Silver Gardens

A huge moving truck pulls into the driveway next to mine, its engine roaring loader than the lawn equipment the maintenance crew uses just as I’m about to shut the front door to my condo.
Lydia Vaughn, who had been my neighbor since I moved in, moved out only three days ago after her daughter decided she needed more care than Silver Gardens offers. We have lots of things—indoor and outdoor pools, a workout facility, a recreation center, an option for in-house meal delivery or eat-in at the dining hall, and basic medical care—but Lydia’s daughter insisted she needed more attention. Now, it would appear my new neighbors will arrive soon.
Before I even settle down with my newspaper and a steaming mug of coffee, my phone chirps with a text. Word spreads quickly around the complex for many things. A new resident is always top on the list for the others to become excited over.
I couldn’t care less.
I just hope they’re a quiet couple or it’s a nice single person. I don’t want to deal with someone complaining my tree is hanging over their roof—which isn’t my responsibility—but we have a few busybodies who make it their mission to make mountains out of molehills.
Our retirement community is relatively small, but it’s also inherently close-knit. It’s an odd occurrence for anyone to move in or out, any antics to go unnoticed, or an accident of any kind to happen without the entire complex being in the know.
I look down at my phone’s screen and see the name I knew I would. The busiest busybody of them all.
Chrissy McCallan. The queen of the busybodies, as she’s better known to the residents. The nosiest one in Silver Gardens whose backyard unfortunately backs up to mine.
Yeah, I’m lucky like that.
She’s bitched about my floodlights being too bright when I take my French bulldog, Rook, out for her nightly potty time before bed. She’s moaned over the smoke and odor—her words—coming from my grill in the summer. She’s even carried on to the board over my holiday decorations. Apparently, she’s anti snowman, flag, and pumpkin.
What she loves and takes immense pride in is being the first to know something and share—i.e., gossip about it—the person, or her favorite…both.
Not only does Chrissy enjoy talking ad nauseam on the topic, but you also can’t trust that she hasn’t embellished the story to either suit her needs or add drama to what is typically a pretty drama-free place to live.