The Data Analyst

Bill sat in his bedroom, two fingers between the blinds, watching the neighbors.

Who is visiting now? They are always having company and always park in front of my house.

Bill was a data analyst for a large corporation with data server banks as large as O'Hare Airport in Chicago. He worked from home for two days, but the other three had to commute to Palatine from Schaumburg. Monday and Friday were his work-at-home days, and he was finishing up his Friday reports when the cars began pulling into the house next door.

Reilly and Joan Nagle lived next door, a cute couple without kids. Joan looked ready to give birth any day, and Bill knew from listening to their conversations her hospital bag was packed. She wouldn't have the baby at home or at a birthing center. Reilly insisted she deliver at the hospital because Joan had a history of complications.

I say Bill listened to their conversations because I was there when he tapped their phone and created a link from his home office to their living room with an extension in their bedroom. I disapproved and told Bill that, but he hooked it up anyway, laughing at me.

"Bill, this isn't right. First, it is illegal; second, it is unethical; third, it is downright creepy. Are you a voyeur? That is illegal also! What the hell is wrong with you?" We had a massive argument about it. I disconnected the link to their bedroom when Bill fell asleep, but he knew the next day I had done it and told me to go home.

So, I did. I went home.

**

Bill and I had dated for three years. We met at work when his team did a project with my team. Bill was a fast track in data analytics, but his hobby is electronics and radio transmitters. I have a M.S. in Computer Science and a M.S. in Information Systems. Yeah, I double majored, AND I completed both in four years. I'm a whiz kid.

It was troubling to me when Bill began acting weird about his neighbors. He analyses data, and I started analyzing him. As he watched the neighbors, I observed him. My photographic memory was a great help because I could only sometimes record actions in writing or verbally later when I was away from him.

We had a party at Bill's, and he invited his neighbors. Several couples and a few singles showed up. Bill was only interested in Reilly and Joan and focused on them in his conversations. I could hear him drawing them out, with "really" and "you don't say" or "how so?" Joan just couldn't shut up and reminded me of Mrs. Maisel in her fast-talking banter dispersing personal information.

When she blurted out that Reilly had a second wife, my head almost spun off my shoulders. Oh no, no, no, Bill will never let that rest!

Thus began the eavesdropping and spying of Bill Owens, a data analyst.

**

Bill created spreadsheets and proudly presented them to me.

"What is this, Bill?"

"I logged them for two months. Their visitors, their leaving and returning, her growing belly. I think it can't be Reilly who impregnated her."

"Geez, Bill, you are nuts. Of course, it is his baby. What is wrong with you?"

"She is stepping out on him when he visits the other wife."

"When does he visit the other wife?"

"I don't know, but he is gone a lot. He was gone every other weekend for the months I logged their actions."

"He is a SALESMAN."

"Exactly! How convenient."

"Joan is the one who told you about the other wife. She must not care that he has one or that he spends a weekend or more with her."

He rushed to his hutch and came back with photos. Everyone was of Joan. Joan is in white shorts and a yellow tank top, with a flat stomach. Joan is getting in the car for a beach trip in a bikini. Joan is in very tight jeans. I was flipping through the photos haphazardly until one made me gasp. Joan was wearing the same jeans with a slight baby bulge and holding hands with a guy who wasn't Reilly. He had her hand in his, his other hand on her tummy, kissing her. In the next photo, he had his ear to her stomach, and she smiled widely.

"Pictures and audio don't lie, Virginia!" he scolded me. My mouth hung open at the revelation.

**

Bill had another party. Joan waddled in, barely able to walk now, hips spread by pregnancy and her belly heavy, visibly uncomfortable. She declined liquor and asked for ice water, to which she added a sprig of mint from the cocktail bar.

"I am so uncomfortable. I wish this baby would get out of me. We didn't want to miss the party because it will be hard to go out once the baby comes."

"Will you name the baby Reilly or Joan, after yourselves?" Bill was grinning, his idiot grin that he thought charming but made him look like The Joker.

"No, Reilly wants me to name the baby after the father."

"WHAT?" we both exclaimed so loudly all the guests looked at us. Joan shushed us, smiling.

"Reilly is having twins with his first wife; this baby is mine. Well, mine and Larry's. Larry is Reilly's brother. Larry wants to stay in the States, but his Visa is ending. If he has a child…well, we are working all the angles. You guys are the only ones who know all of this. Please keep it secret; we love you guys and know you will. You can help us." She gave us a sweet, dimpled smile, her deep brown eyes boring into us.

**

Joan had just come back inside her house, exhausted. Reilly didn't know how to find the transmitters, so she did it while he walked the yard with her. She pointed out some high ones he had to climb the ladder to reach. A garden tub was filled with scalding water and Reilly had smashed each item with his sledgehammer and dropped in the hot water.

"They bought the story last night, Hon. He can't hear us now that we've destroyed his spying setup. Call Lev, I mean Larry, and tell him it's safe; he can bring Irina over, and we will introduce them. Our nosey neighbor will be our cover now. He thinks we are a kinky family. You will tell him you no longer have a second wife - one less worry since it was illegal anyway. Your brother was angry about the affair but has forgiven you both, and Larry and Irina are back together. They expect to raise the twins, and you and I will raise our baby. You will say it doesn't matter who 'sired' the babies; the father will be the mother's husband. He will think he has secret information on us, but we have proof of his doings. He used his training to illegally spy on us; spied on us while working from home; he unlawfully entered our property, tapped one of our phones and was window peeping. My cousin, who is the attorney, has all the proof if he tries any further mischief. In the meantime, he will be sharing his large income with us in small increments." They laughed uproariously at the thought of a more extensive bank account.

She pulled Reilly to the kitchen window, knowing that Bill was peeking through his blinds as always. She stretched her shirt over her head so that her heavy breasts, swollen by pregnancy, cupped in Reilly's hands, were in full view of their voyeur neighbor. They gave Bill a show he had been hoping to see months ago.