Every time I hung my laundry outside, my neighbor lit a grill to ruin it.

My washing routine was holy for 35 years… Until my new neighbor, who had a grudge and a grill, lit it up as soon as my clean sheets hit the lines. At first, it seemed small. It got personal after that. But I won in the end.

Some people use events or the weather to tell the time of year. I know which ones are mine by the sheets that are on the line: wool in the winter, cotton in the summer, and in the spring, those sheets that smell like basil that my late husband Tom loved. When you’ve lived in the same small two-bedroom house on Pine Street for 35 years, certain habits become important to you, especially since life has taken away so many others.

The last of my white sheets was being pinned up one Tuesday morning when I heard the sound of metal scraping across the pavement next door.

I quieted myself and said, “Not again.” The clothes pins were still stuck between my lips.

That’s when I saw Melissa, who has been my neighbor for six months. Her huge stainless steel grill was being dragged to the fence line. We looked at each other for a moment, and she looked away with a smile on her face.