stepped off the porch to greet the last of the cars pulling in.
Inflated blue balloons were tied to the yellow mailbox. Parked cars and vans covered the street as far as the eye could see, abandoned to the long afternoon. A faint beeping of an oven timer came from an open window.
“Is that a . . . ?” Pete’s wife said, her words faltering as she seemed to decide whether to get out of the car. She held a large rectangular box wrapped in baby-blue paper dotted with illustrations of teddy bears and bottles.
Chip walked toward them. “Pot-bellied pig? Yes, getting fattened up for Christmas, I’m afraid.”
He smiled, watching her scramble to move away from the black-haired, 150-pound pot-bellied pig sticking its nose in the air of the neighbor’s yard. His yard. Or rather, his yard until a year ago, when he’d said “I do” to the woman of his life and Evie said, “You sell me this house or I’ll never feed you a donut again.”
He’d immediately handed her the keys.
He nodded to the pig. “Don’t worry. He’s got an Invisible Fence.”
The pig turned, its purple collar glinting before it made for the backyard.
Chip smiled and shrugged. “Neighbors. What are you gonna do?”
“I heard that,” Evie said, pushing the screen door open. His godtwins—two of his six godchildren to be exact—ran out. “Have you heard the oven?”
“It just started beeping,” Chip said, moving aside while Evie—and Gerald, their friendly neighborhood UPS man—walked by.
“Guys, don’t run until you’re outside,” Cassie called, her voice followed shortly by her youngest, Timmy, on one hip. Once outside she set him down, and he—with toddler curls as wild and blond as his brother’s—flew down the stairs to join the fun.
“Oh, Evie,” Birdie trilled, raising her empty glass from her perch on the lawn chair beside Mrs. Lewis. “We’re gonna need a refill.”
“Get up and help then!” Evie called back.
“Honey, we would,” Birdie said, grinning wickedly. “Honestly, we would. But the baby shower is thrown by the best friend, and as you have reminded us one thousand times in the past three months, Bree picked you to throw her shower. Ergo, be her best friend. So . . . chop-chop,” Birdie said, settling back in her seat.
Evie grunted. But even from this angle, Chip could see her cheeks grow pink with pride.
In the middle of the yard, Theo stood in the center of a group of children.
“Now this is the football. And this,” Theo said, bending over a blue bucket and lifting a strip of fabric high into the air, “is the mechanism that straps to your waist. The fundamental goal, as I understand it, is to pull this flag from the offensive player holding said football . . .”
Chip’s goddaughter Deidre raised her hand.
Theo paused. “Yes?”
“Or we can just knock each other over.”
“Oh no,” Theo replied, giving a small chuckle. “This is not Lord of the Flies. We do this civilly. Not to mention some of your parents have substandard health insurance plans and haven’t reached their yearly deductibles.”
“Wait for me!” a girl called from inside.
Chip, holding the screen, stepped out of the way just as Anna raced through it. The afternoon light reflected off her cheeks. The baby-blue bandana she had chosen for the day was firmly in place, but just underneath were shoots of brown hair peeking out. She was but a few months from feeling comfortable enough to throw her bandanas away. She peeled off the stairs after them, laughter rising with a strength they had all waited, hoped, prayed for so long to see.
“Are they starting the game already?” Bree’s voice came from the other side of the screen now, too, led by her six-month bump.
She grinned as she caught sight of Pete and his wife and spread her arms out for a hug.
As the little house on a nondescript little street beside the Appalachian Mountains settled into the afternoon, bees danced around children as they played their games outside, and laughter leaked from every crack in every window. And word from the neighbors that day was that the house glowed with insuppressible joy.
Like a glimpse into the next world.
Discussion Questions
Neighbors can be a blessing in your life or a curse. What is your life like with your particular neighbors? What are some things they do that you appreciate or cannot stand?
If you had a neighbor move next door to you who drove you to sanity’s ledge, what humorous thing would you want to do to get that person out