Some people learn by listening. Others have to feel the consequences for themselves. My neighbor Owen was definitely the latter\u2014so I made sure he got the lesson he deserved.<\/p>\n
The very first thing I do every morning is brew coffee. The second thing is to glance out the kitchen window to see if a certain silver hatchback is parked in front of my garage again.<\/p>\n
And lately, it almost always is.<\/p>\n
For the past six months\u2014ever since my neighbor\u2019s son moved back home\u2014my mornings have started with a deep breath, a muttered \u201cyou\u2019ve got to be kidding me,\u201d and a walk next door to knock on his door. Six months of him fumbling for his keys in pajama pants. Six months of mumbled, half-hearted apologies. Six months of me being late to work.<\/p>\n
It all began the week Owen Saunders moved back in with his parents.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m thirty-two, and I\u2019ve had my fair share of bad luck in love. Three serious boyfriends so far, each relationship ending with me changing my Netflix password, buying new sheets, and wondering how I\u2019d missed the warning signs. The last one, Eric, broke things off because he \u201cneeded space\u201d\u2014which he apparently found in my best friend\u2019s apartment.<\/p>\n
After that, I decided I\u2019d had enough of relationship drama. I threw myself into my career, poured my energy into my home, and learned to enjoy my own company. As a graphic designer for a marketing agency in the city, I earn enough to live in a small but perfect house that I\u2019ve decorated entirely for myself\u2014no compromises. Teal accent wall? Done. Vintage movie posters? Framed. Ice cream for dinner? Who\u2019s going to stop me?<\/p>\n
The plan was simple: work hard, save money, and next year, take myself on a solo trip to New Zealand. That plan was going just fine\u2014until Owen\u2019s car became a daily roadblock.<\/p>\n
On the morning in question, I peeked through the blinds and, sure enough, there it was: his silver hatchback sitting squarely in front of my garage door. I put my coffee down, shoved my feet into sneakers, and headed next door.<\/p>\n
Three knocks. Footsteps. A bleary-eyed Owen opened the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, hey, Marissa,\u201d he said, rubbing his eyes. \u201cAm I blocking you again?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAs I was yesterday,\u201d I said, \u201cand the day before that, and pretty much every day since you moved back.\u201d<\/p>\n
He winced. \u201cSorry. I\u2019ll move it right now.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood there, arms crossed, while he rummaged around for his keys. At twenty-eight, Owen should have been starting the prime of his life. Instead, he was wearing plaid pajama bottoms and a shirt from a band I\u2019d never heard of.<\/p>\n
Word around the neighborhood\u2014thanks to Mrs. Daley, the self-appointed president of the local gossip network\u2014was that Owen had lost his job at a tech startup and \u201ccome home to regroup.\u201d The story was sprinkled with phrases like \u201chelping his parents\u201d and \u201cfiguring things out.\u201d<\/p>\n
If he hadn\u2019t been sabotaging my commute, I might have felt sorry for him.<\/p>\n
When he finally moved his car, I gave a tight smile. \u201cYou know, this wouldn\u2019t have to happen if you just parked somewhere else.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sighed. \u201cWhere, Marissa? My dad\u2019s in the garage, the street fills up by the time I get home, and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not my problem,\u201d I cut in. \u201cFigure it out.\u201d<\/p>\n
But the very next morning, there it was again\u2014like an unwelcome d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu.<\/p>\n
That evening, I spotted him outside washing his father\u2019s car. I walked over. \u201cOwen, we need to talk about the parking situation.\u201d<\/p>\n
He turned off the hose. \u201cI know, I know. I\u2019m sorry about this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd yesterday morning. And the morning before that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t have many options,\u201d he said, shrugging. \u201cIf I park down the block, I have to walk back through the woods after my night shift\u2014and that\u2019s where the raccoons hang out.\u201d<\/p>\n
I blinked. \u201cYou work nights?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSecurity guard at the mill,\u201d he said. \u201cGraveyard shift. It\u2019s not glamorous, but it pays.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStill doesn\u2019t give you the right to block my garage,\u201d I said flatly. \u201cOne more time, Owen, and there will be consequences.\u201d<\/p>\n
He smirked. \u201cConsequences? Like you\u2019ll call a tow truck?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWorse,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
He chuckled. \u201cYou\u2019re kind of intense, you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n
By the time I got back to my house, I was already planning exactly what \u201cworse\u201d would look like.<\/p>\n
That night, I did some research and found something intriguing\u2014an article about natural wildlife attractants. It turns out the wooded preserve behind our neighborhood is home to raccoons, possums, deer, and more. They usually keep to themselves\u2026 unless tempted.<\/p>\n
The next day, I stopped by a pet store and bought a large bag of wild birdseed and a bottle of \u201cCritter Potty Training Attractant.\u201d The cashier eyed my purchase and asked, \u201cGot a new pet?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomething like that,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
That night, when the street was quiet, I dressed in dark clothes and crept outside. Owen\u2019s silver hatchback gleamed under the streetlight. I sprinkled birdseed over the hood, roof, and trunk. Then I dabbed the attractant on the door handles, mirrors, and around the wheel wells. The smell was foul enough to make my stomach turn.<\/p>\n
Satisfied, I went back inside, set my alarm for 6 a.m., and went to bed.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t need the alarm.<\/p>\n
The next morning, I woke to the sound of shouting. Peeking out the blinds, I saw Owen standing in the driveway, hands on his head. His car looked like a scene from a nature documentary gone wrong. Bird droppings streaked the windshield. The paint was dotted with tiny scratches from pecking beaks. And a plump raccoon was perched on the roof, happily munching leftover seeds.<\/p>\n
\u201cShoo! Get off!\u201d Owen yelled, waving his arms. The raccoon glanced at him, completely unfazed.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t help it\u2014I laughed. Pulling on my robe, I stepped onto my porch. \u201cCar trouble?\u201d I called sweetly.<\/p>\n
He turned. \u201cDid you\u2014? Was this\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWow,\u201d I said, feigning innocence. \u201cLooks like the wildlife really loves your car.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMarissa, I know this was you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cProve it. Maybe it\u2019s just karma for blocking someone\u2019s garage over and over.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked exasperated. \u201cDo you have any idea how much this will cost to fix?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cProbably about as much as it\u2019s cost me in missed hours at work,\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n
He stared at me for a long moment. Then, to my surprise, the anger in his eyes shifted into something else. \u201cYou know what? I probably deserved this.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was not the reaction I\u2019d expected. I\u2019d been bracing for yelling, maybe even threats to call the police. Instead, he gave a half-smile. \u201cHonestly? It\u2019s kind of genius.\u201d<\/p>\n
I blinked. \u201cYou\u2019re not mad?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I\u2019m mad,\u201d he said. \u201cBut impressed. Loud and clear\u2014message received.\u201d<\/p>\n
He disappeared into his house, only to reappear minutes later with two buckets of soapy water, a sponge, and a pair of gloves. He walked over and held out the gloves to me. \u201cHelp me?\u201d<\/p>\n
I raised an eyebrow. \u201cWhy would I help you clean up a mess you brought on yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause,\u201d he said, looking strangely nervous, \u201cI owe you an explanation. And\u2026 an apology.\u201d<\/p>\n
I crossed my arms. \u201cYou can apologize from there.\u201d<\/p>\n
He hesitated, then said, \u201cI didn\u2019t just park there because of my dad\u2019s car or the lack of spots. I\u2026 I wanted an excuse to talk to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I blinked. \u201cYou\u2019ve been making me late for work for six months because you wanted to chat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know it\u2019s stupid,\u201d he said quickly. \u201cBut when I moved back, I noticed you\u2014how you keep fresh flowers on the porch, how you sing along to 80s music when you garden, the way you helped Mrs. Daley with her groceries. I kept meaning to just say something, but every time, I\u2019d chicken out. So instead, I\u2019d apologize for the car.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him, incredulous. \u201cThat\u2019s the worst flirting strategy I\u2019ve ever heard.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m aware. I haven\u2019t dated since college, and I\u2019m rusty. I figured you\u2019d never go for a guy who lives with his parents again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou could have just brought cookies,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t bake,\u201d he admitted. \u201cBut I make decent coffee. And I promise\u2014no more blocking your garage.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him for a moment. He did have nice eyes. And he wasn\u2019t running away or calling the cops after the raccoon incident.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell you what,\u201d I said, taking the gloves. \u201cI\u2019ll help you clean this disaster, and then you\u2019re taking me out for coffee.\u201d<\/p>\n
His grin was immediate. \u201cDeal.\u201d<\/p>\n
We spent the next two hours scrubbing bird droppings, rinsing dirt, and vacuuming seed hulls from impossible crevices. It was disgusting, but oddly fun. He told me about his dad\u2019s health, his job hunt, and his dream of opening a coffee shop someday.<\/p>\n
By the time we finished, the car was mostly clean, though it still had a faint \u201cwildlife\u201d scent.<\/p>\n
\u201cCoffee now?\u201d he asked hopefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot when your car still smells like that,\u201d I said. \u201cBut there\u2019s a wing place a few blocks away. We could walk.\u201d<\/p>\n
His smile widened. \u201cI\u2019d like that.\u201d<\/p>\n
And so, we did.<\/p>\n
Funny thing is, from that day on, Owen never parked in front of my garage again. These days, he usually parks in my driveway instead.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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