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Back The Mother Next Door Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. About the Author
  5. HALLOWEEN
  6. Seven Weeks Before Halloween
  7. ONE
  8. TWO
  9. THREE
  10. HALLOWEEN
  11. Six Weeks Before Halloween
  12. FOUR
  13. FIVE
  14. SIX
  15. HALLOWEEN
  16. Five Weeks Before Halloween
  17. SEVEN
  18. EIGHT
  19. HALLOWEEN
  20. NINE
  21. TEN
  22. HALLOWEEN
  23. ELEVEN
  24. TWELVE
  25. Twenty-Five Days Until Halloween
  26. THIRTEEN
  27. FOURTEEN
  28. HALLOWEEN
  29. FIFTEEN
  30. SIXTEEN
  31. SEVENTEEN
  32. EIGHTEEN
  33. NINETEEN
  34. TWENTY
  35. HALLOWEEN
  36. Eighteen Days Until Halloween
  37. TWENTY-ONE
  38. TWENTY-TWO
  39. HALLOWEEN
  40. TWENTY-THREE
  41. TWENTY-FOUR
  42. Eleven Days Until Halloween
  43. TWENTY-FIVE
  44. TWENTY-SIX
  45. Eight Days Until Halloween
  46. TWENTY-SEVEN
  47. TWENTY-EIGHT
  48. TWENTY-NINE
  49. HALLOWEEN
  50. THIRTY
  51. Four Days Until Halloween
  52. THIRTY-ONE
  53. HALLOWEEN
  54. THIRTY-TWO
  55. Two Days Until Halloween
  56. THIRTY-THREE
  57. The Night Before Halloween
  58. THIRTY-FOUR
  59. HALLOWEEN
  60. THIRTY-FIVE
  61. Halloween, Present Day
  62. THIRTY-SIX
  63. THIRTY-SEVEN
  64. HALLOWEEN
  65. THIRTY-EIGHT
  66. HALLOWEEN
  67. THIRTY-NINE
  68. HALLOWEEN
  69. FORTY
  70. HALLOWEEN
  71. FORTY-ONE
  72. FORTY-TWO
  73. FORTY-THREE
  74. FORTY-FOUR
  75. HALLOWEEN... NOW
  76. FORTY-FIVE
  77. Seven Months Later
  78. FORTY-SIX
  79. FORTY-SEVEN
  80. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  81. ALICE SWANSON’S
  82. Reader's Guide
  83. Questions for Discussion
  84. Booklist

But we’d done it. We’d shaken the snow globe, and once the flurry of flakes descended, what would be left was our grand four-bedroom, four-bathroom, two-car garage, screened-in porch dream at the top of a cul-de-sac, snug as a bug in a rug. And the three of us, together and happy.

I’d make sure of it.

So it hadn’t come without a cost, without risk.

So I’d had to call in a favor.

We deserved it.

THREE

Kendra

They could say what they wanted about us, but we knew how to throw a killer party on Ivy Woods Drive.

It was the highlight of the year—never got old, no matter how many times we’d done it. Think hordes of shrieking kids. Drunk parents, good food. Think the most amazing, epic, terrifying Halloween decorations in the county. And this year? A band. Live music, trivia contests. I. Was. Ready.

Halloween had been my favorite time of the year since I was a teenager—armrests pushed up in theaters, the killer with a chainsaw, your eyes buried in a guy’s sweatshirt, his hand on your skin. Drinking on haunted hayrides and in corn mazes. Driving too fast on dark roads. Ghost stories in backyards. The chance to let your hair down, be reckless. What was not to like?

Of course, we all grow up. Get married. Have kids. Move to the suburbs. But who says us moms can’t still have some fun? We deserve fun after all we put up with. That’s one reason I started the Ivy Woods block party, grew it from an annual neighborhood tradition to a community phenomenon. I was its mastermind. Maybe that made me sound vain. But everyone knew it.

Grandma Betty insisted, If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. So I did. I made the plan, stuck to it. As I always did. Let’s just say I held shit together in this place.

From Paul’s perspective, I was a control freak (my husband wouldn’t know what to do with himself if I suddenly dropped off the face of the earth, but he liked to pretend my constant planning was a flaw because it made him feel better about himself). But for everyone else, I was a miracle worker. It was why I was told, constantly, “I don’t know how you do all you do, Kendra.”

And, yes, I’ll admit it. I took satisfaction in hearing that.