Chapter Two #2
“Good morning.”
“I’ll come introduce myself once you’ve had time to breathe.”
I laughed.
“I appreciate that.”
She waved again, then started watering the flowers along her porch.
Two houses down, garage doors opened almost at the same time. A golf cart came out of one driveway, and a luxury sedan backed out of the other. A man jogging by slowed down just long enough to welcome me to the neighborhood.
It felt like everyone already knew we had arrived, and they all seemed happy to see us. Everything looked perfect and welcoming, fancy but not lonely.
For a moment, I let myself believe life here could be easy. Coffee in the mornings, dinner by the pool, neighbors becoming friends, and Thursday afternoons spent eating lemon pound cake under crystal chandeliers.
It was a fresh start.
I closed the front door and rested my hand against it. I’d wanted this house for such a long time. As I stood there, I finally understood why someone would work so hard to hold onto it.
I walked into the kitchen, and Bernice followed, giving a single clap of her hands.
"Mrs. Graham, I'm going to make a suggestion."
I looked up from the stack of plates I was getting ready to put away.
"If it involves another box, I respectfully decline."
She laughed.
"It involves no boxes."
"Now I'm listening."
"You hired us for a reason."
"I didn't actually hire…”
"Mr. Graham did," she corrected with a knowing smile. "Which means you have no business unpacking this house while Laila and I are here."
Laila nodded enthusiastically.
"We've got it."
I glanced around the kitchen. Boxes took up half the island, packing paper was all over the counters, and most of the cabinet doors hung open.
"It feels strange to leave everything like this."
"It’ll feel even stranger if you stay," Bernice said. "You’ll unpack a cabinet, and then I’ll just redo it because I have my own way of organizing kitchens."
"You really reorganize people’s kitchens?"
"I absolutely do."
Laila leaned in a little closer.
"It’s kind of scary how good at it she is."
Bernice pretended not to hear her.
"You just moved into one of the prettiest neighborhoods in Tennessee. Go enjoy it."
I looked over at Zaire. He grinned, and I let out an exaggerated sigh as I picked up my purse.
"If I come back and my favorite coffee mug is missing..."
"It won't."
"And what about my seasoning cabinet?"
"You’ll end up wondering why you never organized it like this before."
I pointed at Bernice.
"I don't know if I like how confident you are."
"I'll win you over."
I laughed.
"I'll be back in an hour."
"Take two," Zaire called from the pantry. I rolled my eyes.
"I've been married to you long enough to know that's code for four."
He was right.
I went upstairs to change, then headed out. The afternoon sun felt warm as soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk.
The air smelled of cut grass, blooming gardenias, and something sweet I couldn't identify until I looked up. Lemons. Dozens of them.
A golf cart passed by with two girls wearing matching bike helmets. They waved so enthusiastically that I laughed and waved back.
"You're the new neighbor!"
"I guess I am."
"Welcome!"
They sped off before I could say anything else. Their laughter echoed down the street as I kept walking.
The houses looked even prettier as I walked. There were modern brick estates, white farmhouses, and homes with black-framed windows. Someone had put fresh hydrangeas by their front door.
"I told my husband somebody finally bought that house."
I turned to see who was speaking.
A woman in a lavender athletic dress stood in her yard, trying to get two identical little boys to stop chasing each other with garden hoses.
"Boys!"
Neither one listened.
"I am talking to both of y'all!"
One splashed the other.
The other let out a dramatic scream and fell onto the grass, pretending to be seriously hurt. The woman sighed.
"They deserve an Oscar." I laughed.
"I'm Maci."
"I'm Tasha."
She walked over and shook her head when another splash sounded behind her.
"Those are my twins."
"I'm guessing they keep you busy."
"They keep my therapist employed."
I couldn’t help but laugh even more.
"They're six. They eat every half hour, argue every twelve seconds, and still have enough energy to wreck my living room before bed."
One little boy looked up.
"Mommy! He cheated!"
"I don't care who cheated."
"He started it."
"I don't care who started it either." She smiled sweetly at me.
"See?"
"I suddenly don't feel ready for kids."
"Oh, don't let these two fool you. They're sweet."
Right then, one of the twins ran over with a slightly squished daisy in his hand.
"This is for the new lady." That made my heart melt.
"Thank you."
"I'm Mason."
"I'm Miles," the other said quickly, eager to join in.
"I'm happy to meet both of you."
Tasha crossed her arms.
"Welcome to Lemon Grove Estates."
"Thank you."
"You're going to love it here."
She spoke with total confidence.
I could tell she meant it.
"So..." she continued. "What do you do?"
"I'm an emergency room nurse." Her face lit up with excitement.
"Oh, thank God." I blinked in surprise.
"What?"
"We have everything in this neighborhood except healthcare, literally."
She laughed.
"I'm a pediatric dentist. Jade's an attorney. Nia plans weddings. Simone's an influencer and owns a boutique downtown. Camille does interior design; she really is the stay-at-home wife. Miss Evelyn is retired, but she basically runs all of us."
"Runs you?"
"You'll see."
I was just about to ask what she meant when a white Range Rover pulled into the driveway across the street.
Music floated out from the open windows. The driver stepped out, wearing oversized sunglasses, white linen shorts, and a bright lemon-yellow blouse. People here must really love lemons. She balanced shopping bags on one arm and noticed us immediately.
"There she is!"
She nearly skipped across the street.
"You didn't tell me she was gorgeous." Tasha rolled her eyes.
"Nia..."
"What?"
"You say that about everybody."
"Because everyone in this neighborhood moisturizes, okay!" She reached out her hand to me.
"I'm Nia."
"Maci."
"I've been dying to meet you."
"Dying?"
"Figure of speech."
She pushed her sunglasses down her nose.
"We've had bets going."
"Bets?"
"Not gambling."
Tasha shot her a look.
"It wasn't gambling."
"It absolutely was."
Nia waved her hand like it didn’t matter.
"Anyway... I guessed you'd have locs."
"I thought she'd be taller," Tasha said.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
"So, the neighborhood's been discussing me?"
"Oh, honey." Nia linked her arm through mine like we’d been friends forever. "Nothing exciting ever happens around here."
I stopped for the first time all day. Nothing exciting ever happens around here. Those words didn’t seem like much, but they stuck with me longer than I expected.
Before I had time to think about it, another woman walked up the sidewalk with a fluffy, cream-colored Goldendoodle.
She wore a navy pantsuit and white sneakers, and carried a laptop bag over one shoulder.
"I see introductions have started without me."
"Nia was impatient," Tasha said.
"As always."
She smiled at me.
"I'm Jade."
"Maci."
"Welcome home."
Her welcome felt simple and genuine, not forced. The Goldendoodle walked over and rested his head against my leg.
"Oh, so you like me?"
"He usually has excellent judgment," Jade said
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should."
The women laughed together, at ease like people who have shared birthdays, cookouts, tears, and many ordinary afternoons.
Standing with them, I noticed I was smiling without even trying. For the first time since we got here, Lemon Grove Estates felt less like just a neighborhood and more like a real community. And I realized that communities always know how to keep each other's secrets.
“Since everybody’s here,” Nia announced, clapping once, “we might as well give Maci the grand tour.”
Jade looked at her watch.
“I have exactly forty-five minutes before my next client call.”
“Perfect. That’s enough time.”
“I didn’t agree,” I responded.
“You don’t have to. You’re already outvoted.”
Tasha laughed.
“You’ll learn real quick that Nia doesn’t believe in asking permission,” Jade said.
“I believe in opportunities,” Nia added.
“That you create.”
“Exactly.”
Before long, I was walking with these women I had only just met.
Sidewalks curved through the neighborhood beneath big oak trees and blooming crepe myrtles. It seemed like every family had put their own mark on things, but the community still felt peaceful.
“Who designed all of this?” I asked.
“Black architect from Atlanta,” Jade answered. “The original developer wanted it to feel upscale without feeling… stuffy.”
“He nailed it,” Tasha added.
Nia pointed toward a stone building nestled near the center of the neighborhood.
“That’s our clubhouse.”
It looked more like a boutique hotel than your average community center.
Big windows looked out over the sunny pool. White lounge chairs circled the water, and large umbrellas made plenty of shade. Past the pool, there were two pickleball courts, a fitness studio with tall windows, and a covered pavilion with outdoor fireplaces.
“They have yoga every Tuesday,” Tasha said.
“And wine tastings once a month,” Jade added.
“And karaoke every Sunday.”
“Karaoke?” I asked.
Nia let out a loud, exaggerated groan.
“Please don’t let Tasha sing.”
“I can sing mam.”
“You can project.”
“I have passion.”
“You have volume.”
Listening to their argument made me laugh.
“This neighborhood sounds like a lot.”
“It is,” Jade deadpanned.
“You’ll gain at least ten pounds your first year.”
“Every weekend somebody’s grilling.”
“Every holiday turns into a block party.”
“And Miss Evelyn feeds everybody like we’re still growing.”
“Speaking of…” Tasha nodded toward a white cottage-style home tucked beneath enormous magnolia trees.
The front yard was different from the others. It wasn’t fancier, just older, more lived in, and obviously cared for. The lemon tree there was the biggest I’d seen all morning, with thick branches reaching over almost half the yard.