The Neighbor's Secret(40)
And he was so good for Abe: reasoned and calm, but he gently challenged him to venture outside of his comfort zone. Last weekend, they’d walked to the Cottonwood playground and shot basketball hoops.
Unprecedented.
When Colin chewed on the cuff of his plaid flannel shirt and mumbled that he had no plans for Thanksgiving, all Jen could think about was Abe as a lonely young adult.
She had extended the invitation to Thanksgiving dinner, and Colin’s entire face lit up with disbelief. You mean me?
Obviously, the women of book club—with their chocolate turkeys and kids’ tables and Thankfulness Trees and traditions up the wazoo—were getting to Jen, because she’d ordered the full catered Thanksgiving dinner from Breadman’s Market.
And as she opened the door to Colin, Jen felt a wash of genuine thankfulness toward him.
“Colin,” she sang, “come on in.”
DECEMBER
To: “The Best Book Club in the World”
From: proudmamabooklover3@hmail.com
Tis the Season, Ladies!
The book: THE GIVING MITTENS, a “heartwarming tale of one pair of mittens passed through ten different owners over several decades.”
Follow THE GIVING MITTENS from the Great Depression to a closeted 1950s housewife, from a homeless son reunited with his parents in the 1970s, to a present-day single dad, newly laid off, and unable to purchase the “it” toy for his disabled son.
It has been called “emotionally resonant” and “touching” (literally, ladies, this one is not for the germophobes among us, am I right?) and:
“kind of like the sisterhood of traveling pants. But with mittens. And strangers. And even less realistic.”*
Like last year, we acknowledge our own #luck and #blessings with a clothing drive for those in need! Please collect all outerwear (mittens, scarves, coats) prior to the meeting.
Jen Chun-Pagano has volunteered to deliver everything to the Kingdom School and will be parked in PRIYA’S DRIVEWAY (8323 Red Fox Way) to collect your bags and boxes so dig deep into those closets, Ladies!!!
Whew! You still with me or are you all still hung over from last month’s club meeting??? (Hahahahahaha! But seriously Deb, maybe you could bring an aspirin chaser this month?)
*Okay Deb said this, but I thought it was perfect;););)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It was a tale as old as time: being in the “in crowd” required so much more effort.
This was why Jen found herself standing in Priya Jensen’s driveway, huddled against a cold so bitter that she could feel the tiny hairs inside of her nose freeze, listening to Deb Gallegos talk about air mattresses.
After the November book club, Jen had been initially tickled to be included on the “inner circle” text group, which so far had consisted of reports of coyote spottings, an invitation to an exercise class called Feel the Burn, and a long discussion about which wines were safe for a Paleo diet.
But there was a quid pro quo to all this information sharing: assumptions of availability, demands on Jen’s time. Nobody had asked her about tonight, it had been: Jen will be in charge of the clothing drive!
“The platforms don’t make a difference,” Deb, who amazingly hadn’t yet exhausted the topic of air mattresses, said. “In price, yes, but comfort no. You’re still sleeping on what is essentially a plastic balloon.”
Jen felt a surge of hope for a topic change when Annie Perley drove up, her hatchback full of Lena’s boxes for donation. As soon as Annie stepped out of her car, though, Deb cupped her hands around her mouth. “I brought the air mattresses!”
It turned out Deb was lending them to Annie because Mike’s family was staying with the Perleys over Christmas. Not only did Deb have some strong opinions about the quality of the borrowed air mattresses, but also several thoughts on where Annie should place them.
Jen, increasingly desperate, asked the first thing that came to mind. “Annie,” she said, “how’s Laurel been?”
Deb shook her head slightly, shot Jen a warning look.
“Hey wait,” Jen said clumsily, trying to save the moment. “If these are Lena’s boxes, where’s Lena?”
Another misstep.
Even though Annie was wearing a beanie, Jen could tell her brow had furrowed beneath it. There was a weirdness when Annie talked about Lena, like Lena was a favorite porcelain doll and couldn’t be jostled. Jen wasn’t sure why this protectiveness annoyed her so much, but, like everything else, it did.
“Lena’s not here yet?” Annie said. Her blue eyes were big, her voice tremulous.
“She’s probably just running late,” Jen said. “Deb, do your air mattresses have remotes, because I saw that once?”
“You know, though,” Deb said, “I always lose remotes.”
“Guys, I’m worried,” Annie said. Stuffed into a winter coat, hands hanging at her sides, she looked like a lost child. “Why isn’t Lena here?”
“She’ll come,” Deb said. “Who would donate all this and not show up?”
“There she is.” Jen pointed down the dark road toward a figure walking in their direction.
Annie squinted. “No, that’s Harriet.”
When she reached them, Harriet thrust a brown paper bag in Jen’s direction.