Alan leaned across the sink and looked out the kitchen window. "Have you met him yet?" Their new neighbor was currently standing out on his driveway, informing the movers as to where to put his furniture after it was unloaded from the truck. He looked like he was probably around thirty to thirty-five years old. He didn't see anyone with him. No wife, no kids. He was probably single. Which made him one of the few in the neighborhood who was.
"No," answered Brenda, his wife. "But I was gonna bring him a pie, to welcome him to the neighborhood."
Alan turned from the window. "You baked him a pie?"
"No, I bought a pie and just warmed it up. I'm sure he'll like it. George liked it when I did the same last year."
Alan turned back towards the window and watched as the moving truck pulled away from the curb. Apparently, all of the man's furniture had been unloaded. He looked at his watch. "Time to go." He backed away from the sink and gave his wife a quick kiss on her cheek. "I'll call you after the meeting is over." He then headed to the foyer and picked up his briefcase. "Bye, honey."
"Bye."
And with that, Alan was gone out the door.
Brenda turned her attention back to the pie she just warmed up.
Oliver paced around his new house, getting a feel for it. It was his first. Before this, he was living in a ratty old apartment. But his change in location had nothing to do with a new job or unexpected inheritance. Instead, it was because of his power ... or whatever it was. He just started noticing a few months ago that he could influence the minds of women. Just a tweak here, a tweak there. They didn't even know it was happening. It was like hypnotic suggestion. And then about a week ago, just before he decided to move here, he realized that it was getting easier and easier to do it and that he could even feel the women's thoughts and memories if he concentrated hard enough, if that made any sense. Anyway, he used his power to get a great deal on this house. All he had to do was tweak the real estate agent a little, to make her more receptive to him. And voila! A new house that he could afford.
There was one drawback to his power, however. For some reason, he couldn't influence the minds of men. Or maybe he couldn't yet? All of this was new to him and he had no idea why it was even happening, so he wasn't really sure how it all worked. But for now, he felt lucky that he had any power at all.
The doorbell rang, breaking Oliver out of his thoughts. He walked to the door and opened it.
"Hello. Welcome to the neighborhood," a middle-aged woman (possibly forty) said. In her hands was a pie. She held it out to him.
"Thanks," Oliver said, taking the pie and setting it on a table just inside his house. He turned back to the woman. "Uh ... who are you again?"
"Oh, sorry. My name is Brenda. Brenda McMichael," she said, holding out her hand.
"Oliver Prescott," he said, shaking her hand.
She smiled. "Glad to meet you."
"You know, if you really want to welcome me to the neighborhood, you can do something better than bring me a pie."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, you could kiss me."
She shrugged. "Okay." And with that, she moved in close and locked lips with him, giving him a passionate kiss. When she was done, she took a step back. "How was that?" she asked.
"It was great. Brenda, are you married?" he asked.
"Yeah. His name is Alan. I'm sure you'll eventually get to meet him."
"I'm sure. Any children?"
"Two."
"Boys, girls?"
"Both girls. One is sixteen and the other is eighteen."
"Splendid," he said, smiling. "Why don't you bring your daughters over to meet me?"
"Sure," she said.
"Well, it was really nice to meet you, Brenda."
"You too, Oliver."
He watched as his neighbor turned around and walked down the steps to the road, then walked across the street to her house. It was the first one to the left. The one with light blue siding. Then he closed the door.
When Brenda returned home, she felt a little odd. At the time, it felt totally reasonable and natural to kiss Oliver. She wanted to make a good first impression. But she was married. Wasn't kissing another man, especially someone she barely knew, considered "cheating"? She thought about it, but the more she did, the more it felt like she was being silly. Kissing someone was hardly a capital offense. And she didn't intend to do it again. Yeah, it wasn't as big a deal as she was letting on. The feeling of oddness evaporated from her mind and she began to think about when she could bring her daughters over to meet Oliver. She had a feeling that they'd like him just as much as she did. It never occurred to her that Oliver only asked for her to bring her daughters, and not her husband. It just didn't seem to matter, for some reason.
