Some of you may have wondered what became of The Trimbles. I too wondered for a couple of weeks. After I told Minnie I was a two-time divorcee, I didn’t hear a word from her for two weeks. I really thought I’d thrown her off my trail, and yet was vaguely insulted by it as well. It didn’t seem very Christian to reject me because I married poorly. And the second one dumped MY ass, Minnie! Some compassion!

But guess what! Minnie’s back! And I’m having dinner at her house tomorrow night! And then, in three weeks, she’s hosting a party welcoming me and my son to the neighborhood, and inviting all the neighbors!

I am not sure why I agreed to either of these things: I was sort of caught off guard, and couldn’t think of a polite way to tell her, essentially, to piss off and stop bugging me. Also, the idea of my sardonic 15-year-old Ferris Bueller clone in that bizarre house just struck me as so funny that I couldn’t resist. He will be polite as polite can be, but we will exchange a lot of cocked eyebrows. It’s how we communicate, and the party at the Trimbles will form the basis of a lifelong mother-son bonding memory.

Also, even though I am an atheist, I still believe in all the tenets of  most organized religions — namely, to try to be a nice person no matter what you think of someone’s beliefs and no matter how different they are from you. Minnie may be a fundamentalist Christian, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a kind heart. Vern, on the other hand — I have no doubt he is one creepy fuck who is chopping up human kidneys in his basement lair. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be besties with his poor addled wife.

And as my friend Jennifer points out, sometimes the most annoying weirdos can make the best neighbors.

“Maybe she makes killer peach jam that could help you suffer through the dearth of local produce!” Jennifer said.

She’s right. I am doing this!!