The Universe Is On Its Own

So far, as neighbors go, I can’t complain about Reynelle. I’ve decided to ignore the plastic playhouse on the overlook and I’ve disbanded any notion of alerting the HOA to it as the blatant violation that it is, someone having pointed out to me that had Lainie been the one with small kids who had put it there, I wouldn’t say a word. I’ve decided to live with the fake potted palm on the step, even considering it had blown over in the wind last night and effectively presented itself to me as a major tripping hazard this morning. Again, had Lainie been the one to put it there, I’d never have given it a second thought. There’s a lot to be said for the simple fact that perhaps what I’ve been told is correct and the primary reason I’m more skeptical of this new addition to the building than I otherwise would be is that I didn’t want the person she replaced to move in the first place.

There’s also something to be said for the fact that, as it was also pointed out to me, she’s renting. It’s a year lease. The odds of her re-signing for another year, once she discovers how really non-conducive to raising kids the Old Dutch Village is, are pretty small. I should just mind my own business, keep an open mind about her and be very glad she’s across the hall and not directly over my head. Judging by the amount of running, jumping, and yelling I heard through her door when I left this morning, having her as an upstairs neighbor wouldn’t be pleasant.

Things in Lainie’s world seem to be about as settled right now as a flight stuck in turbulence, but hopefully they’ll work themselves out soon. Yesterday she had The Big Discussion with Blake, finally addressing all the oddities in his behavior she thought they’d addressed months ago. The whole phone thing. The secretive stuff. The fact that it’s been eight months now and he hasn’t introduced her to anyone in his family, and they’re all local. The fact that after eight months he isn’t comfortable categorizing their relationship as anything beyond, “We’re dating,” and when she slips up and uses the word ‘boyfriend’ or ‘relationship’ he lets her know he’s ‘not ready to go there yet’, although he’s perfectly fine with spending another night. I don’t blame her for wanting to know where she stands, and I think she did the right thing in asking him about it. Not that she got any answers, really. He needed time to sort things out.

He’s a guy, I reminded her, by way of hopefully cheering her up. The letter was something like three pages long. That’s a lot for him to digest. If he cared about her he’d be back, and if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be. Pretty simple and pretty universal law of the universe, and I don’t know if it cheered her up or not and probably didn’t but it was all I really knew to say. She’s working a second job tomorrow and Saturday and if she isn’t out of the dumps by Sunday, it’s probably time to corral her over for dinner and a movie. Which is, by the way, a ruse. Dinner happens but the whole movie thing really translates as just sitting around and talking things out, like we used to do on the front steps.

Which, in all honesty, I miss very much. Just not so much that I’d consider doing it with The Odd Girl Downstairs, who, as I said, has been uber-friendly since Lainie moved. Or even Reynelle, although I have the sinking feeling I’d probably like her a lot once I got to know her. Sometimes what you do isn’t about what you’re doing, but more about who you’re doing it with. Lainie is the kind of friend I can just sit on a step with. Holly is the same.

Besides, with the addition of that potted palm, there’s not much room left on the step, anyway, so without Lainie and I to get the job done, the universe will just have to figure itself out.