Last Memorial Day weekend, all hell had broken loose after the McNeils’ friends parked their RV on the street for three days.
#Secret neighbor characters cracked
The neighborhood would probably be up in arms about the graffiti it took effort to maintain the safe, deceptively low-key feeling that Cottonwood Estates cultivated, and occasionally, people cracked under the pressure of doing so. Janine, Janine, the Cottonwood Queen, May I recommend a little less caffeine? Annie wished she could take credit for the couplet, but Deb Gallegos had come up with it a few years back at a barbecue. What had she been thinking about before Janine’s announcement? ( Sole proof! Back then she wouldn’t have had the brain power to catch the pun.) Her entire existence had felt wispy and unfamiliar back then, and some days the sound of her sneakers slapping on concrete seemed the sole proof that Annie was real.
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At first, the four-mile loop around her neighborhood had taken Annie hours to complete. She’d started the habit almost fourteen years before, when Laurel was a newborn. Her daily walks were meditative and, if Annie was honest, less for the dog than for her. “Mwah!”Īs she zoomed off, Janine’s voice trailed out the open window, “Remember to park in your garage, Annie!”Īnnie and Mike had the only one-car garage in all of Cottonwood Estates: someone was always going to have to park outside.Īs she continued uphill, Annie tried to retrieve the vague feeling of contentment she’d been enjoying before Janine appeared. “Until tonight then.” She blew an aggressive kiss in Annie’s direction. Not like anyone will be eating at the restaurant anyway, he’d said glumly. “Mike’s rearranged his schedule to take the kids,” Annie said. Because the eighth graders handed out juice to the donors, Laurel’s attendance was mandatory. There had been minor drama when Sandstone K-8 had scheduled its annual blood drive on the same night as the September book club meeting. “The Gleasons claim he also yanked the windshield wipers off their son’s van, although honestly that thing is in such bad shape, I’m not entirely convinced it even had wipers before. Janine leaned further out of her car window. ”Īnnie swallowed her laugh and matched Janine’s frown. Someone spray-painted the street sign on Canyon Road, right by your house.
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Her face was pink with excitement and there was a halo of frizz around her blond ringlets. “Did you hear about the vandal?” Janine asked. In theory, Annie rooted for Katie-for all children-to succeed, but something about Janine’s presentation always caused a flash of panic within Annie: Should Hank and Laurel be composing oboe concertos? Why haven’t they written cookbooks for charity?Īnnie would have to remind herself that Laurel’s grades were excellent, that Hank was a joy, that both were curious and kind people, and that people who bragged about their children were usually overcompensating for something. Janine’s daughter Katie was always achieving things, which was wonderful. Gossip, Annie suspected, as she tugged the dog’s leash to coax her over to Janine’s car. Like how now, Janine had pulled over to the side of the road with a screech, zipped down her window, leaned out her head, and excitedly flapped her hands in front of her face, like she’d taken a bite of a scalding-hot breakfast sandwich. She truly appreciated Janine and everything that she did for the neighborhood, but sometimes, especially first thing in the morning, the woman could be a lot.
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It all started that brilliantly sunny Thursday morning, with Janine and her gossip.Īs the familiar green minivan cruised around the bend in the road, Annie considered flattening herself against the Jensens’ hedges.