Next-Door Squirrels

The house next door was built on the original vacant lot many years ago. When I moved in with my husband, Dave brought me some macadamia nuts from his tree. He used to sit on his back deck with a BB gun and plink the squirrels who were going after the nuts. He removed one of the grape stakes from our fence so he could pass candy to the kids when they were playing in our yard. His wife Betty was confined to a wheelchair, but shared her California history books with us when the kids were in 4th grade and had to do a mission project. After Dave passed away, Betty would call us if she slid out of her wheelchair and needed help getting back in. One time, my husband called me to come over and help. When I arrived, it was clear that her leg was broken. She was furious at herself for trying to lean over to retrieve a fallen piece of Halloween candy. We stayed with her until the paramedics arrived and transported her to the hospital. They set her leg and she went to a convalescent place to heal and start rehab. But the bone was never able to knit back together. I remember both funerals were in the chapel at the local cemetery. As an Episcopalian, I like the words and ritual found in the BCP. These were both fire and brimstone Baptist services that set my teeth on edge. Dave and Betty’s son David and his wife Flo moved into the house. They did a much needed remodel making a functional kitchen and a guest bathroom. Their two oldest offspring have homes and families, but their youngest lived with them as she finished her teaching credential and started on a career. Right after construction was completed, David died suddenly leaving Flo a widow. She was not a fan of Kristy’s fiancé and they became estranged. I attended the funeral and the wedding which was awkward. Her mom did sneak in and watch from the back pew. Kristy is still teaching school and her mother welcomed her back when the baby was born. She took care of the adorable granddaughter until Lynn started school. When they visit, we invite Lynn over to see our monarch caterpillars and to pet Oliver. She loves our orange cat. I’ve gotten to know Kristy a bit, but I steer clear of her older brother. He often stops by to check on Flo and his truck is covered with NRA stickers. He’s certainly not plinking any squirrels as they have returned with a vengeance.

— KathyV