“Wash your hands!” Maya called out after Eylo as he ran out of the exam room. He was done drawing on Sameera’s bandaged leg and on his way to see his grandpa. Eylo stopped to check his hands, pushing back the hair that always fell on his face with his elbow. There was just a little bit of blue ink between his left middle and index fingers: not too bad… he wiped his hand on the wall, just a tad, and was good to go. He started walking down the stairs but stopped mid-way to listen to the drama unfolding by the entrance between Belling’s 64-year-old operations director, Gemma, and their wicked neighbors, the twins.
“They smell.”
“You smell.”
“How dare—”
“I mean we all smell, every. one. of us. So why can you not open your hearts to their unique smells?”
“Ew,” the twins said in sync.
Gemma sighed but she knew her face bore only a hint of emotion. She would have made a great poker player if not for the twitch in her left eye. She sized up Val and Hal; the twins lived next door to Belling in a wonky but enormous house on shared land.
Throughout her time as the founder of a small business, growing that business into a national chain and becoming one of the first women to oversee a clothing company with over ten thousand employees, Gemma had met and dealt with many characters. Somehow though, none had quite accomplished stepping on her nerves as much as the twins did on an almost daily basis. And that included the CEO who had suggested Gemma took an early “retirement” 5 years ago.
Almost every other day, the twins came to Belling to complain about one thing or another, wearing matching outfits in inverted colors. Their long pale arms stuck out of their trendy 3/4 sleeved tops that were embroidered with the first letter of their names in the front. And their complaints were always as absurd as their attitude toward rescue animals.
“Every day it’s something else,” Gemma said. “Yesterday, the cats were watching you—”
“They did not take those big, sharp eyes off of us. I don’t like being watched.” Val’s sleepy face was not showing much emotion but her voice that went up and down with every vowel conveyed enough of it.
“You can close your curtains.”
“You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do with my curtains,” Val shrieked as Gemma started rubbing her temples.
“And last week the dogs were mocking you?” Gemma asked in disbelief.
“They kept sticking their tongues out at us,” Hal said resolutely. Unlike his sister, Hal made a lot of expressions and hand gestures, but his voice was as monotone as voices were concerned.
“Right. Dogs with tongues out, unheard of.” Gemma was growing tired of this conversation.
“We’ve complained to the association, we’ll get you and your unwanted animals kicked out of our community any day now,” Hal said in an emotionless voice. Gemma was, for once, concerned about what he was saying. The association could pose Belling a problem.
“Yes, what do you have to say about that, ‘Ms. Operations of Undesirables’?” Val’s eyes were scanning Gemma, bracing for a response. But Gemma’s exhaustion after a long day of trying to plan resource allocation for Belling was catching up to her. “That’s ‘Director’ to you,” she said while looking around for a way out of the conversation.
“Shut the front door!” Harriet screeched from her cage behind Gemma.
“What a wonderful idea Harriet!” Gemma’s face brightened up before slamming the door to Hal and Val’s faces.
Eylo cackled from up the stairs. So did Caleb, one of Belling’s volunteer veterinary technicians who was sitting on the edge of the welcome desk behind Gemma, his deep green shorts matching the ornate area rug the elderly Abbotts had brought over from their previous home.
“Wow, is this what you mean by ‘always be neighborly, we need our community’s support’ during volunteer trainings?” He mocked with a friendly smile.
“Shouldn't you be worrying about your ex coming into town tonight to pick up the" Gemma gestured "designer dog bed" with air quotes "she left behind?”
Caleb flinched.
“Maybe there is another orientation I can sign up for? Because I don’t believe I’ve been trained on the delicate ways of your handling our neighbors,” Caleb forced a smile as Gemma avoided his eyes, busying herself with fishing a chocolate flower out of her pocket and hiding her embarrassment. She had overstepped with that joke.
“For the record, I'm not dealing with any neighbors because these two are not neighbors, they are a pain in my—
—Hey-ho, Eylo, I didn’t see you there!” Gemma jumped.
Eylo ran into the kitchen as Gemma waved at him and turned on her heels to head out.
“I’ll get the door for you so you can keep focusing on eating your secret stash of pocket chocolates,” Caleb said holding the door open to Gemma. He was in his late-30s and had a youthful smile that was at odds with his interests and lifestyle which made his friends call him,
“Thanks ‘old man’,” Gemma said with a full mouth of chocolate.
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