“Didn’t you stop by with cookies when they moved in?”

“No, I didn’t,” grumbled Lucy. “I wish Prudence Path had never been built.”

“But now that it’s there you might as well get on good terms with your new neighbors.” Pam shrugged. “You might need them someday.”

“I got along fine without them before,” said Lucy, filling the cream pitcher and setting it on a tray along with the sugar bowl. “Willie Westwood is okay. Her daughter is a cheerleader, like Sara, and she suggested carpooling.”

“Westwood, Westwood. The name’s familiar…”

“Her husband is that new vet, over by MacDonald’s Farm. She’s very horsey herself. She’s almost always in riding togs.”

“Who’s the lady with those adorable twins? I’ve seen her around town.”

“Bonnie Burkhart. Her husband is the new guidance counselor at the middle school and he also coaches football. Sara babysits for the twins, Belle and Belinda. She says they’re really sweet.”

“They sure look cute in those matching outfits.”

“Who wears matching outfits?” Rachel had let herself in the kitchen door, along with Libby, the Stone family’s Lab. Libby was wiggling ecstatically, which Rachel took as a compliment, but Lucy suspected her enthusiasm was directed at the tray of cookies Rachel was carrying. Lucy grabbed the dog and hauled her outside to the kennel. When she came back, Rachel and Pam were arguing.

“You shouldn’t dress twins alike,” said Rachel. “It stifles their individuality.”

“Lots of twins like dressing alike,” said Pam. “Some even do it as grown-ups.”

“They even go to special twin weekends,” added Lucy. “I saw it on TV. Weird.”

“I agree,” said Rachel. “I don’t think it’s healthy.”

“I was just filling Rachel in on the neighbors,” said Pam. “Who’s the hot lady with the VW convertible?”

Rachel’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s your neighbor? The one who always wears high heels and spandex?”

“I haven’t made her acquaintance,” said Lucy, raising an eyebrow, “but Bill has. He says her name is Frankie LaChance and she’s very friendly.”

“Ooh,” chorused Pam and Rachel.

Lucy shrugged. “Just because she has a fabulous figure and she’s divorced…”

This time the oohs were louder and longer.

“She has a daughter Sara’s age. Renee. She’s 14 and thinks she’s terribly sophisticated.”

“Sounds like a handful,” said Rachel.

“Who’s sophisticated?” Sue had arrived, along with a tray of miniature cream puffs.

“You are,” said Lucy. “These look delicious. Did you make them yourself?”

“I did. I wanted to impress the new neighbors.”

“These certainly ought to,” said Lucy. “Even Pear and Apple’s mom.”

Sue’s eyebrows shot up. “Pear and Apple?”

Lucy nodded. “Sara babysits for them, too. One is three and the other is almost a year old. She says they’re very serious children.”

“No wonder, with names like that,” said Sue.