-looking car. Her skirt was way above her knees. A few hours later she was gone. I wandered out to my backyard, pretending to weed some flowers. Sure enough, Theodore was relaxing in a lawn chair.
    “So, how are things going, Theodore?”
    “Fair to middling, as they say. Actually, I have a problem.”
    I waited to hear what he had to say. I was hoping it would be interesting, and it was. I leaned over the fence so I could hear better.
    “I’ve had three dates with the woman who was here today. Name’s Florence. I call her Flo. Florence wants to move in.”
    “Move in? You already have a roommate. All three bedrooms are occupied, right? Where’s she going to sleep? Do you like her? Are you going to get married? Is the other guy—Arthur—is he leaving?”
    Theodore got up from his chair and walked over to the fence. I stopped leaning over it and straightened up. After all, I wasn’t too interested in kissing my neighbor.
    “Well, Ginny, you’re good at asking questions. Did you ever work for the police?”
    “Not telling. Maybe. So, Theodore, I’m beginning to think you’re getting into deep water here. What did you say the woman’s name was?”
    He crossed his arms, looked at a squirrel in a nearby tree, and began.
    “Flo called me up one day. Said she was a friend of my sister. After talking for a while, I invited her to dinner. We agreed to meet at that new restaurant, Bella’s. Not too fancy, not too cheap. We had a good time. So I invited her out again, and we went to the movies and then for a snack. And then we had a third date at Sammy’s Bar. More casual that time.”
    “So did she tell you about herself?”
    “Yeah. She’s been married to someone from another country, I forget where, and she’s trying to get a divorce, which is difficult because he went back to his country. Meanwhile she’s had this boyfriend who was living with her. Then she kicked him out. He was real mean. Now he’s stalking her. He bangs on her door and calls her at all hours and she’s afraid, so she wants to come and live with me.”
    “This story sounds a bit fishy to me. Yes, I did spend some time working as a police officer. I’d be really careful about letting her in your house. Where’s she going to sleep?”
    “In my bed. But don’t get the wrong idea, Ginny. I’m going to sleep on the couch in the living room. It’s a sofa bed, so I’ll be OK.”
    “Your house is going to be so full that it may burst at the seams. When I look out the window, I’ll probably see cracks in the siding and bulges appearing.”
    “But there’ll only be three of us.”
    “Yeah, right. One owner, one tenant who runs his business from the second bedroom and by the way why can’t he sleep there, and this woman who’s coming with a lot of baggage, if you know what I mean. I’m not talking suitcases.”
    Theodore sighed. He just looked like a guy that you could take advantage of. I could probably get him to mow the lawn and clean my house for free. Except that I have a husband, a suspicious guy who would wonder if the man next door started doing our chores.
    We stood there in silence. “Well, Flo’s coming back later with her stuff.”
    “I hope she’s only bringing some clothes and a toothbrush, and not all her furniture.”
    I decided to mind my own business, which is really hard if you’re a nosey person like me. I was so curious about the threesome next door. I peeked when Flo got out of her car and lugged a large suitcase to the front door. Then I stopped looking. Well, truth be told, I wasn’t seeing anything, so why gaze out the window when I can watch my soap operas? Plenty of action there.
    So the nice weather continued, and I puttered in my garden, and while I puttered I would look across the fence to see if Theodore happened to be around. Or Arthur. Or Flo. One Sunday afternoon the three of them seemed to be having a great time. Correction: Arthur and Flo were gabbing and laughing and drinking. Theodore was working, preparing the barbecue and the salad, bringing out a pitcher of cold beer for the two gabbers. He was a regular waiter. He could even get a job at one of those places he had taken Flo—Bella’s, Sammy’s Bar, wherever. Not that it was my business. But my dog MacBean was really interested, especially when someone threw him a bit of hamburger or barbecued chicken. What a life. If only a dog could help with the weeding. Oh well, I’ll just ask Theodore. Ha!
    The three of them seemed to be getting along just fine, but I was a little concerned about the owner of the house being a kind of servant for his tenants. Then I stopped being concerned. I had my own life to live, including my soap operas.
    A couple of weeks later there was one of those do-it-yourself trucks in front of Theodore’s house. I saw Arthur piling his stuff into the truck. I watched for a while, then got back to my cooking. Have to cook once in a while, I always say, since my husband likes to eat. Then I heard the truck drive away. MacBean was at the back door making those whimpering sounds. Time to let him out to do his business.
    As I let the dog out, I heard Theodore greet him. “Hey there, MacBean. Nice to see you.”
    I couldn’t resist. I walked outside. “Oh, hi, Theodore. I thought I heard someone talking to MacBean.”
    “Well, who would it be, Ginny, besides me?”
    “Well, Flo.”
    “Not here.”
    “Out shopping?”
    “No. She left. She left with Arthur. They’re both gone. Arthur was paying rent. Not that I really need it.”
    “I’m sorry. Wait. No, I’m not. You have your house back. You have your life back. Flo was a woman with a past. Not a faithful type. Not for you. You don’t need Arthur’s rent, you just said. Was he a friend?”
    “No, we hardly ever talked.”
    “I say we celebrate your freedom. Come on over for dinner with me and my husband. We’ll have cocktails, wine, good food, and cake. And you can talk to MacBean all you want.”
    “Thanks, Ginny. You’re a good neighbor.”
    “I don’t know about that. I’m sure a nosey neighbor. And I have one more piece of advice. Go to one of those senior citizens clubs around here. Go to more than one. The women outnumber the men. You’d be really popular. Then you can talk to me over the fence and tell me about your conquests. Might be almost as good as my soap operas.”
    I was pleased.

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