“I can’t hear anything, let alone my children, so it’s a trade-off,” I said as she strode across the lawn, carefully avoiding the oscillating sprinkler. “Why aren’t you in the office?”

She sat down on the wicker chair next to me. “I asked to work from home today after I woke up at four a.m. with a terrible headache. I will feel like myself by noon.”

I shook my head. Only Melissa would time her hangovers like a scheduled conference call.

I wordlessly slid another LaCroix that I had brought out over to her, and she cracked it open with a satisfying click. We watched as an Amazon delivery truck slowed down the street, and we waved to Michael, the driver, whom I saw almost more than I saw Mark. It stopped in front of the Hacker house across the street.

“I just got an e-vite for Heather Hacker’s kitchen remodel reveal party.” Melissa leaned back and closed her eyes as she sighed. “I already declined. She always asks me when I’m going to stop working and stay home, like my career is a hobby. Or if Tony is really fine with staying at home with the kids, like I’m emasculating him.”

“Well, at least she didn’t call you a dirty hippie, like she did to Jess.” Last year, at the school midsummer carnival, Heather stood behind the lollipop-pull table and “whispered” about Jess to one of her cronies. Of course, it didn’t help that the crony in question was Del’s ex-wife, Sharon, who was more than gleeful about a chance to gossip about her ex’s girlfriend. Thankfully, only Melissa and I heard it, as Jess was waiting in line for an ice-cream sandwich. My chest still burned with rage when I thought about it, but I didn’t tell Jess because the dynamics of a divorce could be tricky and I didn’t want to put her in the middle.

“Did you get an invitation?” Melissa asked.

I snorted. “Nope. Sorry, I guess I’m not worthy of being in on the reveal.” Heather Hacker was PTA royalty extraordinaire. She had grown up in the area and knew everyone. Her sister had been the president of the PTA before her and had passed the title down. It was like living among a sorority that I had no desire to join but that ran everything around me. On brand, she also was on the HOA board and somehow managed to fit all of those arbitrary rules into her immediate consciousness. Apparently, mailboxes have standards, and ours was not up to snuff.

A month ago, she’d tried to sell me herbal supplements that she was peddling. She looked me up and down at school pickup and told me HerbaFit would help me “lose the baby weight” even though Emily was five.

“What exactly is a kitchen remodel reveal party anyway?” I asked.