A few years ago, they’d also known all their neighbors in this well-established area, but as prices had soared, many of their older neighbors had sold out and moved to more manageable condos or retirement communities. Lately the turnover had been so frequent that there were only a few familiar faces left from those early years…the Wilsons down the block, the Delgados on the corner and Janice Ortiz and her elderly mother on the next street.
“Mom, hurry up!” Josh said impatiently. “Can’t you walk any faster?”
Emily grinned at him. “I can, but I’m enjoying the fresh air.”
He regarded her blankly. “Why?”
“Someday you’ll understand,” she said, ruffling his brown hair.
“It’s like stopping to smell the roses,” Dani said. “Grandma Dobbs tells Dad he needs to do that.” She wrinkled her forehead. “I’m not sure what she means, though.”
“She means your dad works too hard,” Emily told her.
“No joke,” Josh said with disgust. “He’s never around anymore to play ball with me.”
“He has an important job,” Emily reminded him, feeling the need to defend Derek, even though Josh was expressing a dissatisfaction that she often felt herself. Then, as a reminder to herself as much as to her son, she added, “We should be grateful that he’s such a hard worker. That’s why we’re able to live in such a great house and you kids get to go to wonderful schools.”
“I’d rather be able to play ball with my dad,” Josh grumbled. “Dad doesn’t even come to my games half the time anymore.”
Emily resolved to remind Derek that he needed to get some balance back into his life, that his son needed more from him than a fancy house and every hot electronic game to hit the market, all purchased out of guilt over his too-frequent absences and a string of last-second disappointments.
As they approached the sprawling, Spanish-style house with a red-tiled roof that the Carters had just moved into, she hunkered down on the sidewalk in front of the kids. “Now remember to be on your best behavior,” she instructed. “The way you are when we visit Grandma Dobbs and Grammy and Poppy, okay?”
Josh was practically bouncing with excitement. It had been a long time since there had been a boy his age living close enough for him to hang out with. “Come on,” he pleaded, then made a dash for the pretentious wrought-iron gate that was new to the property. He tried to turn the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He regarded it with dismay. “It’s locked.”
Emily was as startled as her son, but she spotted a buzzer next to the gate. “I think we probably need to push that button,” she told her son, and watched as he gave it an eager punch.
“Yes?” The disembodied voice sounded far away.
“I’m Emily Dobbs, your new neighbor. My kids and I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
A long buzz sounded and the gate swung open automatically. Josh stared at it, then grinned. “Cool!”
Dani wasn’t as enthusiastic. She eyed the gate warily and reached for Emily’s hand. “What if we can’t get out again?” she whispered.
“I’m sure it only keeps people out,” Emily reassured her. “It’s not meant to trap anyone inside.”
“Are you sure?” Dani asked.
“I’m sure, sweetie.”
By the time they’d walked along the curving driveway, two kids were racing in their direction. They skidded to a stop.
“Wow, this is so great,” the boy said. “I didn’t think there were any kids in the whole neighborhood. I was really bummed. I’m Evan. My sister’s Caitlyn.”
“I’m Josh,” her son told him. He added grudgingly, “That’s Dani.” Focusing his attention once again on the boy, he said, “I heard you like to play ball.”
“Any kind,” Evan confirmed. “You want to throw some passes out back? Football’s my favorite. I’m gonna go pro someday and play for the Dolphins.”
He said it with such absolute confidence that Emily had to fight to hide a smile.
Josh looked up at her. “Is it okay, Mom?”
“Sure,” Emily told him, then looked back to see that Dani was eyeing a dainty little girl in orange shorts, a purple T-shirt and tiny sneakers with dismay. The outfit, with grass stains and streaks of dirt, was a stark contrast to the pastel flowered dress and patent-leather shoes that Dani had chosen for the visit.
“How come you’re all dressed up?” the child asked Dani with a puzzled look. “You been to church?”
Dani regarded her with disdain. “I like to dress up. I like to read books and I like to have tea parties, too.”
“I play ball with my brother,” Caitlyn said. “But only ’cause there’s nobody else around.” Her wistful gaze shifted to follow the direction in which the boys had disappeared. Then she sighed. “My mom just baked cookies. You want some?”
Obviously the thought of home-baked cookies was enough to overcome Dani’s reservations about Caitlyn. “Sure.” Then she glanced hesitantly toward Emily. “You’re coming, too, right?”
“Absolutely,” she said, and followed the girls up the walkway.
When she spotted Marcie Carter waiting in the doorway, Emily couldn’t help smiling at the irony. In her fashionable linen slacks, silk blouse and expensive jewelry, she looked as if she ought to be Dani’s mom, not Caitlyn’s. Her makeup was flawless, every highlighted hair on her head was in place and her French manicure didn’t have a chip in it. Emily immediately felt as disheveled as little Caitlyn, but unlike the child she found herself apologizing.
“I’m sorry I’m such a mess, but the kids were so anxious to come by, I didn’t take time to change. I hope you weren’t getting ready to go out.”
“No, indeed. I’ve been baking cookies. Come in and have some. You’ll have to excuse the chaos, though. We’ve barely finished unpacking.”
Emily glanced around, looking for some evidence of chaos, but as near as she could tell this house was already a hundred times tidier than her own. There was a faint lingering scent of paint in the air, mingling with the far more appealing aromas of sugar and chocolate. The tile floor in the foyer had been replaced since she’d been here for a neighborhood cocktail party a couple of years ago. All of the carpets looked brand-new, as well. Every piece of furniture was in place, the pillows were plumped, fresh flowers filled huge, oversize vases in each room. If this was chaos, she wanted to know how to accomplish it.
“Do you mind sitting in the kitchen?” Marcie asked. “I’ll be able to keep an eye on the oven. I still have a few dozen cookies to bake for a PTA fund-raiser on Monday. The girls can take some cookies and milk onto the patio.”
“That sounds perfect,” Emily said, following her through the house. In the kitchen, she had to keep her mouth from dropping open. It looked like something out of a design magazine with its expensive cherry cabinets, black granite countertops and professional-grade stainless-steel appliances. Serious stuff must happen in this kitchen. It wasn’t meant for someone who threw a meal together at the last second, stuck frozen dinners into the microwave or baked cookies from refrigerated dough from the grocery store.
“How