Of Neighbors, Friends, and Lovers

Author's Note, Thanks again to kenjisato for editing and suggestions.

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Jennifer pulled into her driveway in front of her townhouse after another day at the clinic. Compared to her days in a hospital pediatric ward, the eight-to-five schedule of the clinic was a pleasure. But Jennifer sat in her car and reflected. Perhaps it was the three-month-old she examined that day.

She was lamenting her future, having just turned thirty-six and still single, and with no prospects in sight. As her neighbor pulled into his spot, she snapped out of her self-pity. 'I've got a great job! Stop thinking about it, accept it!' she reflected.

She got out of her car in time to greet her neighbor, Mark, "Hi, Mark." She smiled.

"Evening, Jen!" came the reply, as they walked to their respective front doors.

Mark was some pleasant eye candy for her. He had only moved in a couple of months before. And was ridiculously good looking; tall, not too muscular, and a face out of some fashion magazine.

"Going running?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah. Becomes an addiction."

"I'll let you go, then. Bye."

Jennifer entered her home and dropped her things on the table in the foyer. She looked in the mirror there and sighed. She reminded herself that she was never pretty, and that there were more curves now. Her one asset, that was often more a curse, was her rack and accompanying cleavage.

A curse, because too many of the men she had dated, and slept with, over the years could not see past her tits.

Jennifer dawdled in the front room, tidying up things that didn't need it. It was an excuse to keep an eye out front. And she was soon rewarded, as Mark stepped to the sidewalk in running shorts and doing some stretching, before heading off on his run.

"Jen! You idiot! He's just a guy," she said to herself with a laugh, before heading to the kitchen to make dinner.

*****

Friday evening, Jennifer drove into her driveway, her car filled with groceries. It was times like this that she lamented a garage so filled with so much stuff that she couldn't park her car in it.

As she struggled with some bags, she heard a voice, "Need some help?"

Jennifer turned to find Mark walking to her, clearly on his way out somewhere, in dress pants and a tailored shirt. She wondered if he had an ounce of fat on him.

"Going out, I see."

"Yeah, a date. Let me help," he replied, grabbing two bags.

As they walked to her front door, Jennifer asked, "Your last name, uh, Cunningham, right? I'm a terrible neighbor."

Mark piped in, "I'm the lousy neighbor. I wanted to talk to you. We should get to know each other. Would you be interested in coming over for lunch on Sunday?"

Jennifer blushed slightly, "You're the new kid on the block. I should have been the one inviting you."

"Well, let's see how Sunday goes then you can invite me some time."

The warm way he put it hit her, 'Damn, he's good. Looks and manners. Must charm the shit out of every woman he meets,' she thought to herself.

He dropped the groceries on her kitchen counter then turned, and seeing a photograph hanging in the dining room, walked up to it.

Jennifer saw him admiring it and followed. "Sensual, isn't it?"

"Brett Weston's Nude Dune. No?"

She was taken aback that he knew it. "Yes. One of the first things I bought when I could afford such things. Well, don't you have a date?"

He confirmed their lunch, then said goodbye. She closed the door after he left, and leaning against it, reflected warmly on the possibility of having him as a friend, and warned herself not to get attached.

That evening, Jennifer decided to catch up on some of her medical journals and sat in her recliner with them and a glass of wine. She liked the quiet; a chance to focus. As she was contemplating bed, she heard the faint sound of Mark's car pulling in.

'Alone, or...' she thought to herself.

Curiosity got the better of her and she peeked out a curtain only to see him helping a long-legged blonde out of his car. "Yes, just the type," she muttered to herself.

And it wasn't the same one she saw last time. "Two women in two months. A lady-killer!" She laughed. "Good thing I'm not his type."

That night, Jennifer crawled into bed naked, as she usually slept. Her mind kept wandering to next door, thinking about the passionate lovemaking likely happening. A hand gravitated to between her legs while the other cupped an ample breast. Normally, these little interludes would center around the movie star du jour. But this time, it was Mark. The image of him making love. It was her thighs his head was between. Next, on top of her, their lips locked together in wild abandon.

Her finger worked her clit furiously, bringing on her orgasm quickly, as her body thrashed about.

Catching her breath, she tried to discipline herself. No! She couldn't use him in her fantasies. It was asking for trouble.

Saturday, inspired by Mark, Jennifer was determined to at least try to get back in shape again. She wasn't going to start jogging right away, so settled for a long, brisk walk. As she headed out, she spied Mark's car still in his driveway.

By five that afternoon she returned, a bit pleased with herself at this first attempt. As she approached home, she saw the two of them heading to his car. Her first instinct was to slow down and avoid a meeting, then she resolved to meet his plaything.

"Hi, Mark."

"Jen, Hey. Working out?"

"Well, trying to."

"Oh, Jen, this is Debbie... Mays. Deb this is Jennifer... Kaminski."

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Kaminski." Debbie smiled with a touch of condescension.

Jennifer looked over the tall blonde and replied, imperiously, "Doctor Kaminski, actually."

"Uh... We better get going," Mark piped in nervously.

"Nice meeting you, Ms. uh, Mays." Jennifer smirked, before turning back and walking to her door, feeling a bit smug.

On Sunday, Jennifer fretted over what to wear before admonishing herself. "It's a damn lunch!" She settled on a knit top with a V-neck.

She knocked on his door at five minutes to twelve. "Hope I'm not early."

"Of course not, Jen, come in."

Inside, Jennifer found the place a bit spartan, except for the photographs on the wall. It was not unexpected for a bachelor in a new home. Suddenly, she saw the one photo and walked to it. "An Ansel Adams?"

"Yes, not one of his better-known ones. I always admired his work and wanted at least one if I had the chance."

She looked over the others, all landscapes and nature photos. She paused at one, dawn over a pond with ominous clouds in the background. "Lovely! Who took it?"

"Me, actually. A passion. That one was lucky. Got there just as the light was perfect."

"Chance favors the prepared mind." She smiled.

"Pasteur? I believe. Come, I've set up on the patio, seeing it's a lovely day."

She found an assortment of cold cuts, cheese, and fruit, laid out rather tastefully.

As she sat, Mark asked, "Wine? Or beer perhaps."

"It's a bit early... But some white, perhaps."

"A Riesling? I'll be right back."

With glasses poured and the bottle nearby, they started chatting. He learned about the pediatrics ward, and she learned he was a mechanical engineer, working at a firm that designed industrial equipment. The conversation continued on to their shared love of the photographic arts, then to history. She found he was reading about the spy, codename Garbo, a subject she was versed in. Meanwhile, she was reading about the code breakers of World War II, a subject he'd devoured a while back. They tested each other's knowledge. The subjects and banter moved on to music and a shared love of the symphony.

But Jennifer could see, over the course of the afternoon, his guarded looks at her V-neck and regretted the choice.

It was not until the sun was getting low and the discovery that they had finished the wine between them that Jennifer suggested she'd taken too much of his time.

"Not at all," he rejoined. "And I recall you offered lunch next time."

Between the wine and exhilarating conversation that she couldn't remember having in a long time, Jennifer walked to her home next door, although, in the moment, it felt more like floating.

The next day, as Jennifer drove to work, she reflected. She craved stimulating conversation. And with Mark, she couldn't remember an afternoon more pleasantly spent. They could only be friends, she knew. And satisfied herself in that.

*****

Friday arrived, and with it, Mark's tryst with Debbie. Her mind accepted he had a love life, yet there was always the nagging jealousy. His car was gone all weekend and she suspected he spent the weekend with her, in never-ending lovemaking, no doubt.

Sunday, she noticed his car wasn't there, but readied for their luncheon anyway, wondering if he'd forgotten. But the doorbell did ring, and with some relief, Jennifer, dressed a little more conservatively this time, welcomed him in and showed him to her patio.

"Nice!" he complimented her. "Maybe you can give me hints on gardening," Mark added, looking over her flowers.

Jennifer poured them both a glass of Chablis and started catching up on their week.

"And, uh, Debbie, was it? Quite something, I must say," Jennifer started.

"Yes. But high maintenance."

Jennifer looked at him, hoping for more, but she could see he wasn't going to expand on that comment.

He changed the subject, "And you? Seeing anyone?"

"Oh, well..." she stammered, not knowing how to admit her love life sucked.

"Sorry, Jen. None of my business."

Jennifer imagined him wondering what her orientation was and did her best to explain. "No one at the moment. I dated a few guys in the past. But these days, well, career and all, Um..."

She trailed off imagining she sounded like an idiot.

"I think, you just haven't found someone who could appreciate you," he told her, and immediately regretted such a trite comment.

Quickly changing the subject, he complimented her garden. The subject moved to her walks, and he learned she was trying to get back into jogging. Mark suggested she jog with him, but she declined.

"No way I could keep up with you."

"How about twice a week. Won't do me any harm to slow down occasionally. Let's say Mondays and Thursdays. On maybe Sunday afternoons, starting today?"

A smile crept over her face. "I mean, well sure. But I think you'll find my pace too slow."

"Five o'clock it is. How far do you think?"

"Um, three miles?" she responded hesitantly, worried that that was pushing it.

Jennifer corked the wine, in the face of the upcoming workout. They talked some more, learning about each other's families. Jennifer was the oldest of three daughters. The middle was married, while the youngest was engaged. And her father was nearing retirement.

Mark talked of his older sister, with two kids. And his father, a recently retired professor of obstetrics, who had hoped his son would go into medicine as well.

As things wrapped up, she asked, "Fiction. What do you read?"

"Never was much of a reader of fiction. Just one I truly like."

Jennifer looked at him awaiting the answer.

"Jane Austen. Yeah, I admit it. Guys aren't supposed to go in for that type of thing. But I like her stories."

She looked him in the eye for a moment. "You're a romantic." It was the first time she'd seen him blush.

"I'll plead the fifth," he retorted.

She gave him a wry smile, then suggested they meet outside at five.

A little before five, Jennifer was looking at herself in the mirror. The running shorts, sports bra, and baggy T-shirt seemed to make her feel even fatter than she was. But she reminded herself this was about exercise and not looks.

Mark was already waiting for her outside and the two headed off for their run and about a half hour later, they returned.

"You underestimate yourself. That wasn't a bad pace," Mark told her, as they pulled up.

"Yeah, I guess a partner helped or maybe it was your inspiration."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," he teased.

But Jennifer didn't know how to reply to such a flirtatious quip. Instead, she simply thanked him and headed to her door.

"Wednesday?" he suggested.

"Yes! Six?" she beamed back.

She looked at his reassuring smile as he turned away. Inside, she tried to ground herself. "Damn girl! You are just friends. Remember that!"

Wednesday, they did three miles again after Mark suggested she shouldn't push it. And they agreed Mark would host the next of what was becoming their regular Sunday lunch. Jennifer knew the rest of his week belonged to Debbie. She was jealous of her and at the same time acknowledged the pettiness of it. She decided to make Sunday a little different this time.

Friday, Jennifer noticed a second car in Mark's driveway and deduced it was Debbie's. It was there all-day Saturday as well until late when his car was gone. She went to bed wondering if the car would still be there in the morning, and if the plants she bought for his patio would last a week.

But that morning, the car was gone, and Jennifer smirked, knowing their tête-à-tête was on.

At noon sharp, Mark answered the knock at his door and found Jennifer, hands full of plants and more at her feet.

"Said you wanted a garden. So, I'm giving you one after lunch. Think of it as a late welcoming gift. Oh, there's a bag of soil on my doorstep. Bring it over. I think a big, strong guy like you can handle it."

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled in mock deference.

As she watched him walk away, she prided herself at finally being able to flirt with him. Lunch was a little shorter this time before they moved on to creating a garden. Mark happily deferred to her judgment, enjoying what seemed to be a delightful task for her.

Jennifer asked about Debbie, but received an ambivalent reply.

It was almost five when they had finished.

"I better get ready for our run," she told him, as they admired their joint project.

"Jen," he said, taking her hand. "You have a generous heart."

"I... I... better get ready," she responded, before turning back into the house.

The time needed to change helped her regain her equipoise. She realized, in that moment, how vulnerable her heart was to him. That the most innocent words could affect her. She would forearm herself as best she could from here on out.

They added a half mile this time. And as they pulled up in front of their homes, Jennifer was feeling good about herself. They parted and made plans to run on Wednesday.

A routine set in as weeks passed. Jennifer looked forward to their jogging and Sunday lunches as the friendship bloomed. Perhaps it was a substitute for love, Jennifer reflected. And she faced the harsh reality that when the friendship ended, no other man could measure up. Plus, she realized she'd hardly been in contact with her other friends these last weeks.

One Friday, she heard his car drive in. It seemed early for him and peeked out the window to see him alone. She wondered, maybe Debbie was away. But where was he returning from? Perhaps she'll find out over lunch.

Sunday, in the middle of lunch, she asked about Debbie.

"Finished!" he exclaimed.

Jennifer was secretly thrilled.

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't be!" he replied, pouring himself some more wine before going silent.

"Well, if you don't want to talk about it..." she said, trailing off.

Mark looked at her for a minute. "I was half a mind not to tell you this. But..."

He looked at the ground for a minute, groping for words. "It involved you!" he continued, with a chuckle.

The quizzical look on her face told him he had to finish what he started. "I told her you and I were jogging partners. I thought it was harmless, but she took it otherwise and vindictives started flying."

"What did she say?" Jennifer asked, earnestly.

"I won't repeat what she said about you. But what mattered is it opened my eyes. Men can be blinded by a hot body and let's call it superficial charm. "

Jennifer didn't know quite what to think. He dumped his girlfriend in defense of her. She grounded herself, remembering it was about Jennifer showing her true self and not about her own graces.

"Plus, I think my income didn't satisfy her. Some executive maybe. She'd be happy being a mistress. Anyway, why do we always talk about my love life." Mark laughed, changing the subject. "Why do you never want to talk about yourself?"

She went silent. But she had a sense of trust with him. "What's to say? I'm self-aware enough to know I'm not a great find. I'm certainly not photogenic. And let's say curvier than what most men like. And these... tits!" she continued, looking at her cleavage, "Attracts men for the wrong reasons. I don't want to be someone's fuck buddy. Not anymore. There! Understand?"

They were silent for a while, as Jennifer shocked herself by being so frank.

"I won't say the usual thing about finding someone. But I do think you're too hard on yourself," he responded, with a gentle smile.

She waited, hoped, he would say something more; express some deeper feelings. But, she realized, it was empathy for a friend and nothing more. And the only person she hoped to find was one Mark Cunningham.

"Well," she said, with a wistful tone, "Our run is still on? I have some things to do. Meet you outside at five."

In her home, Jennifer took the time to decompress. She laughed at herself. At one moment, Mark was available. The next, he was still nothing but a friend. He was at least five years younger than her, she reminded herself. In any case, she knew it would just be an affair. And a guy like that would soon move on to other pastures. And she didn't think she could deal with the heartbreak.

They took their usual run, agreeing to run again Wednesday.

Jennifer looked forward to these runs and was waiting outside for him, flashing him a smile when he arrived.

"Jen, I remembered, I have two tickets to the symphony Friday. Care to join me?"

"Scraping the bottom of the barrel, aye? Can't find anyone better?" she teased.

"Jen... Don't be like that. No, I can't think of anyone I'd like more to join me."

She realized the joke was inappropriate and turned serious. "Yes, I'd love to join you, but only if I can buy dinner."

"Fair enough."

On Friday, Jennifer finished up the day's reports eager to meet Mark at the restaurant. She put on the heels she rarely wore and headed out.

"My, my, Jen. Hot date?" she heard the receptionist, Suzy, ask.

"Dinner and music with a friend."

"Friend, huh. Wondered why you came in today dressed like that? Male or female?"

"Male, if you must know."

"Yes, yes. Just a 'friend.'" Suzy smirked. "Showing off your assets for a friend? He'll be drooling over that cleavage."

She found Mark waiting for her at the bar. "Evening," she said.

He stood and looked her over and resisted giving her a wolf whistle. "Don't you look nice," was the best he could say, as he explored her with his eyes.

"And you clean up well. First time I've seen you in a tie," she teased.

Over dinner, they talked about that night's program, comparing recordings of the works they'd heard. Mark did his best to not look at her inviting cleavage and Jennifer pretended not to notice.

It was a short walk from the restaurant to the concert hall. Mark offered his arm, which Jennifer readily accepted. Through the first half of the concert, she kept eyeing his hand resting on the armrest. It was so tempting. And during the second half, she placed hers on it.

It was a silly little move that gave her outsized pleasure.

*****

On Sunday, their lunch routine continued at Mark's place. They shared notes on the concert before moving on to other topics.

Jennifer noticed a change in him. They usually sat on opposite sides of the table. Today, he sat next to her. And he seemed pensive.