Welcome To The Neighborhood

WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD

           Molly Drake stepped out in the middle of the street to take a picture of her new house to email her family and friends back home. She doesn’t live far, but she is so excited to have a house of her own, she couldn’t wait to send them pictures.

 Molly moved into her new house yesterday and is excited to get things unpacked and in place so she can venture out and meet her new neighbors. This is the first time Molly is out on her own and feels blessed to have a fantastic job as a pharmacist in one of the biggest drug stores in the tri-state area. She worked hard to get this far and has mentally made plans for her future.

           After a long day, Molly decided to relax early, so she made herself a delicious chicken Caesar salad and poured herself a glass of her favorite white wine. She sat down and took one bite of salad, and the doorbell rang.

           She put her fork on the plate and headed toward the door as she finished chewing her salad, she looked through the peep hole, staring back at her was a wine bottle and holding it was a woman with a fancy short haircut, the figure of a model, and a fresh acrylic manicure.

Then she opened the front door.

           “Hi! I’m Celeste Beaumont…I live directly across the street from you in the white Victorian. I brought you wine to welcome you to the neighborhood. I thought we can get to know each other.”

           “Oh, how nice of you. Thank you very much. I’m Molly Drake,” she said as she took the wine from Celeste. “Please come in.”

           “Thank you very much,” she said as Molly shut the door. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting your dinner?”

           “It’s only a chicken Caesar salad, in fact I made a large bowl, would you like some?”

           “Yes, that sounds great. Have you met any of our other neighbors yet?” Celeste said as she put the wine bottle on the dining room table.

           “No. I have not had a chance yet. You’re the first one.”

           “Good. I like being the first. I have a feeling we can become close friends,” Celeste said with a crooked smile.

           Molly got another plate and utensils and a wine glass and opened the bottle Celeste brought. They went on to have a wonderful conversation while they finished dinner. Celeste washed the dishes while Molly dried and put them away. They refilled their wines glasses and sat in the living room on Molly’s new couch to continue their conversation.

           Molly was having a fun time. She met someone she felt she could be longtime friends with. But Molly’s eyes were weighing heavy suddenly…she began yawning.

           “Molly are you alright?”

“I’m sorry Celeste, I had a long day unpacking and I guess I had too much wine. The combination is weighing on me. I think we should call it a night,” she said as she continued to yawn but never made it off the couch…she was out cold.

Molly awakens to darkness. She glances out the window to see the moonlight shining through the windows and the sound of crickets chirping. A dimly lit lamp is glowing in the living room and a soft shining nightlight over the sink in the kitchen. Confused…she looked at the clock near the TV, 9:34 p.m. How could she have slept this long?

Molly jolted upright, her pupils widened, and her jaw fell open…shock whittled through her body.

“Oh, you’re awake. I made us dinner. You must be famished by now.”

“Celeste?”

“Oh, no, dear. My name is Molly.”

“I’m Molly. Why are you dressed in my clothes? And your hair…”

“I don’t understand, dear. These are my clothes, and this is my natural hair.”

Molly looks up at Celeste and is speechless. She stands up and looks her directly in the eye, “Celeste, what do you think you are doing?”

“My name is not Celeste, dear. My name is Molly. You are Celeste. You live across the street, and you came over with a bottle of wine to welcome me to the neighborhood. We had a genuinely nice lunch and you fell asleep on my couch from all that wine,” she says. “Oh, my. That wine sure did mess with your head.”

Molly’s forehead wrinkles…she opened her mouth to talk but no words came out. Celeste looked just like her. She is wearing her clothes, walking the same way as Molly, talking the same, and she even has her hair the same way as Molly has hers.

“Would you like some chicken Caesar salad and some wine? I made too much. We can get to know each other better,” she says as she takes Molly’s arm to lead her to the dining room table, but Molly pulls angrily away. Celeste grabs her arm again.

“I said to sit, and I will get you salad,” Celeste says authoritatively.

“Celeste, you’re crazy. What do you think you will get out of this?” Molly’s lips pursed in frustration. She closed her eyes and sighed wondering if this is real.

Celeste comes back with two salad plates and utensils which she sets on the table and returns to the kitchen to bring a bottle of wine and two wine glasses and sets them beside the salad plates. Before she sits, she pours the wine.

“So Celeste, tell me about yourself,” she says.

“Stop calling me Celeste! You are Celeste. I am Molly!”

“Here, dear. Drink your wine, you will feel better,” she says.

Molly gulps the glass of wine, hoping that if she passed out again, she would wake up and everything will be back to normal. This is the weirdest thing she has ever been into. She slides her empty glass towards Celeste for her to refill it with more wine.

“Whoa. Take it easy dear, you’ll pass out again. You need to eat,” Celeste said.

Molly takes the glass and gulps that down as well as the next one. Beginning to get sleepy, she goes to the couch, lays down, and she fell asleep…again.

Molly woke up and it was still pitch dark outside, the only lamp on was the one in the living room, and the clock said 9:34pm. She hops off the couch and looks around to notice Celeste in Molly’s same clothes, in the kitchen making the same chicken Caesar salad and the same bottle of wine on the counter near her.

“Oh, you’re awake. I made us dinner. You must be famished by now.”

“Celeste! Please stop this right now. Stop this ridiculous charade you put me in,” says Molly.

“Oh, no, dear. My name is Molly.”

“No! No, it’s not! You are Celeste!”

“My name is not Celeste, dear. My name is Molly. You are Celeste. You live across the street, and you came over with a bottle of wine to welcome me to the neighborhood. We had a genuinely nice lunch and you fell asleep on my couch from all that wine,” she says. “Oh, my. That wine sure did mess with your head.”

“This is ridiculous,” said Molly.

“Have some salad dear, I made too much.”

Molly knew she had to stop this strange life recycle she is in, but she doesn’t know how. She decided to sit and eat the salad and drink the wine while she thinks about what to do.

“So Celeste, tell me about yourself,” she says. “Here, dear. Drink your wine, you will feel better,” she says.

Molly drinks repeatedly, hoping that she will fall asleep and wake up and things will be normal again. She didn’t know what else to do. Before long, Molly zonked out on the couch…again.

The phone rings and startles Molly, she jumps into a sitting position to answer it. She looks around her bedroom quizzically as she talks.

“Yea, hi mom. Yea, I’m fine. Everything is just great. I love my new house. I love you too,” she says as she hangs up the phone.

Molly climbed out of bed and immediately went to the window, opened the curtains, and looked outside in relief. The sun was shining brightly on a beautiful day. She exited her bedroom cautiously and slowly stepped downstairs while looking all over for her neighbor Celeste, but she wasn’t there.

Molly entered the kitchen, and it was clean…left the same as when she left it the night before, or what she thinks was the night before. She opens the refrigerator and notices the extra salad she made is in a bowl on the shelf and what’s left in the bottle of wine she opened is on the bottom shelf. The dining room table was clean, and the couch was neat showing no signs that Molly slept on it. She exhaled a huge sigh of relief, that it all had to be a weird dream.

The doorbell rings.

Molly froze.

The doorbell rings again.

Molly looks through the peephole, gasps, and jumps back. She opens the door about six inches.

“Hi! I’m Celeste Beaumont…I live directly across the street from you in the white Victorian. I brought you wine to welcome you to the neighborhood. I thought we can get to know each other.”

                                               THE END