For Imjustagirlnextdoor

Wisteria

It was on a Sunday morning when I saw her – or saw her again. I had this gut feeling that it wasn’t the first time for me, but that it was the first time for her. I was a twenty year old man, a self-proclaimed bachelor, yet I found myself going to the store and buying flowers, then somehow got to her front door and rang her doorbell, then finally facing her when she opened it. I hid myself behind the large bouquet and then awkwardly handed it to her.

“Hello…”

“Uh…hello…I…umm…just wanted to welcome you to the neighbourhood.”

“Thank you…would you like to come in?”

“Uhh…yeah sure…”

She led me into her home, and I couldn’t help but admire the interior decoration. It was quite feminine, but had this edge to it. Her walls were either painted blue or white, my favourite colors, because they reminded me of the water. Her tables were either made of a dark wood or glass, like the coffee table that she sat me in front of in her lounge room. There seemed to be a lack of family photos displayed on the wall, but she had massive paintings of landscapes, especially to do with water. She undid the bouquet and put the flowers into a vase and sat it down on the empt coffee table.

“They’re really nice…quite different to what I thought people would give…”

“Why? Were you expecting something else?”

“Not really…I mean…these seem quite unique for it to be picked out by a guy like you…”

“Ahhh…you thought that I was hitting on you?”

“I saw you looking at me from your house across the street…”

“Then if you know that I live over there…you must’ve been watching me too…”

“I guess so…the flowers?”

“I had the lady tell me which one I should give to someone who just moved in. They recommended that one. Wisteria. Apparently it means ‘welcome’.”

“Wisteria. As in Wisteria Lane? Sorry. Desperate Housewives reference. Why were you watching me?”

“No particular reason…is it a crime to look at someone who is as pretty as you?”

“So you are hitting on me…”

“Well, now I am…”

“Why do you think I’m pretty?”

“Not so much pretty…more like there is something about you that I feel like…”

“Feel like?”

“I don’t know. I still haven’t figured it out.”

“Be sure to tell me when you do.”

We sat on the couch in silence and I continued to admire the paintings on her walls. There was one in particular that also felt familiar to me. It was of a little river in the country side that reminded me where I had used to go as a small kid when my dad used to take me on camping trips. I hadn’t been there in ages, but I had the best memories of that place.

“You like the painting?”

“Yeah…I do…it brings back memories…”

“Of what?”

“Of being a kid. I went to a place like that. I can’t really remember it but I was camping with my father, and we went fishing…”

“Yeah…I went to that place as a kid…”

She seemed kind of wistful when she talked about it. It was like something happened there that she couldn’t forget. I couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad memory, but after thinking about it, that place was really important to her. The design of the house was dedicated to a water theme. Water is supposed to be cold, and sometimes scary, but it felt warm, like you were being surrounded by it, and then you could drift off…

“Are you hungry?”

“I kinda am…”

“What do you want?”

“I’ll take whatever you have.”

She got out some dumplings and then steamed them and cooked some rice. She plated them up and I noticed that everything on her plate was separate. She poured some ketchup on her plate and then set her utensils down. I began to dig in to my food and when I looked up, she was eating out of a tub of ice cream.

“What are you doing?”

“Eating ice cream.”

“I know that. But why? Isn’t dessert last?”

“For some people it is. But for me, I always have the sweets first and the main meal last. Want some?”

“No, thanks. I’ll just have the dumplings.”

“Your loss.”

When she had had enough, she put it back into her freezer and then started on her dumplings. She also had a particular way of eating this too. She would cut up the dumpling, then dip it into the ketchup and then eat it with a spoonful of rice. Everything seemed so mechanical and precise, especially the proportions that she put into . I was astounded.

“What?”

“You eat it so…proportionately…”

“I like things to be in order.”

I chuckled lightly and she turned her head towards me.

“Find it funny?”

“No, it’s just, you remind me of someone.”

“You keep saying that…”

“You just do. I feel like I’ve met you before.”

We ate the rest of the meal in silence, and then we put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and then headed back into the living room. I sat down first, but when I looked up at her she was standing in front of the painting. A light bulb went off in my head and I just stared at her with my mouth open.

“You’re staring again…”

I got up from my seat and started to walk towards her.

“I know you…”

“We met today…”

I didn’t realise it, but I was backing her up against the wall. I saw that she was slight scared of the way I was acting but I recognised her.

“Bomi-yah…”

Her eyes went wide with fear and before I knew it, she knocked me over the head. That girl must have taken some self-defence lessons because it hurt, and I collapsed onto the floor. When I finally came to, I was lying down on the couch and she was my face.

“I’m sorry. You knew my name…and I just thought that you were a stalker who was going to do something to me…”

“Kill you?”

“Somewthing like that…”

“You seem to be okay now.”

“I took you wallet and checked your ID. Your name is Luhan. I understand why you feel like you know me.”

I flipped her over so that I pinned her beneath me. Then I leant in and kissed her and she kissed back.

“Was it because of that?”

“Not that…but the last time we met, you saved my life by rescuing me from that river and giving me CPR.”

“You recognised me?”

“I recognised your name because I’ve been looking for you. We met when we were kids and I didn’t get to thank you because you left while I was in hospital. There was an article about you in the newspaper and I saved it.”

She showed it to me, and there it was.  They didn’t get a picture of me, but my name was there.

“I found you…”

“You found me…”

I kissed her again.

“Welcome to the neighbourhood…”

“I think I’m gonna like it here…”