Knot Hole Neighbor

Chapter 1

John sat at his breakfast table, mopping up syrup with the last bite of pancakes, thinking about how his life had changed over the past few months. He'd been living in this house for six weeks and he still couldn't get over how quiet the neighborhood was compared to the apartment he'd left. Buying a home had been impulsive. But, after his promotion, he had a sudden desire for more space and a quieter environment. When you work from home, the constant noise and distraction in an apartment complex can be impossible. The backyard pool had been the deciding factor, though. He'd spent most of his adult life (granted, that was technically only six years, but still...) in tight spaces with paper-thin walls. The idea of having an oasis to float on whenever he wanted had felt like a ridiculous luxury.

Besides, the deal had been too good to pass up, way below market value. Now he sat in his breakfast nook wearing only gym shorts, listening to the birds chatter outside. He kept asking himself why he hadn't done this earlier. Sure, having graduated from college just three short years ago may have had something to do with that.

An unexpected knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts. His family was three states away, and he hadn't really made friends in the neighborhood, yet. A few waves across the lawns, sure, and a nod here and there when he pulled into the driveway, but nothing that would bring a Sunday morning visit.

He pushed back from the table, crossed the living room, and opened the door ready to politely decline whatever some stranger was trying to sell or push. Man, did he get an unexpected surprise.

"Hi! I'm Mickey. From next door." She gestured vaguely toward the house to his left. It was almost identical to his, except for those bright yellow shutters. "I promise I'm not a weirdo. I mean, well, not too much of one, anyhow," she snickered.

The woman on his porch was gorgeous, and she looked to be around his age, with sun-streaked brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail and a smile that filled her entire face. A white tank top clung to the shape of her breasts like a second skin, and her cut-off shorts rode high on her hips and dove deep between her legs. A towel was draped over one shoulder, and she had a set of oversized sunglasses perched on top of her head.

John blinked, still processing the sudden arrival of this extremely attractive woman at his doorstep. "Oh. Yeah. Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm John."

"You too! Finally, right?" She let out a bright laugh. "I've watched you coming and going, but you always seemed so locked in. I thought I would let you settle in first, before I introduced myself. Six weeks felt like enough time, don't you think?"

"Six weeks." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling suddenly underdressed. "Wow, I hadn't really realized it had been that long already."

"Time flies when you're busy unpacking and arranging, I guess." She shifted her weight, and he caught a glint of sweat on her collarbone. The day was already proving to be hot, the kind of summer morning that turns brutal by noon. "So, I have a small favor to ask. And, feel free to say no. Seriously, I won't be offended at all."

"Okaaaayyy..." he said in a long, drawn-out way, a little suspicious of what was about to come.

"My kids are with their dad this weekend. They usually go every other, and he'll drop them off around four. I had this whole weekend mapped out for myself, you know. A bit of me-time, a quiet kind of deal. Manicure yesterday, dinner with friends last night, and today..." She paused, her eyebrows lifting in anticipation.

She leaned against the doorframe like they'd known each other for years instead of five minutes. "Well, since I don't have a pool, and the community pool is packed, I was thinking maybe, if you were around today and didn't mind a little company, I could come over and share yours and lie in the sun on your patio?"

She held up a hand. "Totally fine if not! I know it's weird to just show up and ask someone to use their pool. But I saw you out there a few times, and I figured it couldn't hurt to ask."

John felt a blush creep over his face, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. He'd been careful. Or at least he thought he had. Morning swims when the neighbors were presumably still asleep. Mid-afternoon cool-downs before neighbors came home. Late evening floats when the sun had already dipped behind the trees. He hadn't exactly been hiding, but he hadn't expected anyone to be paying attention either.

"Sure," he said, the word coming out before his brain fully engaged. "I mean, yeah. That's fine. I don't have any plans today."

"Really?" Her face brightened. "Oh, you're a lifesaver. Honestly. I've been desperately wanting to lounge by a pool, and the community pool is always packed. And full of yelling kids. I need some peace and quiet."

"Let me just..." he started, pointing vaguely behind him. "Let me clean up my breakfast real quick. But, yeah, come on around to the back."

"Perfect!" She was already stepping off the porch, giving him a view that went straight to his groin. "I'll grab my stuff and meet you there in five minutes. And I promise I'm a very low-maintenance guest. I basically just lie there and bake like a lizard, cooling off in the water now and then."

He watched her jog back toward her house, her perfect heart-shaped ass flexing with each step, and tried to ignore that weird flutter in his chest.

He scraped the remains of breakfast into the trash, put the plate into the dishwasher, and tried to remember if he'd left anything embarrassing laying around in the backyard. Towels, sunscreen, and that book he'd been reading last week, which he'd dropped in the pool and had to dry out on the patio table.

When he slid the back door open, the air hit him like a ton of bricks. Humid and heavy, the kind of heat that makes breathing feel like work. The pool was a perfect aqua-blue, the water flat except for the small ripple from the filter. His patio furniture was left by the previous owners, but it worked well enough for him. A round table with an umbrella, four chairs, and a chaise lounge whose cushions had seen better days. Now that he was about to have company, he realized how grungy and worn it actually looked.

He was straightening the cushions when Mickey showed up at the gate, wrestling with a canvas beach chair and a cooler that seemed way too big for a single person.

"Let me give you a hand with that," he said, crossing the patio in a few strides.

"Thanks." She passed him the chair with a grateful exhale. "I may have grabbed more than I need. But, in my defense, I like being ready for everything. Snacks, drinks, magazines, and an extra towel, in case I actually end up going in the water instead of just threatening to."

He set the chair close to the patio edge, in a patch of sunlight that was already sweltering. "Are you actually going in?"

"Oh, absolutely. Your pool looks amazingly refreshing." She put the cooler down with a thud, then lifted the lid to show an impressive array of drinks. "Water, iced tea, a few of those fancy sparkling waters if that's your thing. And I brought beer, but I thought I should ask before cracking one open at ten in the morning."

"A beer in the hand by ten on a Sunday morning is basically mandatory, right?"

"That's what I keep telling myself." She took out a bottle, twisted the cap, and took a long sip. "God, that hits. Nothing like a Sunday beer to make you feel as if you're away from it all."

John grabbed a water, mostly so his hands had something to do. He was still trying to wrap his head around how he ended up with such a beautiful stranger in his backyard, but she was so comfortable, it felt like she belonged.

"So," he said, settling into one of the patio chairs, "you mentioned kids?"

"Two, Melissa, seventeen going on thirty-seven. And Matt's fourteen, going on..." She laughed, waving a hand. "Somewhere chaotic. They're good kids, but being teenagers, they're a lot. Every other weekend with their dad is my time to reset. I love them to death, but I also love peace and quiet, you know?"

"I can't imagine." He tried to picture children running through his yard, toys scattered across the lawn, shouting and splashing in the pool. The scene didn't quite fit with the solitude he'd gotten used to. "I love kids. I was a lifeguard at the neighborhood pool back in high school. But, I don't have any of my own."

"Count yourself lucky. Or maybe unlucky, depends on how you see it." She was already pulling things out of her bag--sunscreen, a paperback novel with a cover that showed a woman in a flowing dress running across a moor, and more sunglasses. "They are exhausting, wonderful, and exhausting again. This weekend has been like a tiny sample of freedom. I slept until nine yesterday. Nine! Do you know how long it's been since I slept past seven?"

"Can't say that I do."

"Over seventeen years," she said with a mix of pride and exhaustion. "Since before Melissa was born. Motherhood steals your sleep and never gives it back. Especially single-motherhood."

She stood and pulled her tank top over her head in one smooth motion, and John forced himself to stare at the pool. Her bikini was red and bright, standing out against her tanned skin, the top tied in the back with strings that looked precariously small. When she shimmied out of her cut-offs, he caught the matching bottoms, nothing more than a couple of triangles of fabric connected by thin strings at her hips.

"Mind if I use your bathroom real quick?" she asked, oblivious--or at least pretending to be oblivious to the reaction he had as she stripped down to practically nothing in his backyard.

"The bathroom is through the living room, down the hall. First door on the left."

"Thanks!"

She went inside, and John let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. This was fine. Entirely normal. Neighbors borrow stuff all the time: sugar, lawnmowers, pools. Nothing unusual about it.

When she came back, she grabbed the sunscreen she had left on the table and started working it onto her shoulders in a slow, almost sensuous way. "I always miss certain areas when I try to reach my back. Do you mind?"

He paused for a moment before taking the bottle from her. "Sure."

The sunscreen was warm, and her skin was soft and smooth beneath his hands. He tried to keep his touch light, non-sensual, but the shape of her shoulders and the dip along her spine made that difficult. She turned her head enough that he could see her profile and the soft curve of her smile.

"Thanks. I'm bad at reaching the center part of my back. I end up with these strange sunburn stripes."

"No problem."

She settled into her beach chair, letting out a long, satisfied sigh while she stretched her arms high above her head. Her body was incredible, toned and curved in ways that said motherhood wasn't taking it away. He couldn't see a single trace of the stretch marks he would have expected, no extra softness around her midsection either. Her body looked untouched from child-bearing.

"Wait," John suddenly blurted. "You said your kids are seventeen and fourteen? What did you do? Start when you were seven?"

Mickey chuckled. "No. Actually twenty-one. I had Melissa between junior and senior year of college."

"You're... thirty-eight? No way in hell. I was thinking maybe twenty-three, twenty-five at most. Wow."

"Thanks. You are a sweet talker, aren't you?"

"No, seriously. When I opened my door, I figured the woman that stood there was pretty close to my age. Twenty-four. Your body... Sorry. I shouldn't say things like that."

"Don't be shy. Tell me. Sweet talk me."

"Your body is incredible. And I can't believe you've had two kids. Nothing about you indicates you bore children. Damn." John just shook his head.

"Speaking of them, they're with their dad until four, you said, right?"

"Four-ish. Rick's usually late. It works in my favor when I need extra time, it works against me when he is supposed to have them home for something." She pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes, leaning back. "He's not a bad guy. We just weren't good together. Married too young, grew apart, younger secretary. You know, the usual story."

"Sounds complicated."

"Everything with kids is complicated. But you learn to navigate it." She tilted her head at him. "What about you? Any ex-wives tucked away somewhere in the woodwork?"

"None. Never married." He shrugged. "I was too focused on school, then work. I never really made time for the whole dating thing after high school."

"That's a shame. You're young. You should be out there having a little fun."

"I'm twenty-four. Plenty of time for that later."

"Later." she snorted. "That's what I said, and now I'm thirty-eight with two kids, and I'm staring at an empty nest. Life doesn't wait for you to be ready, John. It just happens."

The conversation carried on with comfortable and easy lulls in between as the sun climbed higher. John tried to wrap his head around this beautiful woman having two kids. And being fourteen years older than him. He caught himself enjoying her company more than he thought he would. She was talkative, but not in a way that drains the life out of you. She asked about his work, his family, why he picked this neighborhood in particular. The pool was the big reason.

"That's why we bought here. The community pool. Well, that and the school district, but mostly the pool." She paused, then added that she used to swim laps every morning after the kids left for school. "Now I'm lucky if I get in once a week."

"Why so infrequent?"

"Life. Work. Homework help and soccer practice, plus cooking dinners that at least one person in the house doesn't complain about." She leaned forward, adjusting her chair so it didn't recline quite so much. "Do you swim laps? You've got the body for it."

"Sometimes." He looked at the water, wondering why he didn't swim more laps. "Mostly I just float."

"Floating is underrated," she smiled, a genuinely warm expression. "Sometimes I just need to be in the water, without having to think about anything else. You know?"

He knew exactly.

The hours passed quickly as the conversation ebbed and flowed. The cooler slowly emptied as they worked through her different offerings. She finally stood and stretched, saying she needed to cool down, and he watched her walk to the pool's edge. It was obvious, but in a subtle way, that she was putting on a little show for him.

Water splashed around her as she dove in, surfacing with a gasp. "God, that's perfect. You keep this thing heated?"

"Solar panels on the pool house roof. But, haven't needed to for a month now."

"Smart," she nodded, water slicking her hair back. So, you can probably use it all year round then, huh? I wanted solar for our house, but Rick wouldn't do it. Too pricey, he said."

"I'm hoping so." John moved to the side and sat down, his legs dangling in the water. "You talk about him a lot."

"Do I?" She floated on her back, body stretched out, calm. "I guess I'm just used to him being part of the narrative. It's hard to talk about my life without him in there somewhere."

"That makes sense."

She turned herself, treading water. "What about you? Any stories you're tired of telling?"

"More like stories I don't have yet." He waved a hand in a loose way toward the house. "New city, new job, new everything. I'm still figuring out who I am here."

"That sounds like a good thing though, a fresh start." She swam closer, her shoulder brushing against his leg. "I've lived in that house for twelve years. Every room carries a memory. Some of them good, some not. Some days I think I should just gather my things and begin somewhere new."

"Why don't you?"

"Kids. School. Inertia." She shrugged, her shoulders just above the waterline. "It's easier to stay than to uproot everything."

The sun had reached its peak, blazing down mercilessly. John slipped into the pool, the cool water shocking his system into alertness. Mickey stayed where she was, watching him, her expression unreadable behind her sunglasses--like she was deciphering a quiet book.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked.

"Sure."

"I've been watching you for weeks."

He went still. "What?"

"Not in a creepy way," she laughed, but it came out sounding nervous. "Well, maybe a little creepy. There's a knot-hole in the fence between our yards, right there by the oak tree. I noticed it a few months ago when I was pruning my flowers. Must've just fallen out."

"Okay..."

"Anyway, I might've peeked through it a few times. Just to see who moved in. And I might've seen you...sunbathing." She paused, letting the words sink in.

Heat flooded John's face. "I...uh...what?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. The first time was an accident. I heard splashing and wondered if you had guests. And then you got out and were just... there. Lying by the pool, without anything on."

He felt completely exposed, despite the shorts he had on. The backyard suddenly felt smaller, the fences lower, the trees more sparse. Every private moment he thought he'd enjoyed, now felt observed, witnessed.

"How many times?" he managed.

"A few," she said, her cheeks turning pink. "Like I said, the first time was an accident. After that..." She kind of trailed off, shrugging, as if the rest was obvious. "You're not hard to look at, John. And it's been a long while since I've seen anything like that."

"I had no idea." His voice came out a bit strangled. "I thought the fence was high enough."

"It is, for normal purposes. That knot hole just happens to be in the right place. And honestly, I don't think anyone else knows about it. I'm certainly not planning to make it public."

He dragged a hand over his face, trying to process what she'd just told him. His neighbor, this incredible woman, the mother of two he'd just met, had been watching him sunbathe nude through a hole in the fence. And she was admitting it so casually, like they were discussing the weather. Just a normal conversation.

"You're embarrassed," she noticed.

"Obviously I'm embarrassed. I've been..."

"I enjoyed it." Her voice lowered, growing softer. "It's been a long time since I've felt anything, John. Really felt it. Watching you was... nice."

He didn't know what to say. The water lapped around them, gentle, almost lazy, while the birds continued their chatter above, as if nothing in the world had changed. His thoughts were spinning through responses, jokes, little sidesteps. But she was looking at him with an openness that somehow made all the usual deflection feel impossible.

"You know," he finally said quietly. "Now that I think about it, I thought I had heard something. Last week. At first I told myself it was just the way the wind was blowing. But, it sounded like... heavy breathing and a soft moan. I thought I was imagining it."

Now it was her turn, her face flushing bright pink until it crept down her neck and onto her chest. "Oh God."

"Was that..."

"Can we pretend I didn't bring any of this up?" she groaned, covering her face with her hands. "This is so embarrassing. I swear I'm not usually like this. I just, when I get lonely, sometimes I..."

"You don't have to explain," he cut her off, even though his own face was still burning, too. "We're adults. It's fine."

"Is it?" She peeked through her fingers, trying to see if he was upset, to read his face. "I just admitted to spying on you and... well. God. This is not how I thought this morning would go."

He laughed, surprising even himself. "Me neither."

"I should go," she said as she began swimming toward the edge. "The kids will be back soon, and I need to shower and... something, I don't know, just reset everything. Maybe a cold shower."