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In the space of the entire month of September, the placard on the sign in front of the house next door changed from For Sale to Sale Pending to SOLD! About a week after that, somebody from Holdo Realty pulled up to the curb and yanked the square wooden post from the ground, then kicked around some of the loosened earth to fill the hole. Young Rey watched the activity from her front lawn and hoped the new neighbors included a child of her age as a potential playmate.
When the moving van arrived, Rey saw no indication of a family. No large toys, no furniture suitable for a kid’s bedroom. The deep blue Mercedes preceding the movers on the long driveway opened to reveal a tall, red-haired man who looked close to her mother’s age. He caught her stare from across the fence and offered a smile. Rey’s eyes widened on seeing his companion let out of the passenger side.
The beautiful brown dog bounded over to the fence and put his snout between two pickets for a good sniff. “He’s friendly, don’t worry,” said his owner, who moved closer to attach the leash. The man introduced himself as Mr. Hux and the dog as Chewbacca, a Chesapeake Bay Retriever.
Rey sensed a protective presence behind her, and turned on hearing her mother’s voice. She listened to the adults converse. Mr. Hux revealed he was a concert violinist, and occasionally gave lessons. Rey detected the flirt in her single mother’s voice when she mentioned how she’d look forward to hearing him rehearse from his new home.
Rey’s Uncle Unkar, who lived with him, would no doubt crank up the volume of his TV set in response.
“Can I pet your dog?” Rey asked him.
Mr. Hux advised her to raise her hand first and let Chewie become familiar with her scent. “He’s not really mine, though. I’m keeping him for a…friend,” he said, and nodded toward his car. “I have a cat, Millicent, who’s in her cage at the moment.”
The way he spoke, Rey gathered Chewie’s situation stood to keep him in the neighborhood for a while. The opportunity to play with a dog, since she wasn’t permitted one, proved impossible to pass up. By the time the movers finished shuttling Mr. Hux’s belongings into the house, young Rey had convinced the man a nine-year-old was capable of dog walking and curbing, for a reasonable price. He was amenable to the idea provided Rey’s mother didn’t mind.
Chewie, licking her hand and regarding her with wide, soulful eyes, seemed as excited about the arrangement.
***
Mr. Hux kept his windows open in the cool evenings. The proximity of lot lines and tract housing design granted neighbors unobstructed views of each other’s rooms, when exposed in this manner. When Rey looked out from her bedroom she saw snatches of Mr. Hux’s living room and kitchen.
He’d arranged his furniture differently than the elderly couple who preceded him. Lined the walls with bookshelves. No television, only an expensive stereo system which he played when he prepared his dinner. Chewie and Millicent roamed the spaces freely, and on occasion the orange tabby cat filled one of the windows, staring back at Rey as though challenging her to blink first.
At night before bed, Rey would fold her arms on her open sill and rest her chin, watching the progression of her neighbor’s routine for any deviations. Rarely did it happen. He ate alone at the retro two-top dinette in his kitchen. Scraped the last bits of his meal into the disposal and rinsed the plate. Washed and dried his hands before moving into the living room to remove the current record at play.
If he sensed her spying, he never let on. He seldom appeared slovenly, though, or casual. He seemed most comfortable in his pleated slacks, button-down shirts with the sleeves rolled to mid-forearm, not a copper-hued hair out of place.
After dinner came the best part. Mr. Hux seated himself in a wooden chair in the center of his living room and practiced his violin. Sometimes Chewie and Millie paced around him, listening until they eventually curled at his feet. Rey closed her eyes and tried to place the music, though her mental catalog of music knowledge extended only so far. Every piece sounded classical to her, though she knew her mother heard him playing on the rare occasions Uncle Unkar stayed out at his favorite bar. The older woman revealed names in thoughts said out loud.
Mozart. Beethoven. Sondheim. Berlin.
Lately, as they headed into Christmas, he played one song on repeat and it wasn’t a holiday tune. Not like “Jingle Bells” or something she recognized. Rey asked her mother if she recognized it.
“It’s familiar. Not classical. Maybe The Beatles.” And the woman would walk off humming to herself, as though keeping the melody alive long enough to jar her memory.
Da-da-da-dada-da-da-daaaaa-da… The song followed Rey everywhere.
***
Deep into December, Rey figured out why Mr. Hux agreed so easily to her offer. She enjoyed Chewie’s company, yes, but the dog dragged her on scenic routes around the neighborhood. He wanted to walk long past doing his business, investigating every new smell. By the time she got him home her toes were solid ice in her sneakers.
Nonetheless, she’d impressed Mr. Hux with her punctuality and demeanor with Chewie. He offered to bump her pay if she’d feed both pets and change Millie’s litter during his overnight performance trips. Mr. Hux left Rey’s mother his spare key, and she’d wait in the living room while Rey finished the chores.
They took in the clues Mr. Hux left behind to piece together the life story he was slow to present. A framed Bachelor’s degree from the prestigious Arkanis Academy of the Performing Arts. The custom-built shelves filled with vinyl records–jazz, folk, classical and Broadway. A black and white photo of a tall, dark-haired man, dressed in hiking shorts and a plaid flannel shirt, standing in the foreground of a mountain range. A beautiful smile and narrowed eyes as though squinting into the sun. It had no frame, but a prominent place leaning against the television stand.
Rey’s mother forbade her from wandering into the man’s bedroom. “We’re not here to snoop,” she scolded, yet Rey noticed how her mother lingered by the occasional table at the door where Mr. Hux kept his mail. A fingernail tucked underneath an envelope to lift it and read the return addresses underneath… at least until Rey’s mother got uncomfortable and backed away.
A week before Christmas, after their most recent visit to feed Chewie and Millie, Rey’s mother told Uncle Unkar that Mr. Hux was likely “one of those people.”
The word Unkar spoke to describe Mr. Hux made Rey angry. Homosexuality was not a foreign concept to her, and she liked Mr. Hux regardless of his identity. It saddened her that he seemed lonely, though. Perhaps his job, which took him on the road on occasion, stymied his chances at a relationship.
In those moments Rey ran names through her head, men who might be interested in meeting a handsome musician. She knew of teachers, single parents of classmates. She was also savvy enough to realize her neighbor might not be keen on a nine-year-old matchmaker, so she bided her time and continued to watch for cues on his end.
***
Mr. Hux had a busy Christmas season, playing a full calendar of holiday concerts with the local symphony. It meant not only the evening shows at the performing arts center, but weekends at various venues among thick crowds of shoppers. Rey’s school attended one matinee performance as their final field trip of the year. She pointed Mr. Hux out to her teacher.
“He must be good,” Mr. Dameron said, “to be sitting in first chair.” Mr. Dameron might have been a good fit for the violinist if he weren’t already with a boyfriend.
Despite his schedule, Mr. Hux found time to put up a tree and string some lights around the eaves of his house and the front porch railing. He gifted Rey with a “bonus” for her excellent care with Chewie and Millie and she wanted to return the favor with a plate of homemade cookies. She mixed the dough and cut the shapes herself, while her mother handled the baking.
Coming up to his door, she found Mr. Hux sitting on his porch steps with Chewie’s head in his lap. The dog’s ears perked up as Rey approached, but otherwise he stayed in place as Mr. Hux stroked the scruff of his neck with one hand while holding his phone in the other.
Mr. Hux blinked away tears, reading something on the screen. He thanked Rey for the gift, not looking at her.
“Is it bad news?” she asked, ignoring her mother’s voice in her head to never pry into the man’s personal affairs.
Mr. Hux smiled and shook his head. “No, Rey. It’s wonderful news,” he said. “It appears I’m getting the one gift I wanted for Christmas.”
***
It was close to sundown on Christmas Eve when Rey finished her walk with Chewie. She tossed the tied-up bag of his waste in her family’s can, standing by the curb, and rewarded the dog with a treat. Before crossing onto Mr. Hux’s property, she stopped at the sight of a rideshare car pulling into his drive.
A tall figure in uniform stepped out of the front passenger side. Service dress, Rey knew from friends with parents in the military. The man clutched his hat and ducked into the back of the car to retrieve his duffel. When he turned and caught Rey’s eye he gave a nod, but his smile widened for the dog now barking and tugging on the leash Rey fought to control.
Rey recognized the man from the photo in Mr. Hux’s living room.
“Hey, buddy! You miss me?” The soldier put one knee on the driveway as the rideshare backed away. Rey waited for the car to straighten on the road before slackening on the leash. Chewie bolted into the man’s arms and licked at his face. Rey smiled to see the joyful reunion of the dog and the “friend” to whom Chewie belonged. The man’s eyes closed like in a dream and his dimples became pronounced. Chewie licked each divot and bayed happily, his tail wagging.
“Are you Rey?” the man asked her. Mr. Hux had mentioned her, she now understood. “Thanks for helping out with him.”
Rey missed her chance to acknowledge him when she heard Mr. Hux’s voice.
“Ben!”
Mr. Hux was standing on the porch, and then he wasn’t. Rey never saw a person move so swiftly.
Ben rose to his full height in time to catch Mr. Hux in a tight embrace, anchoring them as Mr. Hux’s feet kicked the air. Their lips crashed together and Ben’s fingers worked away at the other man's tidy appearance. Wrinkles, tangles, laughter. Ben called him Armitage and told him how much he’d missed him. In that one kiss he turned Rey’s neighbor into a different person, one who overlooked Rey as he grabbed Ben’s hand and pulled him toward the house. Chewie gamboled after them.
Rey smiled all the way, not bothered by the snub or the possibility that she might have lost her dog walking job with Chewie’s owner home. Mr. Hux had received his Christmas gift.
***
Rey took her place at the window after dinner. Moderate temperatures on Christmas Eve kept Mr. Hux’s windows open. This time, the dinette was set for two and soldier Ben, now in civvies, ruled the kitchen while Armitage practiced his violin. He played the mystery song again, this time with verve and a vocal accompaniment.
It is the evening of the day…
Rey typed the lyrics into her phone to read along.
I sit and watch the children play… Ben sang in a clear, deep voice as he stirred in pots and seasoned the contents. Mournful and warm to match the tone of the words. Not exactly a song for Christmas, but Rey understood why it fit so well here.
I sit and watch as tears go by…
Ben turned knobs on the stove and joined Armitage in the next room. Rey watched him put his hands on his partner’s shoulders and bend to kiss him. The violin ceased to give precedence to a different kind of music.
“You practiced. I can tell,” she heard Ben say.
Armitage turned to him and smiled. “It’s your favorite song. I wanted to get it right.”
“Can’t think of a better gift than your music.”
Rey took that as the cue to close her window and curtains for the remainder of the night.