THE NEIGHBORS

It was New Year’s Day.  We wanted to invite the neighbors over.  But Are they, are they exactly the same as us, my husband said.   Oh well, we don’t need exactly, do we, I laughed.  I would prefer, said my husband, close, close to exactly.  I see what you mean, I said.  But it is New Year’s Day.  We should be open.  After all they have been here quite a while and we have never had them over.  It is time.  Will they like the same food, asked my husband.  Will they like mince pies?  Remember, it took me a while to get used to mince pies.  It took me a long while. That gave me pause.  It was true.  It had taken my husband many years to pretend to like mince pies, and many more to actually like them.  I believe he liked them now.  Should we ask?  Should we go over and ask?  I thought.  I said it aloud.  But neither of us wanted to go over.   Each of us, I imagine, in our minds, traced the steps over, rehearsing every move, the tentative knock, what we would say.  I know I did.  It would just sound clunky, I decided.  Why should we make ourselves vulnerable like that?  You’re right, said my husband.  We should wait until next year.  When we know them better perhaps.  Perhaps.  We should definitely wait.