Даниэла Стил - Neighbors

Andrew used a flashlight to guide them through the Harriman house, and they found the closet easily. Andrew pointed to the crescent wrench they needed, and Peter handed it to him. Then he looked at Peter.

“Is that Arthur Harriman, the concert pianist? I didn’t know he lived next door to us.” He seemed surprised and impressed. “Or does he just look like him?”

“No, it’s him. He’s very discreet, and he travels a lot for concerts. He’s had the house soundproofed so the neighbors can’t hear him practicing.”

“Are you his son?” Andrew asked him, curious. He spoke to Peter in a pleasant tone, and smiled warmly at him. Andrew could be very charming when he wanted to be. He had been much less so when Peter opened the front door. His tone had been harsh, but not now.

“I work for him,” Peter said with a smile. “I’m his ‘sleeper.’ I sleep at the house at night, in case he needs anything. But he manages fine on his own most of the time, except for something like this.”

“I don’t suppose our other famous neighbor will make an appearance tonight. The gates hardly ever open, and I hear she never goes out,” Andrew said cryptically.

“Who’s that? Mr. Harriman never talks about his neighbors.”

Andrew looked surprised Peter didn’t know. She was a legend in the neighborhood, and the city. It was a name everyone knew, all over the world.

“Meredith White, the famous movie star,” Andrew told him. “She’s been a recluse for the past ten or fifteen years. No one ever sees her. She’s like a UFO. People wait for sightings, but she’s elusive. My wife thought she saw her at a yoga class once, but it’s not likely. I don’t think she’ll come out unless her house falls down, and that’s not going to happen.” He pointed toward the mansion on the corner, surrounded by the tall hedge, and Peter looked surprised. Arthur had never mentioned her. Maybe he didn’t know, and Peter never wondered who the neighbors were.

“I didn’t know she lived there. My mother saw all her movies. I’ll have to tell her.” Peter smiled at the thought.

The two men walked out of the Harriman house together, and Peter went with Andrew to help him shut off the gas at his place. Then Andrew followed him to turn off the gas for Arthur’s house. They could hear helicopters overhead by then, flying low, checking the city.

“It sounds like a war zone,” Andrew commented.

“Where are we all going to sleep tonight?” Peter asked him. “I’m not sure any of our houses are safe, even with the gas off.”

“I have to show up at the hospital pretty soon,” Andrew told him. “It’s our protocol for citywide emergencies. I’ll have to figure something out for my wife and kids.” He looked pensive. “I think there may be shelters set up at the public schools. The auditorium at the hospital will probably be set up too.” He could always take them there. They were discussing it when they joined Arthur, Tyla, and the children.

—

Joel Fine and Ava Bates had been making love when the earthquake hit. For an instant, Joel thought he had hit new heights with her, and then they both realized what it was, leapt out of bed, and rushed to the doorway where they stood and kissed, still naked.

“That was a good one, babe, wasn’t it?” he teased her, while Ava looked panicked and clung to him, as the sound of the earthquake roared around them, and all the books fell out of his bookshelves and crashed to the floor. Joel had founded two brilliantly successful startups and made a fortune. His house had been decorated by a famous interior designer, and he had a Bentley and a Ferrari in the garage. Ava had been living with him for two years. He was forty-two years old and Ava was twenty-nine. She was a tradeshow model they had hired to do ads for his most recent startup, and she had caught his attention immediately when he attended a photo shoot. He had taken her to Vegas for a weekend, and she never left. She was going to college online now, and wanted to be a graphic designer. When he met her, Joel thought she was a gorgeous girl, and had applied all the same rules to her he always did. Give them a great time, concentrate on having fun, keep them around as long as they’re amusing and easy to be with, and future plans not included. He never dragged out a relationship once it stopped being fun, and Ava had lasted longer than most of his women. He was divorced and had no interest in getting married again, and said so. His first marriage had cured him. So had his own parents’ bitter divorce. He had spent his youth as an only child in Philadelphia as a pawn between parents who hated each other, and he fled gratefully to college at UC Berkeley. He had married after business school in their entrepreneurial program. And when he caught his wife cheating on him, he had divorced her, before they could turn into his parents. He had learned his lesson early. Marriage wasn’t for him, and he had no intention of trying again.

He was always honest about what he had to offer. He promised nothing except great sex and good times. He had no kids and didn’t want any. His mother came from an old Main Line family, and his father was in investments. He had grown up with privilege and money, and had stayed in California to make a fortune of his own. He had exceeded all his expectations. His parents were stunned.

As soon as the shaking ended, he walked into his bathroom with Ava right behind him, handed her a robe, and put one on himself. They both put on running shoes. There was broken glass everywhere.

“We’d better get our asses out of here, before the place blows up. I have no idea how to turn the gas off,” he told her. They could already smell it. She tied the robe around her with nothing under it, she couldn’t find her underwear in the dark and he didn’t have a flashlight. The house was pitch black.

They groped their way out of his bedroom and down the stairs. It was the consummate bachelor pad, full of expensive art and sleek furniture, selected by his decorator. They made their way out the front door and onto the street a minute later, and walked straight to the small knot of people standing outside, an older man with a mane of white hair, who looked like Einstein, two younger men, and a woman and two children. The younger men stared as Ava walked up to the group. Peter could guess that she had nothing under the bathrobe. Joel was a handsome man, who exuded confidence and looked as though he owned the world. Peter wondered if they’d been in the shower when the earthquake hit. The woman looked nervous and shaken by the experience, and the man looked as though he was enjoying it. There was a fearless quality to Joel, which Peter almost envied. He’d been shy and had asthma as a child. He couldn’t do sports because of his asthma, and he lived through reading books, and came alive once he started writing. He exchanged a shy smile with Ava, while Joel talked to the others and seemed to forget about her. He acted as though he owned her.

“We should have someone out here serving drinks,” Joel suggested, and Andrew smiled. They all introduced themselves, and stood chatting for a few minutes about what had happened in their homes, and what they’d been doing at the time. They were talking animatedly when a blond woman walked up to them in a white shirt and jeans and running shoes. It was a warm evening after the hot humid day, and she smiled when she saw them. They hadn’t seen the gates open, or the woman slip through. There was a couple following behind her at a discreet distance, and she was carrying a first aid kit, and a large powerful flashlight.

“Hi, is everyone okay here? Anybody hurt or need assistance?” They all stopped for a minute to look at her, and Tyla said that they were fine, just shaken up. No one was hurt. “Does anyone need food or water?” Andrew looked at her carefully for a minute and realized who she was. He had never seen her in the flesh before, and couldn’t keep himself from staring at her. She spoke to Arthur, who was laughing and good-humored, as Andrew whispered to Peter standing next to him, “Meredith White.” Peter’s eyes flew open wide and he tried not to stare at her and couldn’t help himself.