What a lovely weekend! The weather was off the hook and we had literally no plans. I felt ashamed and thrilled about this and carefully made time to berate myself for being a zombie but it was a wonderful weekend. I read some great books, did some Zumba and yoga and had an excellent chat at Zumba. Maybe this person could be a friend? She was very fun.

As a family we went out for lunches at neighborhood spots. Daisy, Calvin and I went shopping at a giant junk sale full of dusty, random junk. I found nothing but an off-year Pierre Franey cookbook and didn’t buy it but Daisy bought a skirt.

Yeah, seriously nothing anyone could chat about in the Tuesday hell-Zoom. It was relaxing, mostly, except for the Party next door.

It happened. The contractor who also takes her to doctor’s appointments and poorly drives her car, and his wife and daughters attended (the contractor cleaned up before they left). After a few hours Maggie’s alley friend came (the guy who told Calvin he was a very bad person) and stayed for pizza and cake.

From where I was spying (our bedroom window, the deck, and then hidden behind a wall in the alley), it seemed to be a lovely party where only Maggie talked. The kids colored with sidewalk chalk and Maggie laughed and laughed. I tried to nap through the party, but we had forced Daisy to put her college stuff away (after a week of being home) so she was stomping around loudly unpacking so I didn’t really nap and finally just got up and looked out the window.

My heart sank. The new neighbors—the young man, his girlfriend, and their big labradoodle—were at the party. The girlfriend had a watermelon in her arms. As I stared, they were sucked into the party crowd. Suddenly there was a photo taken. People whooped. Someone whooped.

The idea that the neighbors, whom I had personally chatted with about Maggie, would attend her party, was a punch in the stomach. Did this mean Maggie was right about me? I mean, if two people who knew both of us could go to a party at her place (outside her place), then I really must be a terrible person.

Then the neighbors and their dog backed up and out of her driveway and drifted politely up to their own apartment. They were just walking past. They didn’t choose her.

After that moment, things looked up. I am a little rattled that I am so easily rattled. Can I live with her presence for the rest of my life? Will it actually be a choice?

We shall have to wait and see. But here I am at the party too.