1 of 3
I peered out my daughter's bedroom window and spotted Kathy, our next-door neighbor, dancing to the music from her headset as she pushed her lawnmower. What woman enjoys cutting the grass? Kathy glanced up and caught me watching.
I waved and blushed. Kathy and I were nothing alike. She belonged to a breed of women who intimidated and intrigued me—she followed her heart and lived fearlessly. Kathy kept her short hair spiked; it varied from platinum blonde to vibrant burgundy. Each week, she tried a new polish color. On special occasions her big toes sported ornate designs.
I, on the other hand, was a former high-school valedictorian who remained the serious-minded nerd—striving for perfection and fearing what others thought of me. I painted my nails with clear polish, and I've only worn my hair short once, when my mom surprised me with a pixie haircut when I turned six.
Kathy's a single mom. She and Drew, her only son, moved in when Drew was 15. Four summers in a row, she drove Drew and his buddies from our neighborhood near Atlanta to Panama City Beach, Florida. We stayed home with our three children, dutifully tackling our chores: pressure wash the house, clean the closets, and reseed the lawn.
The Party GirlOne steamy August afternoon after Drew graduated from high school, I spotted Kathy at the mailbox—our daily meeting place. "I have some news," Kathy shouted.
She bounded toward me wearing cut-off jean shorts. Pretty rings covered her fingers and toes. "Drew wants to become a sailor. He leaves for the Navy this December." Her husky voice rose in excitement.
"Wow, I know you're proud." I studied her expression, watching for concern.
"I sure am! I'm going to throw a big send-off barbeque next Saturday. Ya'll come," she replied.
The following Saturday night, my husband, Rick, and I walked next door, where Kathy's carport was packed with Drew's friends. She made having a party look effortless and fun. I dreaded hosting parties, with the endless lists, cleaning, and fixing everything just so.
"Girlfriend, ya'll come fix a plate," Kathy greeted us. As she gave me a happy hug, I noticed her array of flag earrings. Red, white, and blue streamers twirled across the carport. When the music cranked up, all the kids danced—the kids and Kathy.
With his new crew cut, Drew already looked like a sailor. "We're so proud of you," I said, handing him a small gift.
"Thank you," he replied politely. "And thanks for being such good neighbors to my mom." Have we been? I remembered lending sugar and exchanging Christmas cards. Each winter Rick lit her pilot light.
In March, after Drew finished basic training, Kathy knocked at my door with more news. She wore a bathing-suit top with white jeans and pink flip-flops—rushing the season, my mother would say. "Girlfriend, my Drew graduated with honors!" she spread her fingers wide in excitement. "He's going to stay in the Navy."
 E-mail this page   Print this article  Post a comment |
