There’s your new neighbor, stooping and choring. You haven’t met him yet, but you want to like him. You tell yourself that. Salt of the earth. In him you see what you want to see. And you want to see something good. Benefit of the doubt. And you hope he sees something good in you too. Nothing unfit, nothing unstable, nothing irregular. So you wave at him and he waves back and smiles and returns to his roses or daylilies or marigolds and you see him glance back your way as you climb into your car and brush the food wrappers from the seat onto the floor and check your makeup in the mirror and pull on your seatbelt and you wonder if he is still looking and he isn’t.