**WARNING:** I know it’s kind of long, and I will be the first to admit that it’s a tease, but this is essentially Chapter 1 of a much longer personal memoir project. If people enjoy it, I’ll probably expand into regular blog posts.
*Dappled*. That was the only word Tara could think of to describe it. She had never used the word before, even in her own mind, but as she looked out into the crisp spring morning, it felt like the only word that applied.
Yellow sunlight filtered through the foliage that dotted the condo complex. The old-growth trees and budding leaves were so numerous, Tara guessed that someone could walk the entire length of the shady, winding sidewalk and never once find themselves fully exposed to the sun.
The only break in the trees came at the center of the complex, where the sunlight had free reign to dance across the glittering surface of the long rectangular pool. Broad canvas umbrellas were on hand to provide shade when necessary, but for the moment they were collapsed and stacked neatly next to the clubhouse.
There were perhaps a dozen units in the complex, arranged in a wide oval, and each one faced the pool as they peeked out from the trees. From the large picture window in her front room, Tara could see the identical front windows of more than half of the other units. Some had their curtains drawn and some were open. From this distance, she could see into a few of the other front rooms, but mostly only light and contour. That gave her some relief, as her own window was currently without any curtains at all.
Tara’s view through the window was serene and idyllic, but things on her side of the glass were far less picturesque. Behind her, dozens of moving boxes perched atop each other in a maze of haphazard towers. Some of the boxes were open, things like “Kitchen” and “Linens” that were hard to live without for too long. But the heavier boxes that formed the towers’ foundations, things like “Books,” still lay untouched exactly where the movers had left them.
Tara sighed and rubbed her fingers into the back of her neck as she turned from the window and wandered through the boxes. She hadn’t been to work since the previous Wednesday, and it had taken her and Brayden all through the weekend to get out of the old apartment and into their condo in the suburbs. Now, on a Monday morning, Tara had the next forty-eight hours to get the place as livable as possible before heading back to work on Wednesday. The sheer volume of “stuff” around her was overwhelming, and she was still exhausted and stressed from the last four days of chaos. She sipped at her coffee and wondered why she’d ever agreed to let Brayden go back to work first and leave her home with the *real* hard work.
A dainty rap came at the door and Tara almost jumped. With her back to the front window, she hadn’t seen anyone approach, and this was the first time anyone had ever knocked on the Rowleys’ new front door.
She ran a hand along the loose ponytail holding back her dirty blonde hair. Tara didn’t have a smidge of makeup on and she was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and yoga pants; not a great first impression for whomever was on the other side of the door. With any luck it was just the UPS guy delivering any of the hundred things they were still waiting on from Amazon. But that was not a UPS knock.
Tara pulled open the front door and more dappled sunlight streamed into the house. On the porch stood a woman in a dusty pink top and pale jeans. On one hip she bounced an infant chewing on a plastic teething ring. The woman’s deep blue eyes went wide when Tara opened the door, and her face broke into a broad, genuine smile full of perfect little white teeth.
“Hi!” She exclaimed. “I’m Callie Parker, we just live across the way there.” She gestured to the other side of the pool. “Oh, and this is Jackson. I just wanted to stop in and introduce myself!”
Tara smiled. It was the most stereotypical suburban thing in the world. She and Brayden had been at their last apartment for over a year and had never once spoken to anyone else in the building. Out here they’d been moved in for less than twenty four hours and already, Tara felt like she had a friend.
“I’m Tara Rowley.” She said, shaking Callie’s free hand. “My husband is Brayden but he’s the lucky one that got to go to work today.”
Callie laughed a musical, lilting laugh that carried into the bright blue sky. Her mousy brown hair fell just past her ears and shimmered as she moved her head. She was short, though not as short as Tara herself, but slender with long spindly legs. Tara’s own legs were shorter and her whole body was more compact, with the remnants of lean muscles left over from her gymnast years. Callie, on the other hand, looked more like a cross country runner. Tara couldn’t help but wonder how she had squeezed a child out of such narrow hips…and how she’d gotten those hips back afterward.
“Micah is at work too.” The neighbor nodded in understanding. “He’s in pharmaceutical sales so they don’t really believe in PTO, no matter how much of a handful this little stinker becomes.” She bounced the baby on her hip and smiled.
“Oh yeah?” Tara replied. “I’m in healthcare too. Well, kind of. I’m in the HR department up at the Prentiss Medical Center.”
“Really? That’s exciting!” Callie exclaimed.
Now it was Tara’s turn to laugh. “Not exactly.”
“Well my days are split between wiping up mashed sweet potatoes and surfing the ‘Kids’ section on Netflix, so a conversation with another adult is the highlight of my day.”
The two chatted for a few more minutes until the baby began to fuss. Callie sighed and shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I guess that’s my cue that break time is over. Back to work!” She smiled.
“Thank you so much for coming over, it was great to meet you.”
Callie nodded. “You too. We’ll do dinner or lunch or something this week once you guys are a little more settled. The complex is full of great people, you’ll love it here.”
Tara smiled. “I certainly hope so.”
Callie started to turn, but stopped. She gave Tara a final, almost appraising look. The young mom chewed her tongue and allowed a smile to creep into her eyes. “Yeah…you’ll fit in just fine. I think we can make you feel right at home.” And just as quickly as it had come, the strange spell was broken. “Well, welcome to Woodridge!”
She turned on her heel and bounded down the driveway like a ballerina. Tara shut the door and returned to her now-cold coffee. She watched through her curtain-less front window as Callie Parker made her way around the edge of the pool area and up the walk to the house directly opposite the Rowleys’. The young brunette stepped through the unlocked door and disappeared.
The curtains of the Parkers’ front room were patterned in cream and a light periwinkle. They were open most of the way and if Tara squinted, she could just make out Callie’s slim silhouette when she passed between the front and rear windows.
The woman’s final comment had seemed strange. Not because of what Callie had said, but by *how* she’d said it. The rest of the conversation was perfectly normal, but Mrs. Parker’s final look and parting words gave Tara the uneasy feeling that the entire interaction had been more than just friendly chit-chat. Only now after the bubbly mom had left, did Tara feel strangely like she’d just walked out of a job interview. And if Callie had been conducting some kind of test, that begged the real question: had Tara passed?
She went about the next hour or so of her day and set to work organizing the belongings that they’d already unpacked. The last thing Tara wanted was to pull everything out of the cardboard before there was a definite place to put it.
She passed by the front window a dozen more times, and each time she did, Tara felt her eyes linger on the house with the cream and periwinkle curtains. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, in fact everything about the Woodridge Cove condo complex seemed perfectly normal. So what was it about the perfectly friendly Callie Parker that Tara just couldn’t shake?
It was just before ten, after all the minivans and commuter sedans had made their way out of the complex and into the world, that Tara saw the dark-haired man walking up the Parkers’ drive. He’d come from one of the other condos a few doors up from the Rowleys’, and he’d walked purposefully across the street and followed Callie’s same route around the pool. Tara watched as the man knocked once and Callie opened the door. Even from here Tara could see the woman’s room-brightening smile as she welcomed the dark-haired man into the house and closed the door. Tara tried to catch sight of either of them through the window, but to no avail.
A few minutes later, another man exited a home, this time just two doors up from the Parkers’. He strode up the winding sidewalk and then up Parkers’ driveway. Just as before, this man knocked on the front door and after a moment, Callie pulled the front door wide. She smiled broadly again and this time threw an arm around the visitor in a friendly embrace. Her arm slid from his neck and her hand found his as she guided him inside. The door closed and a moment later, someone tugged closed the cream and periwinkle curtains.
Callie was friendly, that much Tara already knew. And there was nothing particularly strange about having friends over. But it was 10AM on a Monday morning and two working-age men, still at home, had just gone to the home of a woman whose husband was not there. Tara knew it *could* be a book club or a poker game or a collective obsession with *The Price is Right*, but even coming from her sheltered upbringing, Tara’s mind couldn’t help but wander to more scandalous conclusions.
It was then that she decided it was time for a walk. She’d done good work in the last hour, and there were only so many pleasant spring days left before it got too hot to walk around comfortably. Tara found the new house keys on top of a stack of papers on the bar, and stepped out into the morning. She slid the deadbolt into place behind her and started off down the sidewalk.
Tara wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself. She was burning with curiosity about Callie Parker and what could be going on behind those drawn curtains. But whether for outward appearances or to make herself feel like less of a snoop, Tara took the long way around the complex.
There wasn’t another soul outside. Most of the hustle and bustle in Woodridge took place earlier in the morning: commuters rushing to their cars, moms herding kids into Subaru wagons bound for the nearby elementary school, and joggers warming up with a few laps around the Woodridge loop before they set off along the main road.
In all of that solitary silence, as Tara approached the house with the cream curtains she suddenly became aware of how loud her footsteps seemed on sidewalk. With every step closer her heart raced in her chest and the blood pounded in her ears.
Finally, her feet brought her to a stop in front of the Parker home. Tara hadn’t intended to stop, and now she looked more conspicuous than ever. She glanced around at all the other identical front windows to see if anyone was watching her stalk the sweet young mother that made up her only friend in this zip code.
As if pulled by some unseen force, Tara felt herself drawn up the driveway and toward the house. Her feet guided her not to the front door, but to the base of the small porch. From here she was less than five feet from the corner of Callie’s front window, and only from this distance could Tara now see the slim gap in the cream and periwinkle curtains.
She’d come this far. All her instincts told her to turn around and go home, or at least come up with a plausible excuse for peeping into windows. But Callie’s strange little smile and final words hung in her mind: *“…you’ll fit in just fine. I think we can make you feel right at home.”*
Tara took her first step. Then her second. Before she knew it she was only inches from the glass. The condo and the window were raised a few feet from the ground, and at her full height Tara barely came up to the bottom of the sill. As budding leaves rustled in the trees and cast dancing shadows on the dappled front lawn, the former gymnast pushed herself up onto her toes and peered through the tiny crack in the curtains.
Looking in from this angle, she couldn’t see much of anything. The Parkers’ front room held a long, angled sectional. Mounted above were family portraits, mostly of Callie and Micah, but with some newer additions that included the baby. In one corner was a potted plant and strewn around the carpeted floor was an assortment of infant toys.
And then Tara shifted her weight slightly and peered in from the opposite side. Her eyes fell to the center of the room. Callie Parker was perched atop the sectional’s ottoman on all fours. Her pink fingernails dug into the fabric and her small breasts swung in the air as the dark-haired man behind her plunged himself back and forth inside her. The second man, the one she had hugged like an old friend, had both hands around the back of her head as he thrust in and out of her mouth. It wasn’t violent or mean-spirited, but it was not lovemaking. And neither of these men was Callie Parker’s husband.
Tara stood on the front lawn, transfixed by the lewd scene before her. She had never seen anything like this before, and all the social implications took a backseat as her mind was entirely spellbound by the pure physicality of the act.
She didn’t know whether she stood there in shock for ten seconds or an entire minute. Tara’s sky blue gaze was fixed on Callie’s darker blue eyes. The woman stared up at the man in front of her. As the dark-haired man grabbed with white knuckles at her slender hips and the second man began pumping harder and harder in and out of her narrow throat, the young mother’s eyes crinkled up and she broke into that same sincere, bubbly smile.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8zfpa1/posting_here_first_to_see_if_its_worth_it_to
I thought this was a board for true stories?