7

  RUBY

  “Mom, my web shooter fell off again!” Cameron cries.

  I’m trying to adjust my Cleopatra wig in front of the new hallway mirror when he runs up to me and thrusts a piece of red plastic in my face.

  “Can it wait a second? If you want me to come trick or treating then I’ve got to get my winged liner on first.”

  Spiderman stares blankly at me. “What’s a winged liner? Like an airplane?”

  I laugh. “No, it’s just makeup.”

  He groans impatiently and stomps back to the kitchen, probably to sneak another piece of candy from the bowl I have ready for tonight’s visitors.

  A month ago, I would have been embarrassed opening our front door to strangers and letting them peek in at the mess of the front hall, but I spent most of September working on this space: sanding and repainting the front door, taking up another disgusting carpet, removing wallpaper, painting the walls and skirting, and laying sleek gray floor tiles. The whole thing was so much more work than I’d expected and took nearly four weeks in total, but the transformation is pretty incredible.

  So after nearly two full months in this house, we have an entryway and a living room that we can be proud of, and not much else. But hey, it’s a start.

  I’m hoping that taking Cameron out trick or treating tonight will give me a chance to meet a few more of our neighbors. I’ve been so busy decorating that I’ve barely had a chance to get outside. Every so often, I’ll see Felicity Parker and her two lookalike buddies power walking by the house in the morning and we’ll wave hello and smile but that’s about it.

  The house to the right of ours is owned by a young couple with no children who drive off in separate cars each morning, both wearing suits. They seem too preoccupied to stop and introduce themselves properly. And the woman living to the left of us, well, I’ve established that she’s not too friendly. Since calling the cops on me that day over the noise of my sanding machine, there have been a handful of other issues come up.

  There was the day Cameron left his ball on her driveway, just an inch from our own, and we came home from the store to find it deflated and nailed to our door. Then there was the time the ceramic dinnerware set I’d ordered never showed up. It was meant to replace our old mismatched and chipped plates and bowls, but despite the tracking saying it had been delivered there was no sign of it. Then the next garbage collection day, I saw the box sitting out by that old witch’s trash and when I went to inspect it, every one of the plates and bowls inside were broken into tiny pieces. My guess is they were delivered to her house by mistake and instead of bringing them over to us like a normal human being, she decided to destroy them and put them out for collection where I could easily see them. The woman is insane, I’m pretty sure. She’ll stand outside her house and stare at me as I unload groceries, no shame whatsoever.

  I’m not going to let Cameron knock on her door for candy tonight, that’s for sure, or he could end up being cooked alive inside her cauldron.

  My hands shake with anger at the thought of the woman as I apply my eyeliner and my ‘wing’ turns into a droop.

  “Oh, Mom. Seriously?” Mory scolds me as she walks by and she stops to grab the stick from my hand. “Let me do it.”

  She wipes away the mess I’ve made then proceeds to draw perfectly neat tips at the side of each eye. She smiles at me in triumph when she’s done. “Beautiful!”

  “Thanks, Mory. Are you sure you won’t come with us tonight?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “Somebody needs to be here for the trick or treaters, anyway.”

  It’s an excuse I can’t argue with and I guess I can’t expect her to want to join in on Halloween with us forever, but it’s the first year she’s opted out and it only serves to further remind me of how fast she’s growing up.

  I leave Mory stocked with a ridiculous amount of candy to hand out and make my way down the street with Cameron, stopping at each house and wishing our neighbors a happy Halloween.

  There are graveyards set up in people’s front yards, skeletons hanging from trees, and hyperactive kids running around everywhere, screaming. It’s such a fun atmosphere and I’m so thankful I still have one child young enough to get wrapped up in the excitement.

  Cameron is looking around for his friend Leo and I have to rein him in several times when he nearly runs off without me. By the tenth or so house, his small bag is nearly full to the brim and when I tell him it’s time to go home, he pleads with me for just two more houses. I pretend to hum and haw before letting him carry on.

  I learned that little trick long ago; tell your child they have to go home before they actually need to, then let them think they’ve convinced you to let them stay a little longer. They’ll feel like they’ve won and, ultimately, you’ll get out of there faster. It works at the playground and the toy store, too.

  When Cameron joins several other kids running up to a house with a completely over the top mechanical vampire who laughs and moves about menacingly at the door, a woman dressed up as Alice from Alice in Wonderland walks over to me and I recognize her as being one of Felicity’s friends.

  “Ruby! You make a great Cleopatra!” she squeals.

  “Thank you, Harriet. I love your costume, too!”

  An awkward smile touches her lips. “I’m Kendra.”

  “Oh, of course! Sorry, I’m awful with names,” I lie, slapping my forehead.

  I’m just fine with names. It’s the carbon copy soccer moms that I have a hard time telling apart.

  Kendra’s arm is now being yanked by an impatient little ballerina and she smiles apologetically. “Grace won’t let me stop and talk to anyone for more than two seconds tonight!”

  We say goodbye and I watch her being dragged off by her daughter to visit more doors when all of a sudden, a pair of hands come down over my eyes from behind and I nearly jump out of my skin in fright. I turn around to see Mory laughing at me, in the same everyday clothing she’d been in when I left her earlier, except she’s now wearing a pair of cat ears and has whiskers drawn on her cheeks.

  “You came!” I cry.

  “Yeah, we ran out of candy at home and it was either this or turn off all the lights and hide until the kids stop knocking at the door. Where’s Cam?” She looks around.

  I point to the house next to us but when I look, he’s not there. I turn around in a circle searching for him but I can’t see him anywhere and my heart starts drumming in my chest.

  “I… I don’t know where he is. He was right there a second ago.”

  “Calm down, Mom, I’m sure he’s fine. He probably just ran off down the street to hit up a few more houses before you could stop him.”

  She’s probably right, but it doesn’t stop the panic that’s steadily rising in my chest.

  I know I usually let Cameron go off on his own during the day but it’s dark now and I’ve heard of way too many abductions starting with a kid getting lost in the hubbub of a large crowd.

  I walk quickly down the road, Mory running to keep up with me, and I look at every doorway, every front yard, every group of children, trying to spot my son. It’s when I’m approaching the end of the street that I spot him. He’s struggling as a man holds on to his arm, pulling him along.

  “Hey!” I shout. “Hey! Get off of him! Leave my son alone!”

  But before I can do anything about it, the man opens the door to one of the end houses and drags Cameron inside, shutting the door behind him.

  8

  MORY

  I’m panting by the time I catch up with Mom, who for some reason is standing outside a stranger’s door, slamming her fists loudly against it.

  “Hey! Get out here!” She turns to me, gesturing franticly with her arms. “Mory, call the cops right now!”

  “What? Why?” I say, no idea what’s going on.

  Before she can answer, the door opens and an annoyed-looking man and a guy about my age, who is clearly his teenage son, stand in front of us, confusion painting their faces.

  I recognize him immediately; he’s the hot blond guy who I passed by that day on my way home from school. The guy who turned back to check me out just as I had been doing the same.

  “Can you please stop banging down our door?” the man says. “What’s going on?”

  My mom steps up close to him, her hands on her hips. “Where is my son?”

  The man looks around his driveway, and then back at her. “Uh… I have no idea. Who are you?”

  “CAMERON!” my mother shrieks, trying to get a look inside the house then giving up and pointing a finger at the man. “I saw you take my son. I’m calling the cops right now.”

  The man looks lost for words and just as my mother pulls out her phone and begins dialing, a little boy approaches the door from inside the house. He’s wearing a Spiderman costume with the mask hanging down and I recognize him as Leo Parker, Cameron’s friend.

  “Um… I think I saw Cam dunking for apples outside the Jensens’ house,” Leo says, timidly.

  Mom’s face turns ghost white as she figures out what’s just happened. The man says nothing as Leo and his older brother look on awkwardly.

  This is the most brutally embarrassing thing I’ve ever witnessed my mother do. And right in front of the only hot guy in this town. Well, he is if you don’t count that realtor, Benton, anyway.

  “Oh my God.” My mother buries her face in both her hands. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I… I thought Leo was my son, Cameron. He’s in the same costume, and I…”

  The man looks amused. “Don’t worry about it. Easy mistake to make. I’m Quinten Parker, Leo’s father. And this is Hutch, our older son.”

  I can’t look up; this is too painful to watch.

  “What’s going on?” a voice comes from inside the house.

  A woman who I assume is Leo and Hutch’s mother appears at the door, a concerned look staining her beautiful face. Well, it’s clear to see where Hutch gets his looks, with parents like these.

  “Oh, Felicity, I’m so sorry!” Mom says, nearly crying at this point.

  She explains the mistake she made—thinking Mr. Parker had taken Cameron—and the woman is as sympathetic as her husband, but I’m sure this whole family thinks my mom is completely crazy. And, by association, me too.

  Felicity turns to her son. “Hutch, can you take Cameron’s sister over to the Jensens’ to help find him, please?”

  “Sure,” he says and we both start down the street as Felicity guides my mom inside their house, presumably to help her calm down a little.

  The trick or treating has mostly come to an end but there are still kids in costumes playing out on the street and stuffing their faces with candy.

  “I’m Mory, by the way,” I tell Hutch. “And I’m really sorry about my mom. I can’t believe she thought your dad was kidnapping Cameron.”

  He looks at me, then scoops back a lock of blond hair that hangs down in front of his face. I’m not sure what passes between us in this moment but he begins to laugh and, I can’t help myself, I start laughing too. And then we’re both walking along, cackling stupidly together and I’m wiping tears from my eyes because I can’t believe what just happened.

  When we finally get a hold of ourselves, Hutch asks, “Haven’t I seen you around?”

  “Probably. We’ve been living here for a couple of months now.”

  “How do you like Lonerock?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “Uh… it’s⁠—”

  “Boring? I know,” he cuts in.

  We both laugh again and I feel instantly at ease with him. In the short time it takes to get to the Jensens’ house, Hutch tells me he’s turning eighteen in a few days, he’s a senior at Hyde Academy (a private school where I’ll bet each term costs more money than my mom makes in a year) and his passion is robotics.

  At the last part, I perk up. “Really? Me too! I took a robotics program they ran at my last school. It was kind of basic but it was the only class I ever looked forward to. I’m the only person I know who actually likes that kind of stuff.”

  “Well, I guess there’s two of us.” His eyes sparkle in the moonlight as he talks. “My dad and I do builds together every weekend. You should come over and join us sometime.”

  I don’t want to seem too eager at this, an offer that sounds like the best thing I’ve ever heard. Getting to spend time with one of the hottest guys I’ve ever met while building robots? Is life pranking me right now? This kind of stuff doesn’t ever happen to me.

  “Sure, I’ll give you my number. Just tell me when to come over and I’ll be there.” I work hard to keep a big goofy grin that’s trying to break through off my face.

  We arrive outside the Jensens’ where several unattended kids are playing a game of pin the tail on the witch’s cat, which I literally have to drag Cameron away from, digging my fingers into his arm to keep the brat from squirming out of my grip.

  When the three of us return to Hutch’s house, we find Mom, Felicity and Quinten inside the kitchen drinking tea and talking.

  The Parkers’ house is easily twice the size of ours, maybe bigger. It’s got huge glass windows, beautiful stone floors and there’s not a speck of dust or dirt anywhere. It reminds me a little of my dad’s house, not the style exactly, but it has that kind of put together look, a bit like a showroom you’d see in a catalogue. As though a lot of thought has gone into placing every item where it is. One thing’s for sure though, if this is where Hutch lives he’d be horrified by the inside of my house, which looks as though the eighties walked up and barfed all over it.

  As soon as we’re inside, Leo immediately grabs hold of Cameron and drags him off to go compare their candy haul.

  Hutch stands next to me a little awkwardly, before he turns to his father. “Hey, Dad, can Mory join in on our build this weekend?”

  Quinten turns to me. “You like robotics?”

  “I do.” I grin. “Hutch told me about the builds you two do, they sound really cool.”

  “Well, we’ll be making an ant with head sensors this weekend, if you want to help out?”

  “I’d love to, thanks!” I turn to Hutch and we both catch each other beaming, then quickly rein it in.

  I don’t want Hutch to know how excited I am about this. I never thought blonds were my type, but this guy is hot as hell, and I’ve now got a date with him this weekend.

  9

  RUBY

  This morning, when I got home from dropping Cameron off at school, I found the woman who lives next door standing on my doorstep. Her name is Bernice Fisher. I learned a lot about her from Felicity and Quinten Parker when I talked with them on Halloween night.

  Bernice has been living on this street for over thirty years and in that time has not made one friend. Quite the opposite, apparently. The Parkers told me that everyone on this block has their own stories of run-ins with Bernice. I’m not even close to the first person she’s called the cops on and I doubt it was the first time the officer who’d spoken to me that day had been sent out because of a call Bernice Fisher had made.

  Quinten told me she’d once reported him for dealing drugs to children after she’d seen him passing his son a packed lunch outside their house. Another time, she’d accused him of breaking and entering when he’d been out helping families tidy up the neighborhood after a bad storm. The feeling around these parts, I take it, is that Bernice Fisher is stark raving mad. And I have the special honor of living next door to her for the rest of my days.

  Seeing her on my doorstep from inside my car this morning—arms crossed against her thin frame, eyes narrowed and waiting—I strongly contemplated reversing my car back down the driveway and ignoring her completely.

  When I’d finally found the courage to get out and face her, she ordered me to remove the bird feeder that’s been sitting in my backyard for the past two weeks. The bird feeder that Cameron made at school and is so proud of.

  According to Bernice, the bird feeder is attracting more birds into her yard and she plans to hire somebody to come over and power wash her back deck due to the mess they’ve made. She then demanded that I give her two hundred dollars to cover the cost of this. And since I don’t have two hundred dollars to spare (and wouldn’t give it to her even if I did), I politely declined. But I did agree to take down the bird feeder.

  Cameron will be disappointed. He’s been enjoying watching the sparrows and goldfinches fly in and out of the yard from his bedroom, but I’ve got so much to do already that it’s easier to just avoid any more confrontation with Bernice.

  At the top of my list of things to do is starting work on the kitchen. Seeing Felicity and Quinten’s house the other night left me feeling even more deflated about the state of my own home.

  A knot forms in my stomach when I think about Halloween night. I can’t believe I accused Quinten of trying to kidnap Cameron and was about to call the cops on him. Am I any better than Bernice Fisher? Is this where she started before it all went downhill for her, accusing her neighbors of everything under the sun, terrorizing the street for the past thirty years?

  It really was just a simple mistake—I mean the kid was wearing the exact same costume as Cameron and they’re pretty much identical in size—but my reaction was completely over the top and I can’t count the number times I apologized to both Quinten and Felicity that night. They were more understanding than I would have been in their place, that’s for sure.

  It doesn’t help me feel any better that they’re this perfect couple with two beautiful children (who both attend private schools, of course) and a huge house and money to throw around. Felicity even coaches Leo’s little league team while Quinten works on science projects with their older son, Hutch, on weekends. They’re the family Aaron and I wanted to be. We never did manage it, though. I don’t for one moment regret our divorce—which went quite amicably—but that doesn’t stop the little stab of pain I get when I see families who not only make it all work but have so much to show for it, too.