63- Friendly Neighbor

Ms. Viamonte visited us in the cafeteria today. I could smell that bimbo’s perfume from twenty feet away, and the stench only got stronger as she clickety-clacked her hooker heels over to our table.
She sat down next to Caroline and they started chatting as if they were old friends. Immediately, my ears perked up. I didn’t think Caroline liked Ms. Viamonte. Caroline is always telling me about Ms. Viamonte’s terrible reputation as the neighborhood tramp. I strained my ears and caught bits and pieces of their conversation. It sounded like they were talking about pies and paint colors.
When Ms. Viamonte finally walked away, I casually asked Caroline about their conversation. “So, are you teaching your new neighbor how to bake pies?”
In the education profession you should never start a conversation by saying something negative about someone else. Even though I knew Caroline enjoyed making fun of Ms. Viamonte, I approached the topic as if their newfound friendship was not at all unusual. People’s opinions change faster than the weather in a place like this, and you never want to step on any toes. My tactic proved smart, because Caroline replied with an out of character tune.
“Oh yeah,” my Yankee coworker replied. “That girl isn’t so bad. I think she needs a friend. Someone to take her under their wing. Don’t you ever feel like that, being a new teacher and all?”
“Sure.” I replied. “It’s great to have somebody with more experience to go to for advice.”
“Exactly!” Caroline punched me in the arm. “That Viamonte, she needs guidance. So, hey,” Caroline shrugged, “Somebody’s gotta help that kid out.”
I waited for Caroline to finish chewing a bite of food. “Besides,” she continued, “That girl brought a fresh baked pumpkin pie over to our house. Mark loved it, ate a huge piece right away.”
She brought over a pie? Uh oh.
“She brought over a pie?”
“Yeah!” Caroline punched me again. “I’m telling you, that girl is not so bad. Mark’s going to help her repaint the interior of her house in a few weeks.”
The news just kept getting worse. Mark is a professional house painter; he runs his business outside of their home. He has a team of painters who travel with him from job to job in his Paint Truck, but occasionally he does independent side jobs. It sounded to me like Ms. Viamonte had found a way to sink her claws a little deeper into Caroline’s husband.
A wave of nausea splashed through my stomach when I realized the trap Caroline was walking into.
Should I tell her?
“Why does Ms. Viamonte need her house painted? I thought she just bought it brand new?” Maybe if I acted negative enough Caroline would remember that she thinks Ms. Viamonte is a home wrecking whore.
Caroline shrugged. “She wants different colors. Who cares? She’s willing to pay good money. Lighten up!” Caroline punched me for the third time. Then she stood to indicate that lunch time and our conversation were over.
Like a snake in the grass, Ms. Viamonte is slithering her way into destroying Caroline’s life.