My neighbors
have their bathing suits on. It's finally the right day for it. They're sunning
themselves in their back yard, sitting in the Adirondack chairs she painted a
green slightly paler than the lawn. I don't know why it pleases me to see them
out there, but it does. Says something about the rightness of things or the blessings of living in America or just that folks can stay married and like each other after a
long time.
Their girls
are gone now, both in college, one a graduate student. They work
hard to keep the house and yard up. And it's beautiful. When they first bought
the house--it's Hessing's house, you know--they said they didn't know how long they would stay. It has been
about eight years. Maybe nine. They have redone the master bedroom, made
several other major improvements. Seems like they'll stay. I hope so. They are
good neighbors.
She is
blonde, fair. Like me. When I was young we used to lie out on the beach,
get ourselves burned and tanned. We had to, you know. It's what we did, because everyone knew we needed to be tan.
Now I
go to the dermatologist twice a year because of skin cancer. I've had three surgeries
and many zaps with liquid nitrogen. My face is healing from a biopsy and from
zapping right now.
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