The moving truck came in the middle of the night and was gone before the first crest of the sun rose over the distant mountains. A small girl by the name of Vanessa Peters watched the moving crew move impossibly fast as they unloaded large antique furniture into the house in the middle of the lane. She told her mother of the truck, the men who moved so fast they were a blur. Her mother placated her with many uh-huhs and wows as the Vanessa babbled on over her pancakes and orange juice. Her fathers eyes twinkled as he listened, hiding his face behind the newspaper to keep from showing his daughter the laughter.
Mrs. Peters bent down to kiss Mr. Peters, and whispered against his cheek, “Such an imagination.”
“Such a fun age,” Mr. Peters responded.
It wasn’t until Mr. Peters left for work that he realized that Vanessa’s ramblings about her midnight witnessing weren’t necessarily the remnants of a fantastical dream. For, there, in the driveway of 418 Geranium Way, was a sports convertible, gleaming black in the morning sun. He called his wife to tell her that someone, indeed, had moved into the house in the middle of the lane in the middle of the night.
Mrs. Peters called every Mrs. in the neighborhood and by ten in the morning, they all stood on the sidewalk, across from 418 Geranium Way, discussing the new neighbors that no one had yet seen. At eleven, a woman exited the front door and marched across the street, a wide smile stretched across her pale face. She wore skirt suit in a dark red that looked beautiful against her ghostly skin and dark brown curls. The lipstick shade matched perfectly, the eye makeup was understated. She accessorized with plain gold jewelry at her wrist and ears, and a strand of white pearls that held a heavy red jewel.
Mrs. Peters stepped forward and offered her hand to the newcomer, who shook it readily. “Hi, I’m Lillian, I live in 421, just there kitty corner to you,” Mrs. Peters said.
“Elizabeth Sutton. It’s nice to meet you. You all bring out quite the welcome wagon,” Elizabeth gestured at the group of women. Her face was calm and pleasant, the smile still plastered in place, but there was something sarcastic in her tone. As if she said “I see you being nosy, now knock it off.” A flutter of unease drifted through the group, though they laughed easily and smiled at the newcomer.
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