The Nameless Neighbor

I’ve slowly gotten to know the new neighbors next door. I first met them after they just arrived when I brought them some cookies. I made sure I left a note with our name and phone number so they could call if they had any questions. The lady called this weekend and left a message about a question she had, and when I called her back, we had a nice chat. She seems like a sweet lady. I found out that she is also a military wife, so we laughed about the mishaps of moving. We even decided that we’ll have to get lunch sometime. There’s only one problem. I have no idea what her name is. I know what her last name is from the caller ID, but it shows only her husband’s first name. Husband and I have even replayed her phone message, straining to hear what her name is, but the message is a little garbled and we’re still not sure. It’s silly because I know most people would just tell me to ask her politely, “What was your name again?” But, for some reason, I just feel bad and I can’t. Husband’s strategy is hoping that he runs into her outside and he can ask her, since he hasn’t officially met her yet. I’m pretty sure I’ll find out the name soon enough. Until then, she’ll be the nice lady next door, and I’ll be the clueless girl frantically trying to figure it out.