Does anyone remember that light I mentioned in this very blog weeks ago? Or did I? Did I mention Maggie has installed lights on her front stoop that shine directly into our living room.

Calvin was very peeved about it.

Oh sweet baby Jesus, am I still missing the point?

Calvin says she’s out back, with bags, waiting to be picked up.

Is she leaving?

She just posted on Facebook a photo of the letter her soon-to-be ex-husband sent to his parents telling them he and Maggie were getting married. We did note that the ex-husband asked his parents to call him “asap” when they received the letter. I’m just trying to understand the calculus of his decision—too expensive to call them, or would he rather they adjust to the decision before they spoke? Also he told his parents the date of the wedding, and said he didn’t want to crowd a sibling’s summer wedding, so they picked end of May and had the whole thing set up.

It felt like a significant piece of the story. I interpreted it as Maggie railroaded this guy into the marriage and he was not a bold guy.

She just drove away. Now her Alley Love, the guy who has yelled at us and we have yelled at, is there. But again, I am burying the lede.

THE FLOODLIGHTS ARE CAMERAS. SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOPLE

Calvin and I just figured it out.

Today has felt like an ordinary day but I suspect it may be a special day. I suspect this day is Maggie’s moving day. Maybe pre-moving day? Something is shifting.

Here’s how today went: my mother is visiting and has just been lovely. Work is calm and fun. Kids are a delight. We saw Leopoldstadt last night, so before the play we had dinner at a Times Square pre-theater French restaurant, which did an all-restaurant singalong of A Partridge in a Pear Tree. Wyatt was given a placard that read “3 French hens,” so he held it way up when that part of the song came on. We faithfully bellowed as much of the song as we knew. The play was a lot to think about. And then Calvin and I banned the cats from our room because we are legitimately afraid they will scratch one of our faces or eyes as they war games each other across our inert bodies. They are like tiny aggressive elephants who then demand to snuggle.

This morning was groggy on many levels, but just groggy. No dread in the mix, that I could detect.

My family brain was thinking about the tie Wyatt ordered for his dad. Calvin asked for a tie, and no one knows how to pick a tie. Wyatt and I picked one out and we are not sure it’s a good one. For context, Wyatt is being thoughtful about gifts in a way I have never witnessed in a human (also, we’re paying for lots of it, so that is that, and that ain’t nothing).

Wyatt tracks his gifts and worries about when they will arrive, and why I didn’t think his gift idea for Daisy was as awesome as he did. I explained and he understood and we had a great chat about things, but I did come away thinking I needed to be vigilant about the arrival of the tie.

Have I mentioned I have already lost/misplaced/been robbed by a thief who opened the front door, stole a heavy box of books and ignored all the other valuable items within grabbing distance and vanished, a box of presents already in the house, and it agitated me?

So the tie is coming and Wyatt asked me to tell him when it arrived. I leave all the packages in a big heap until tomorrow, so I made a mental note to read my email with more interest the next day, which is when the tie is scheduled to come.

Today Calvin, my mom, and I had a big Greek seafood and lamb lunch with wine and a fantastic salad. It was festive, tasty and pleasant. We talked about why England seems like a place we’d rather not admire anymore. I mean, still traffic with culturally, but we can stop thinking about England as an elder statesman. No more bringing up Winston Churchill and his diaries, which my parents, namely my dad, was obsessed with for almost a decade. So I am not bashing England. I am just saying I don’t want to be like them in most ways except books and plays and pop music, except for the Beatles.

Still, fuck the Beatles.

After lunch we sent mom on her way and returned to nap off the lunch. I groggily checked email, only to see the tie has been delivered. No package from the retailer in the big heap. I rush outside, no package.

I wonder if it was delivered to the wrong place. I go over to Maggie’s stoop, climb up a small ledge, and peer at the packages on her stoop. I don’t see mine so I leave. I don’t think I even mutter anything unfriendly.

Then this email arrives

I was all, whoah! And told Calvin and then we talked about it and the post about the husband, and then it hit us at the same time: she has cameras! That’s why she knew it when Calvin would move her cameras so they didn’t point at us. We thought she was just more vigilant.

But no, she got cameras! And then she got to catch us being sneaky. But then, she caught me being anxious about Christmas presents. Did she not notice I checked the other neighbor’s stoop too?

Then she left from the back in her car, which she has been parking at Alley Friend’s spot for the past few weeks. Why did she do that? Why can’t I understand what she is doing?

Is she gone? Is it over? It can’t be over.