Something about that ceiling fan always bothered her.

The blades rattled ever-so-slightly as Vicky, hugging a pillow to her chest and glaring up into the fan's midsection, thought how tempting it would be to just take the whole damn thing down herself and hope to God her husband wouldn't notice. Even from the peace and quiet of her bed, with the soft satin sheets curled up around her ears, she could hear the constant buzzing overhead.

"David said he'd take that down years ago," she thought glumly, turning over under the bedcovers, curling her knees up to her chest. "But then again, he never keeps his promises." She shut her eyes, feeling her heart sink terribly. She'd felt this way often nowadays. Ever since David had stormed out of the bedroom three weeks ago and left her to spend her nights alone in their bedroom, crying herself to sleep, wondering how long they'd last, wondering how different things would be had Kevin still been with them.

From the angle she lay, Vicky could clearly hear the front door open, followed by soft footsteps and her husband's voice. She strained momentarily, thinking he'd been calling for her, only to be stricken with confusion at the sound of a stranger's voice; Another man's. Vicky rolled over onto her back to better hear the commotion from downstairs, but realizing she couldn't hear any better than before, she lazily tossed one leg over the edge of the bed and hauled herself up. When she got halfway to the door, she heard David clearly call to the stranger, "My wife will be down soon; She'll want to know who's invaded her home," followed by a short, foreign laugh.

Vicky paused in her tracks, feeling slightly defeated. "He can still read my mind, though," she thought glumly, shoving her feet into the maroon velvet slippers she'd received from Kevin two Christmases ago. The heat from the hallway hit her hard after feeling accustomed to the air-conditioned interior of her bedroom, and she wondered when the autumn air would finally kick in as she slowly shuffled her way down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"Hello."

Vicky stopped involuntarily for the second time that day. Had he heard her coming down? He couldn't have. His voice was trailing from all the way in the kitchen…

The stranger laughed then, his footsteps making their way towards the stairwell. "It's alright," he spoke amiably, "You can keep walking."

Vicky, feeling both awestruck and confused, finally exposed herself to view, sporting a head of uncombed hair, an old pair of rose-colored sweatpants, and a gray 'Army' T-shirt. She started unblinkingly into the stranger's face; He was a middle-aged man, having a full head of hair that was beginning to gray at the temples, and his eyes twinkled at her as if he knew something she didn't. Vicky self-consciously stuffed both hands into the pockets of her sweatpants, forced a shy grin to her face, and muttered a barely audible, "Hi."

The man smiled in return, waving genially. After a moment, he held his hand out to her. "Johnny Teddington," he announced, "New neighbor." When Vicky didn't reply, he continued, "Your husband introduced himself to me…" He began to grow uneasy at the silence between them. "I offered take a look at your car…."

"Oh," Vicky spoke quickly, suddenly bouncing on her heels, not knowing how to reply to his random act of kindness. "David could just drive me, it's not a problem-"

"Oh, no, I can fix it for you in a second," Johnny insisted, "I'm heading off with your husband to get the car back, see what I can do… But a busted engine, it's not as bad as you'd think… I could get it done within an hour, it's no problem, really."

Vicky smiled sheepishly. She hugged her T-shirt tighter around herself, feeling somewhat naked standing before this stranger, completely puzzled by his generosity. She found him discomforting, although she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was that made her feel that way…

"Nice house," Johnny said suddenly, observing the kitchen from a distance. "Beats next door."

Vicky shrugged, her eyes grazing the man's face as he stared at – or through, it seemed more like – every inch of her home. She felt offended in some way, although she'd just been complimented. "I don't know," she said, "I always thought that house was nice. My husband and I went in there once, bad idea, though, with our neighbors being-"

"Yeah, David told me," Johnny said, wandering off into the hallway off from the living room.

Vicky raised her eyebrows slightly, still hugging herself, her eyes falling to the floor. She noticed then how carelessly she was dressed, wiggling her feet inside her slippers, and slowly made her way back to the staircase. She had both feet on the first step when she noticed Johnny staring intently at one of the framed photographs hung across the hallway.

"Don't touch him," she heard herself say warningly, unaware that it was in fact her, herself, speaking.

Johnny turned suddenly, looking puzzled. He then smiled sheepishly and made his way back to into the living room. "I'm sorry," he said, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously, "I shouldn't be walking around your house like this…"

"No," Vicky said, feeling annoyed. She sighed heavily, brushing her hair our of her eyes. "Don't be… I'm just tired." She paused, looking everywhere except into her visitor's face. She had always hated meeting new people in general. But this was getting ridiculous. "You know…" She trailed right then, unsure if what she was about to say would appear to rude in context; "David's probably waiting for you."

The silence between them lingered for a moment. Johnny stared at Vicky nervously, feeling a pang of hurt from somewhere in his chest. 'Talk to her for ten minutes, and she already hates me,' he thought, suddenly dreading having her over his house that evening. He felt as if he'd already made a wrong impression on her. As if he didn't match up to her expectations as a good neighbor.

'Or maybe,' he thought logically, 'She's intimidated by anything that qualifies as male. She's going through a rough time with her husband, maybe she just needs to back off from all men in general. She's smothered…

But smothered by what?'

He didn't know.

Just then, David burst through the front door, smiling airily. "Ready?" he mouthed silently to Johnny. Johnny nodded in return, ambling towards the doorway, leaving Vicky frozen on the stairwell.

"I just spoke to your wife," Johnny said, almost automatically.

David closed the door silently behind them, locking it. "Yeah?" he said, checking the doorknob. "How'd she take you?"

Johnny shrugged. "Like she wanted me the hell out of her house."

David paused, biting his bottom lip thoughtfully. Johnny took it as a sign of frustration.

"She's hard to read," David concluded, making his way down the front steps.

Johnny followed him, walking briskly to keep up. "You know," he said suddenly, "It could just be my mind doing its usual jumble of shit, but… Did something happen to you two? You and your wife, I mean." He paused momentarily, attempting to clarify his question. "Something that you can't change back… Something that she's taking very hard right now. Something that…" He stared down at the ground right then, feeling dumbfounded. "I don't know," he said, laughing out of embarrassment, "I just got this feeling, you know, when she was talking to me… All sorts of strong vibes…"

"Our son died," David butt in, his voice sounding sharp.

Johnny took a moment to let the reality of the answer seep in. He nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry," was all he could manage.

David smiled painfully. "Don't be," he said, "I'm sure it seemed obvious… Vicky's not taking it very well, anyone can see that."

Johnny nodded in agreement.

David walked over to his car, a small navy-blue family sedan, fresh from its departure from the garage. He unlocked all four doors with the press of a button, leaving Johnny with no choice but to scramble into the passenger's side, feeling guilty. He'd touched a hard nerve. He noticed from the way David slipped the key into the ignition, his face lacking any sort of emotion. Johnny felt that if he spoke another word, David might shove the key through his skull.

The car ride seemed rather awkward to either men, both unwilling to break the silence set before them. Johnny begged internally for some sort of chaotic event to be thrown at them, to help take his mind off his seemingly pissed off neighbor. He should have seen it coming… Obviously something had been bothering Vicky; But why the hell would it concern him? It was none of his business. He shouldn't have made the attempt to shove himself up the asses of his new neighbors, never mind hitting them with a blow so hard as bringing up their dead son, that it would kill all sense of communication between them.

'But I didn't bring it up,' Johnny reminded himself, fixing his eyes on a pair of children walking down the road, staring curiously at a chipmunk who had his mind set on risking his neck to make a run for it across the road. He then stole a nervous glance at David, who sat statue-like in his seat, firmly gripping the steering wheel with both hands. Johnny had the sudden impression that his neighbor would rather have occupied himself with wringing his neck.

"You know, John," David said then, tearing Johnny away from his dread; "I'm glad you moved down here. I think Vicky and I might be able to start over for once. Having a new neighbor, I mean. It's a change of light, you know?"

Johnny nodded, a smile spreading across his face. He wasn't as much of an asshole as he'd blamed himself to be.

"And don't worry," David chuckled, his eyes soft in the warm summer sunlight penetrating the tint of the windshield; "She'll eventually lighten up to you, man."