“Thanks. I’m going to go for it.”
“YES! THAT’S my girl! I KNEW you had it in you! God, I’m so proud of you right now, Tori!”
Tori stuck her phone in her pocket.
One, two, three—she threw open the door and stepped outside.
Immediately the sounds of the party hit her. Three middle-aged men who stood near the drinks table, chatting, appraised her as she walked over. She looked good, she knew that, in her jeans and fitted pink sweater. She strode by them and took her time examining each pitcher, reading all the handwritten tags, aware of their eyes on her.
TEQUILA MOCKINGBIRD.
THE PHANTOM OF THE VODKA.
MAYBE I SHOULD GET BANGS? PUNCH. She couldn’t help but laugh at that one and poured herself a plastic cup full.
“Funny, right?” A woman appeared beside her. “I mean, I actually cut my bangs during the pandemic, and I swear this is true, my husband never even noticed.”
Tori looked at the woman speaking. One of only two African Americans at the party, she was middle-aged but well-preserved, in a kelly green sweater and chunky gold jewelry that looked real to Tori.
“Hi, I’m Kenya. I live over there.” The woman gestured to a white house a few doors down. “And this is Shawn.” She grabbed the arm of a nearby man and pulled him close.
“How you doing?” Shawn raised his red Solo cup and offered a dimpled smile.
“Tori.” Tori made a little wave with her hand.
“You just moved into the Allards’ rental house, right?” Shawn asked. “That thing is twice as big as any of the other houses on the block. It violates the social contract.”
Tori smiled weakly. “I guess you should take it up with them.” She let out a little laugh but Shawn only scowled.
“What makes you think I didn’t?” he asked.
She wished she could whip out her phone and ask Cyrus how to deal with this passive-aggressive man. But she was on her own.
“Now, honey.” Kenya tittered nervously. “We adore the Allards. Jo and Daniel are dear friends of ours.”
“I mean, it’s inches from the property line,” Shawn said. “Can you imagine if everyone tore their house down and did that? There would be no green space left.”
“Well, all my neighbors have big trees,” Tori offered meekly.
“Exactly my point.” He snapped his fingers. “The Allards are taking advantage of that fact. Meanwhile, they ripped out about three full-grown trees to build that thing. Two dogwoods and a redbud.”
“I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like inside that house,” Kenya said, smiling hard at Shawn. “I walked through it once with Jo when she was in the middle of designing it, but that was before all the final fixtures were put in. It’s so… unusual.”
“You’ll have to come over for coffee sometime and see for yourself,” Tori said, hoping she didn’t sound too desperate. Cyrus had promised that she would make lots of friends. That she was an amazing person. But Cyrus had never been to a block party in Bethesda, Maryland.
“I wasn’t trying to push for an invitation, but I’ll take it. I’ve already had two Tequila Mockingbirds,” Kenya said. “Every other house on the block is a center-hall Colonial. Bor-ing.”
“Unless you like trees,” Shawn muttered under his breath.
The women ignored him. “It’s normal to be curious.” Tori stopped herself before she explained that curiosity was one of the mind’s protective measures. She didn’t want to go full-on therapist here. She wanted to strike the right balance, to appear as an equal. “I’d be happy to show you the house.”
Kenya turned away and snapped her fingers at a couple nearby. “Caren, Miguel, come meet our new neighbor.”
Another middle-aged couple stepped forward, and now the five of them formed a nice little circle. “This is Caren and Miguel. They don’t live on Newport, but we let them come to the parties. This is Tori. She just moved in. She’s renting the Allards’ place.”
“Oh, wow.” Caren smiled. “Welcome to the neighborhood. You have kids?”
Tori nodded. “One. A little boy. Three years old.”