Let’s face it, I should have by now, learned to keep my pie-hole shut. Because I yap too much, our new neighbors have moved out even before they moved in.
The young couple was unloading furniture on Saturday and moving it into the rental next to us. The following day, the woman and I were talking about our dogs.
They have a Bull Mastiff puppy named Brutus, who at the time we were talking had crashed out on the living room floor. I offered up the fact that we have four dogs.
“In fact, we jus’ got the fourth one because the man who lived in your house passed away,” I added. “We took it in as a favor, but now he’s ours.”
She made a sad groan as she replied, “That’s so sweet of you.”
There was a slight pause as I could tell she was thinking, preparing to say something else. She grimaced, asking, “He didn’t die in the house, did he?”
My hesitation must have been too long before I answered, “Yes…but I thought you knew.”
Obviously, their landlord hadn’t told them.
She tried hard to smile as she shook her heads sideways. I could tell that the information distressed her as she fumbled for something to say.
“I’m sorry,” I told her.
She sighed, “I think were going to move.”
She and her husband, or boyfriend, or what ever he is to her, haven’t been back since that night and the house is still vacant. I really thought that they knew.