Dorothy, from the three girls next door.

I was lying on the floor half behind our entertainment center, trying to get the cables sorted out, when the doorbell rang again.

Lisa came from the back of the house and answered the door. From where I was lying, I was happy to get a view up the brief, loose shorts she was wearing on this hot day. She stood with legs apart, and I smiled to see she'd skipped the panties to get more air circulation. I lay quietly so as not to disturb Lisa and lose my nice view.

"Howdy neighbor!" a woman's voice said. "I see you just moved in. I'm Dorothy from next door. Put 'er there!"

"Hi," my wife said. "I'm Lisa."

I heard palm slap palm. From where I was, I could only see Dorothy up to mid-thigh. Above her knee was light gold, but below was creamy pink down to the top of a pair of scuffed mud-kicker boots in what must have been about size two. Lisa isn't big, but I could see her looking down to meet Dorothy's eyes.

"We'all thought you might appreciate a little basket of home-growns to help you settle in. I'm afraid with the heat wave and all, our garden's gone crazy and we can't keep up."

"Thank you," Lisa said. "You're so kind." She took the straw basket Dorothy handed her.

"We got carrots, strawberries, new potatoes," Dorothy said, "Last of the asparagus. Couple cucumbers, some zucchini -- blamed if I know why Ellie calls 'em courgettes -- early season, so they're only 'bout an inch 'n a quarter by seven, but that's best for some recipes, Izzy tells me. Oh, right, I live with my girlfriends Arielle -- she's the blondie, and Isabelle, she's the hippie gypsy. Drop by sometime if you see us out in the garden."

"Thank you again," Lisa said. "I don't know anyone out here, so it'll be nice getting acquainted. I used to have a garden when I was growing up and do a lot of cooking and canning. It'll make the place feel more like home just to have it next door till Steve and I get ours going. Maybe in the front, though, the pool and the pool deck kind of eat up our back yard."

"Any time," Dorothy said. "Isabelle has some good recipes to trade. And maybe you can do containers. I bet tomatoes would do good out back, with the sun."

Lisa said, "It must be a very friendly neighborhood. We've had visits from our other next-door neighbors Jeri and Tom, and Sal and Sally Langfield from across the way."

"Mm," Dorothy said. "Sal and Sally are nice young people, but they don't have much of a life. Whenever I talk with them, it's always 'Gotta get home!'. Seems like they're always running round and round training for track meets, off on trips with their parents, or stuck at home studying."

"My husband used to do a lot of running. Maybe he'll see them when he gets started up again. They said they'd be at Tom and Jeri's barbecue Saturday with their mom and dad. Will you be there?" Lisa asked.

"Naw," Dorothy said. "We tried a couple times, but I don't like drunk guys getting touchy on me. Jeri, guess she's all right, but I'm afraid I got us uninvited when I hit Tom in the nose."

"Was he drunk and groping you?" Lisa asked. "I'd have given him a swift kick!"

"Naw, nothing like that," Dorothy said. "Actually it was sorta my fault. I'd had a beer too many and I didn't like the way he was chatting up Isabelle. I got jealous and picked a fight. But we get along OK now, we just don't go to the barbecues. It's kinda a couples thing, and, y'know, we fit in like a three-wheeled bicycle."

"Is it a bad scene for women at Jeri and Tom's barbecues? I think Steve really wants to go, but I don't want to go someplace I'll feel uncomfortable," Lisa said.

"Naw, it's fine till after dark," Dorothy said. "After that, it depends on what you're in for. Izzy actually stayed, and she said she had a lot of fun. Um. But tell you what, If you and Steve go, and you don't feel good about staying, leave him at Tom and Jeri's and c'mon over to our place. Beats sitting at home or fightin' your man to go home."

"Thanks," Lisa said. "I'll look forward to seeing you around."

"So long, sis," Dorothy said. "Oh, and Isabelle said you should peel the zukes and the cukes before you use 'em. Skin's a little tough and scratchy this season. Must be the heat."

She and my wife grasped hands again, and held them for a long moment. Lisa looked steadily down at Dorothy, at her face, I imagined. I couldn't really read Lisa's expression from where I was looking.

"So long, Dorothy," Lisa said.

A drop of sweat spattered the threshold directly below the loose, crumpled crotch of Lisa's shorts. Their hands parted, and I heard Dorothy's boots clack down our front walk.

I adjusted my too-tight shorts.

Lisa stood looking for a minute, then two, before she closed the front door. If a man had been looking that way, I'd have sworn he was watching Dorothy's butt as she walked away.

I heard Lisa humming something as she returned to unpacking in the back of the house, and I went back to fixing up the entertainment center.