accident, so I’ve lost my memory. I know that sounds odd, but it’s true. So hello, again! Even though we’ve met a million times before. Should we hug instead? Maybe we hug?”
The lady looked down at my hand coldly. “We don’t hug. And we’ve never really met.”
“What do you mean? I’ve been your neighbor for six years. How have we never met when we live next door to each other? And for so long?”
She gave me a small smile. But it wasn’t a warm smile, it was a sarcastic one. “You keep to yourself a lot. You could say.”
I shook my head at this information. It seemed completely at odds with who I was. I was a good friend, after all. It was on the list. “What do you mean, I keep to myself?”
“Well, for the past six years, I’ve barely seen you. You’ve barely said a word to me. I did try. In the beginning, when you moved in. I came to visit, I brought cookies and a casserole, but you told me you didn’t eat sugar and beef.”
“What! Of course I eat sugar. I love sugar. And beef. I had the best beef taco the other day, didn’t I?” I looked at Noah for confirmation, but he didn’t give me what I was looking for, other than a strange look. “Right, Noah?” I asked again. “Beef! Sugar!” And then I turned to my neighbor again. “I eat them. I do.”
“That’s not what you told me.” Her lips were pursed together tightly and her tone was acerbic. “You seemed to have no interest in eating my gifts or in getting to know me. In fact, you go out of your way to avoid me in the corridor every time you see me. And it’s a narrow corridor. I’ve gotten very used to you turning your back on me when you see me and walking in the opposite direction.”
“That’s . . . impossible! I’m sure you must have just misinterpreted it?” I sounded desperate now.
“No misinterpretation, dear. In fact, when you told me never to bring you baked goods and casseroles anymore, I think I got the message pretty loud and clear.” She sounded hurt. “And when I invited you to the Christmas party that we were all having here in the garden, you said you would rather be alone and Christmas held no meaning for you and I should not invite you to things like that ever again.”
“What?” I stood there open-mouthed. This information was in no way at all, even vaguely, compatible with the person I thought I was, or the list I had, or the things that Andi had said to me. And then she turned and slipped her keys into her door and opened it. A cat came out of the door to greet her. It twisted around her ankles and then stopped when it saw me. It gave me a loud hiss and then ran back inside, as my neighbor walked in and closed the door behind her. I blinked a few times as I tried to take this in, but I couldn’t. It was just too bizarre. I turned to face Noah. The look on his face had changed. He looked . . . concerned?
He moved closer to me and laid that hand on my shoulder again. That calming hand. That hand that had held mine in the ambulance, that hand that I can’t explain why, but it gave me so much comfort. The hand that felt vaguely familiar in the strangest way that I wasn’t able to put my finger on at all. But it felt none of those things now.
“What’s going on?” I asked, salty tears itching in the corners of my eyes. “People are not greeting me warmly. People haven’t noticed I’ve been gone. People don’t seem to like me.”
“Maybe . . .” he said really slowly, dragging out the word in a way that made me know he was about to say something serious that might offend me. “Maybe you’re really busy. A high-powered creative at an ad agency. You don’t have time for chatting.”
“Maybe?” I was struggling to wrap my head around this. “No. This is all a misunderstanding. Maybe the doorman is new and doesn’t really know me. Maybe my neighbor misinterpreted what I said. I mean, why wouldn’t I want to go to a Christmas party? Everyone likes Christmas, right?”