The Perfect Neighbors Read Free

Three men were wrestling a couch down a ramp. The house’s windows were open, and a soccer ball lay in the front yard.
    â€œI saw that couch in Crate and Barrel a while ago, but it was three thousand bucks, which guarantees Cole would spill grape juice on it the first day,” Susan said. “Didn’t you say they have a couple of kids? What are they doing with a three-­thousand-dollar couch? In cream, no less?”
    â€œMaybe they like to live dangerously,” Kellie said. “And look, they’re at the bus stop already. Tessa!”
    Kellie gave a little jump as she waved, nearly turning her ankle as she landed.
    â€œDid I say two weeks? I meant two months,” Susan said.
    Tessa, who’d been standing at the bus stop flanked by her daughter and son, a little apart from the other families gathered there, was waving back. A tentative smile broke across her face. Tessa looked nervous, Susan thought. It was tough moving to a new town.
    â€œYou’re here!” Kellie said when they reached Tessa.
    â€œWe are,” agreed Tessa. She was a woman composed of edges, the sort a child might draw, Susan thought, taking in her blunt-cut hair, her sharp chin, and her straight, dark eyebrows. Tessa was enviably slender in her khakis and simple blue blouse. Susan made a mental note: No carbs or sugar today!
    â€œWe got into town this weekend,” Tessa was saying. “We’ve been staying at the Marriott but we’ll be in the house tonight since the furniture just arrived.”
    â€œI’m Susan Barrett. Welcome to the neighborhood,” Susan said, offering her hand. “How old are your kids?”
    â€œBree is nine,” Tessa said, touching her daughter’s head. “And Addison just turned seven.”
    Both kids had that scrubbed, first-day-of-school look. New clothes with the creases still showing, combed hair, clean backpacks. Except Addison was trying to hide a fat, wiggling worm in his pocket. That detail alone made her sure that he and Cole would become fast friends.
    â€œGreat names,” Kellie said. “And Addison’s the same age as Noah and Cole! Who’s his teacher?”
    â€œUm . . . Miss Klopson, I think?” Tessa said.
    â€œThat’s who Noah and Cole have!” Susan said.
    â€œThat’s wonderful,” Tessa said. But her smile seemed to require an effort. Her expression, like her voice, was flat—­almost restrained. Was she sick? Or maybe she was just wiped out from the move, Susan thought.
    There was a little awkward pause, then Mia tugged on ­Kellie’s arm. “Can I interview them?” she asked.
    â€œOh,” Kellie said to Tessa. “Sorry, Mia writes the ‘Kids’ Corner’ column for our neighborhood newsletter. Would you mind if she asked you a few quick questions?”
    â€œUm . . . sure?” Tessa said. She tucked her hair behind her ears and frowned. Mia was already digging into her backpack for her official reporter’s steno notebook and pen.
    Mia cleared her throat and uncapped her pen. “First question,” she said. Some of the other parents and kids turned at the sound of her voice ringing out. “WHY did you move here?”
    Tessa staggered back, as if she’d been pushed.
    â€œWhat?” she whispered.
    Kellie stepped forward, steadying Tessa by her arm. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look like you’re about to faint.”
    â€œI’m fine,” Tessa said. “I didn’t—I didn’t eat any breakfast.”
    â€œHere,” Kellie said. She dug in her purse and came up with the granola bar she’d been unsuccessfully pushing on her kids. “Try this.”
    â€œIs she going to get paid for eating it?” Cole wanted to know.
    â€œShh,” Susan said. She grabbed Cole’s water bottle from his backpack and offered it to Tessa. He could drink from the fountains for a