Off The Record
For Three Years, My Neighbor Did Not Show Her Child To Anyone
My neighbor lived behind locked doors with a child no one had ever seen for three years, hardly leaving her home. My heart stopped as I saw why, as soon as I got a glance through the window.
Nelly, my neighbor, always seemed strange. I had not seen her outside in three years, unless she was driving to the grocery store or checking the mail. The fact that she had been heavily pregnant when she moved in made it feel even stranger. But over these three years, nobody had ever seen her baby.
In an attempt to shake off the bad feeling, I shake my head. I mumbled to myself, “Get it together, Martha,” as I held onto the sink’s edge.
Later that night, my husband Evan and I watched our boys kick a soccer ball around the yard while we sat on the porch. Even though the setting sun had painted the sky in pink and orange hues, I was still feeling anxious.
“Evan,” I said tentatively. “Have you noticed anything odd about our neighbor?”
He sipped his beer and arched an eyebrow. “Nelly? How about her?”
She’s simply very lonely. She virtually fled when I went to chat with her at the grocery store the other day.
With his arm casually slung over the back of the porch swing, Evan laughed. “Martha, some folks simply aren’t social butterflies. Block parties and neighborhood barbecues aren’t for everyone.
“Well, I guess. However, what about her child? The child hasn’t been seen in three years. Isn’t that peculiar?”
He shrugged as he watched the lads play. Perhaps she is merely being protective. Honey, don’t worry so much. Pay attention to our family.
I made an effort to grin, but the nagging sensation remained. “You’re correct. I’m probably thinking too much about it.”
Evan kissed my cheek as he leaned over. “My girl is that. How about we play a game with the lads now?”
I took a final look at Nelly’s house as we left the porch. For a brief moment, I thought I saw a tiny face peeking out as the drapes twitched. However, it vanished when I blink.
I saw Nelly harvesting herbs in her garden a week later. I took advantage of the situation and went over to the fence. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” I enthusiastically yelled out.
Nelly’s eyes widened in terror as her head jerked up. She ran inside and shut the door behind her before I could say anything more.
“Well, that was rude.”
“Talking to yourself, Martha?” Someone spoke up. I turned to find Mrs. Freddie, my neighbor, looking over the fence. “What in the world was that about?”
“I don’t know. But Mrs. Freddie, something is wrong. I sense it.”
“I’ll take care of it, my love. I’ll investigate this more.”
“What are you planning?”
She gave a wink. “You’ll see. Sometimes all it takes to get past a difficult situation is a little Southern hospitality.”
I couldn’t help but question whether we were exaggerating the situation when Mrs. Freddie vanished into her home.
However, Nelly’s actions were a sharp contrast to the amicable gatherings that were common in our charming area.
The following day, I was standing at the kitchen window once more, this time observing Mrs. Freddie as she strode toward Nelly’s door. She had a baked apple pie in her hands.
I leaned closer to the glass and whispered, “This should be interesting.”
With a broad smile on her face, Mrs. Freddie knocked and waited. I held my breath as the seconds passed.
At last, the door opened just a little. I strained to hear what was being said, but all I could hear was Nelly’s piercing voice saying, “Go away!” and then slamming it again.
Anger flushing her face, Mrs. Freddie rushed back. Halfway across my lawn, we met.
She handed over the rejected pie and said, “Did you see that?” “The nerve of that woman!”
“Mrs. Freddie, what is she concealing? This is not typical conduct.”
“I don’t know, dear, but mark my words… there’s something fishy going on in that house.”
I couldn’t get rid of the notion that we were about to discover something significant as we stood there making assumptions. Something that would permanently alter our peaceful suburban life.
I discovered a letter addressed to Nelly while going through the mail a few days later. The mailman must have jumbled up our boxes. As I gazed at the envelope, a thought began to take shape.
“This is my chance,” I muttered, looking around as though Nelly might show up out of nowhere.
I headed over to her place. I was about to go to the front door when I noticed a movement. My curiosity overcame me, and I looked out the window.
My heart stopped beating.
A youngster, perhaps three years old, returned my gaze. There was something so familiar about his gaze. And I was all too familiar with the birthmark on his cheek.
With a spine-tingling scream, I fell to the steps, my legs collapsing.
The small boy’s face was the last thing I saw before darkness took me.
“Martha! Can you hear me, Martha?”
Above me, people swam into focus as I blink. With anxious expressions on their faces, my neighbors gathered around. Mrs. Freddie was using a moist cloth to dab at my forehead, her face furrowed in concern.
She helped me sit up and asked, “What happened?”
Like a freight train, the recollection struck me. Disregarding their objections, I scurried to my feet and banged on Nelly’s door.
“Nelly! It’s Martha. I am aware of your child’s father! Open up!”
The door creaked slowly open, and the neighborhood held its breath. The young child peered out from under Nelly’s legs as she stood there, pallid and shaky.
Everyone around me gasped when they saw what I had: the child’s cheek bore a birthmark that was just like my husband’s.
“How could you?” Tears were flowing down my face as I gasped out.
With despair etched on every limb, Nelly’s shoulders slumped. Martha, I’m very sorry. This is not what I intended to occur.
The young child pulled on Nelly’s skirt. “Mommy, who’s that lady?”
His innocent inquiry broke my heart. Whispering, “I’m your father’s wife,” I said.
Nelly’s living room was where we sat. Nelly sat across from me, while Tommy, the small kid, played peacefully in the corner.
I insisted, “Start from the beginning,”
Nelly’s hands twisted in her lap as she took a trembling breath. “I met Evan at a bar four years ago. We clicked. I thought that would only happen once, but then I discovered I was expecting a child.”
“And?”
“I informed Evan. He went into a panic. argued that he couldn’t let his family go. He said that if I would keep it a secret, he would look after me and the baby.”
“By hiding away for three years?”
Nelly nodded, her cheeks flushed with humiliation. “Moving me next door was his idea. He believed it would be simpler to monitor the situation. However, I had to swear that I would never talk to anyone, particularly you, and that I would never take Tommy outside.”
I turned to see Tommy, whose naive expression served as a bitter reminder of Evan’s treachery. “Is he aware? About Evan being his dad?”
Nelly gave a headshake. “No. Tommy believes Evan is merely a friend, but he occasionally pays him a visit.”
The realization came as a huge shock to me. Late hours at the office and all those business travels. For what duration had this been occurring directly in front of me?
“What happens now?” More to myself than to Nelly, I inquired.
After a moment of hesitation, she put a hand on my arm. “Martha, whatever you decide. If you want us to go, I’ll understand.”
I sprang to my feet suddenly, having to get away. “I need time to think.”
As I hurried home, tears were covering my eyes.
In a blur of tears and restless nights, the week passed slowly.
As my heart broke into a million pieces, I took care of my boys and went through the motions. I always saw the brother my sons, Jake and Ethan, were unaware they had when I looked at them.
I was waiting for Evan when he got back from his weeklong business vacation. I had prepared myself for the confrontation by practicing this moment for days.
I said, “Welcome home, honey,”
Evan dropped his briefcase bag, and his face brightened. “Hey, lovely. Do you miss me?”
“Obviously. I am going to give you a surprise.”
“Oh, I see. What is it?”
I pointed to a tabletop envelope. “Open it.”
When Evan understood what he was holding, his smile vanished as he ripped into the envelope. divorce documents.
“Martha, what—”
I interrupted him with a clap of my palms. Just as expected, Nelly came out of the kitchen holding Tommy.
Evan’s face lost its hue. “My God! I can explain, Martha—”
“Preserve it. I am fully informed. Evan, we’re done.”
He staggered back, glancing wildly between Tommy, Nelly, and myself. “Let me explain, please. It was an error.”
“An error? Forgetting to obtain milk is a mistake. This? This is a betrayal. Evan, you deceived me for years. You have a new child.”
Tommy started crying as a result of the louder sounds. With a disgusted glance at Evan, Nelly hushed him.
It was quite the aftermath. After the divorce, Evan’s parents, appalled by their son’s behavior, compensated me with half of their business.
I agreed since I knew it would protect my babies’ future.
Nelly and Tommy, on the other hand, soon left. I had some sympathy for them. However, a greater portion was too preoccupied with healing.
I had an epiphany one afternoon as I was watching my boys play in the backyard. Even though I can’t alter the past, I can influence the future.
I beckoned the boys over and gave them a firm embrace.
I said, “Listen to me,” as I gazed into their naive faces. “I want you to make me a promise. Be truthful, considerate, and courteous at all times. You should treat people the way you would like to be treated. Could you please do it for me?”
They gave me a serious nod, and I began to feel hopeful. I was resolved to raise my boys to be better men than their father, even though the path ahead would be difficult.
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