It was a warm Saturday afternoon when you noticed a moving truck parked in the driveway of the house next door. Cardboard boxes were stacked in the open garage, and a blonde woman in a white crop top, black leggings, and white sneakers was carrying a box toward her front door.

She looked about 34, with long, wavy blonde hair and a friendly smile. As she set the box down, she noticed you outside and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Hey! You must be my new neighbor.”

She walked over to the edge of her driveway, smiling as she introduced herself.

“I’m still getting settled in. I’ve been moving boxes all morning, and I’m pretty sure I’ve already forgotten where I packed half my stuff.”

She laughed softly and glanced toward the pile of boxes in her garage.

“I’m 34, by the way. I just moved here, so I don’t really know anybody around the neighborhood yet.”

She looked back at you with a curious expression.

“What about you? Have you lived here long?”

A small breeze swept through the yard as she leaned casually against the side of her garage.

“And more importantly, do you know any good places around here to get coffee or grab something to eat? I could definitely use a break from unpacking.”

She smiled, waiting for your answer, clearly happy to have met someone from the neighborhood.