Neighborhood Watch (4 page)

“No,” Michele replied. “You won’t.” She led them out. When they reached the breakfast table, they discovered Mrs. Feinberg was gone. Teddy hesitated.

“Shouldn’t we talk to her and let her know of our intention to buy her home?” he asked.

“Mrs. Feinberg hasn’t been feeling well these days, with the way her life has been jolted, her being pregnant and all. I’m sure you can appreciate the emotional strain,” she said to Kristin, who nodded. “Anyway,” Michele added, “Mrs. Feinberg has every expectation

that you will buy the house.” She followed with a thin laugh. “Can you blame her?”

“I can’t help having mixed feelings,” Kristin said gazing around again. “It’s too good to be true and yet . . . that poor, poor woman.”

“Occasionally, Kristin, home buyers do come upon a bargain. You’re just lucky you

arrived first,” Michele said.

“I suppose,” Kristin said.

Teddy took her hand while Jennifer clung to his other. Then they followed Michele out.

At the real estate office, they signed all the necessary documents and Teddy wrote out the deposit check. Michele took down all the information she felt was pertinent for the directors of Emerald Lakes.

“The committee will review all this before the interview,” Michele said.

“Interview?” Kristin asked. She looked at Teddy who shrugged.

“Oh. Didn’t I mention that? The board’s new residents committee interviews prospective buyers. They used to rely on a private detective, but found this more palatable. Can I schedule you for this coming Tuesday about ten o’clock? I’d like to move everything along as quickly as possible,” she added.

Teddy looked at Kristin.

“I guess that’s fine,” he said. “Where?”

“Right here in our conference room,” she said. “I’ll go ahead and set it up.”

Kristin and Teddy had plenty of time for the trip back to Long Island and they were able to stop at a nice restaurant for a relaxing dinner. Neither of them could stop talking about their house and the development. Only Jennifer held on to her reluctance. It made Teddy think.

“We really didn’t look around enough,” he remarked. “We didn’t even see the entire

complex, the whole lake . . . the dock. I took longer to buy a dehumidifier last year. But we would have been crazy to pass it up.”

“I know. Life’s funny. Someone’s misfortune becomes someone else’s good luck.”

“What’s mis . . . mis?”

“Bad luck, honey,” Kristin explained.

“The old yin-yang,” Teddy said. He reached across the table to take Kristin’s hand. “But if you feel that bad about it . . .”

“I can’t help this ambivalence about the house, Teddy. But I’m sure I’ll get over it,” she said quickly.

“Why do you have to get over it, Mommy?” Jennifer asked.

They laughed.

“Don’t forget,” Teddy warned. “We still have to pass inspection.”

* * *

“It’s like we’re auditioning,” Kristin commented. She had deliberately chosen one of her more conservative dresses. Teddy wore a tie and jacket, and they had bought Jennifer a new outfit. “Don’t we look like Mr. and Mrs. Middle-Class America?” she quipped.

“That’s who we are, honey,” Teddy said smiling. “And I’m not ashamed of it.”

Michele greeted them at the office and led them into the conference room where Philip Slater, Nikki Stanley, and Sid Levine waited.

“Morning,” Philip Slater said, standing and extending his hand. “I’m Philip Slater and this is Nikki Stanley and Sid Levine, two members of our homeowners board of trustees.”

Teddy shook his hand.

“Teddy Morris. My wife, Kristin, and daughter, Jennifer.”

Kristin shook Philip Slater’s hand. He looked younger than she had envisioned, although he was a man with a strong, hard look that reminded her of chiseled granite. He gazed at her with piercing dark eyes that under different circumstances might very well be

attractive. Now they seemed more like lenses specifically for microscopic scrutinizing.

“Please, have a seat Doctor Morris. We appreciate your making the special trip.”

“Not at all. We’re excited about the house and the development.”

“I’m glad. Your prospective new home is one of my favorites. I designed it myself.”

“Did you? Good job.”

“Thank you. Let me explain our setup here first. We feel it’s our unique community

government that has made Emerald Lakes the real jewel of upstate New York, maybe of the entire East Coast. We’re zealots of a new sort, paying homage to the simplest and yet the most important aspects of development life, everything geared primarily to one thing

—maintaining and improving the value of our homes.

“At the risk of sounding preachy,” Philip continued, “a home is more than a mere

structure consisting of wood, metal, and mortar. It’s an environment. How that

environment is shaped will determine how the residents are shaped. One acts upon the other.” He smiled. “A simple fact of life, yet one so often ignored by other homeowners associations.”

Teddy nodded, but Kristin just stared at Slater. He directed himself to her.

“I understand you compose music.”

“Oh, I just tinker.”

“Did you know that one of our residents, Claude Simmons, is a theatrical agent? He

might know where and to whom you should submit your creations.”

“Oh, I’m not good enough to—”

“That would be great,” Teddy said. “Kristin is far too modest. I’ll do the promoting.”

“That’s a nice quality to see in a woman these days,” Philip Slater said. Kristin tipped her head and smiled with a question on her lips. “Modesty,” he explained. “Anyway, we just have a few questions for you. Nikki?”

Nikki Stanley gazed at her notepad and then looked up with beady eyes.

“What do you expect from a development like this?” she asked.

“Expect?” Teddy looked at Kristin. “Oh, I suppose good relationships with our

neighbors, for one thing. Sort of a camaraderie,” he added. Philip Slater nodded. “And all the other things like security. We’ve never lived in a gated community before. It does give you a more secure feeling.”

“I’m impressed with how well the streets and grounds are kept. It’s picture perfect,”

Kristin said.

“Yes, it is,” Philip said proudly.

“You don’t mind following rules that keep it that way?” Nikki demanded.

“Of course not. Why should we?” Teddy responded. “I agree with what Mr. Slater said.”

“Call me Philip, please. Enough people call me Mr. Slater at work.”

“Philip. Real estate values are directly related to what the grounds and surroundings are like.”

“Tell us what your experiences with your present home have been like, your neighbors, your community. What annoyed you? What do you want to see continued?” Nikki asked.

Kristin smiled. It was like some sort of an oral exam, an audition.

They talked for nearly an hour. Some of the questions seemed silly, but she didn’t, as she was tempted to do at times, belittle them or reply sarcastically. Finally, Philip nodded and rose.

“I think we’ve heard enough. Just give us a minute, please,” he said.

Teddy and Kristin left the room with Jennifer, who had behaved better than they had hoped, partly because she was fascinated with the event herself. Not more than five minutes later, Philip Slater emerged to shake Teddy’s hand.

“Welcome to Emerald Lakes,” he said. “My committee is in full agreement. You will be a real asset.”

Exactly twenty-five days later, after what was a remarkably fast and problem-free escrow period, Teddy and Kristin Morris and their five-year-old daughter moved their clothes and other essential possessions into their new home. The only pieces of furniture they moved was Kristin’s piano and Jennifer’s bedroom furniture.

When they arrived, they were given a report as to what had been done: the carpets had been steam cleaned, moldings repainted, windows washed, furniture polished, appliances tuned and cleaned, and the bulbs in lamps and outside fixtures replaced with new ones whether they needed them or not. Kristin even discovered relined drawers and cabinets.

“I think they even removed their fingerprints,” she quipped.

After they had settled in, Kristin decided they should do their supermarket shopping and see a little of the surrounding area. One of the things they had noted when they had first pulled up to the main entrance of the development was that the security guard at the gate had to open the gate to let them out.

“I don’t understand this,” Kristin said. “Why worry about people leaving? They had to have checked them on the way in, right?”

“I suppose.”

The security guard came out of the booth with his clipboard.

“Hello, Mr. Morris. Going to be gone long?”

“Long as it takes to shop for food,” Teddy said smiling.

“Why do you stop cars going out?” Kristin asked.

“Prevent anyone from stealing your car, for one thing. Over at Whispering Pines some teenager breached the security gate and swiped a car just last week. People leave their keys in their vehicles in developments like this.”

“But you knew it was us.”

“So I will open the gate,” he said and stood back. “Have a good day,” he added.

Teddy drove out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I still don’t like it,” Kristin said. “It makes it feel a little like a prison.”

“Are we in jail, Daddy?” Jennifer asked quickly.

“No, honey,” Teddy said. “Mommy’s just kidding.” He turned to Kristin. “You heard

him. In this day and age you can’t complain about having too much security,” he

remarked.

“I suppose, but sometimes it makes you more nervous. I mean, it gets you worrying too much.”

“Sometimes worrying is good,” Teddy said. “It’s like good preventive medicine.”

Kristin shrugged. She sat back and concentrated on the scenery.

The roads leading to and from Emerald Lakes were all quite rural in character. There were no streetlights until they reached the business district of nearby Sandburg, a hamlet with a population of just over ten thousand. On the way they passed moderately priced homes, some old farmhouses, and much undeveloped land and uncleared forest. They

pointed out the school to Jennifer, a sweet looking, old fashioned red-brick structure with immaculate grounds and a full playground in the rear.

“You’re going to love going to school here, honey,” Kristin said, and for the first time, Jennifer did seem pleased.

Sandburg’s business area wasn’t much different in character from its immediate

surroundings. There were only two streetlights on the main thoroughfare and there were no parking meters or parking restrictions, other than not parking in front of driveways or hydrants. They found a space in the supermarket parking lot quickly. Inside, they divided the list and parted when Kristin sent Teddy and Jennifer to fetch some bread crumbs while she went after the dairy goods. Just as she made the turn to the refrigerated section, she paused.

At first she thought the woman in the supermarket looked like someone she knew from Commack, but when Kristin saw her face fully, her heart began to pound.

“Excuse me,” she said, stepping up to her, “but aren’t you Mrs. Feinberg?” Her

skepticism stemmed from the fact that this woman was not pregnant.

Elaine Feinberg turned slowly and gazed at Kristin with what Kristin thought were

vacant eyes, the eyes of someone suffering amnesia.

“Yes,” she said in a voice nearly void of expression, mechanical, uninterested.

Kristin widened her smile.

“I’m Kristin Morris. My husband and I bought your house. I know we met only for a few seconds, but—”

“What do you want?” she demanded firmly, her eyes changing quickly to those of one

terrified.

“Nothing, I just . . . wanted to say how sorry I was for what happened to your husband and . . .”

“You’re sorry? You don’t know how sorry you will be. Unless of course, you become

one of them,”she said.

“One of them? Who’s them?”

“You’ll find out,” she replied.

Kristin watched her pluck a package of frozen mixed vegetables out of the freezer and drop it in her cart.

“You’ve given birth,” Kristin said. “What did you have?”

“I had a miscarriage,” Elaine Feinberg said. She turned and smiled coldly. “The baby was born dead,” she added and pushed past her.

Kristin couldn’t move. She was standing in the same spot when Teddy and Jennifer

found her. As she told him whom she had met and what was said, the cold air from the refrigerator case chilled her. Jennifer gazed up with a look of dismay.

“How can a baby be born dead, Daddy?” she asked.

“You remember, honey. It happens sometimes. It happened to Mommy,” he said quickly, avoiding Kristin’s eyes. They always tried to avoid discussing her miscarriage, which Jennifer was too young at the time to realize.

“Will Mommy’s new baby be born dead again?” Jennifer asked. Kristin flashed a look of panic at him.

“No, honey. The baby is fine. We had it checked just recently. Don’t worry.”

“Didn’t that lady have her baby checked?”

“Jennifer . . .”

“Let’s finish up our shopping and get going,” he said, and Kristin nodded.

“She was so cold, speaking to me like someone in a trance, Teddy, warning me I’d

become one of them. One of what?”

“Don’t think about it. The miscarriage must have been caused by the emotional

aftermath of what happened to her husband,” he said.

“That poor woman.” Kristin shuddered and embraced herself. “Now I’m very glad they

cleaned and polished our home so thoroughly,” she said. “It would give me the creeps to be reminded that my new house was once occupied by a suicide victim and by a woman

who suffered a miscarriage,” she added pointedly.

“Was there a dead baby in our new house, Mommy?” Jennifer asked.

“What? Oh no, honey. Damn,” she muttered. “That woman surprised and shocked me. I

didn’t think. I shouldn’t have said anything in front of Jennifer. Now she’ll have