Julia’s short brown hair clung to her sweaty brow as she plunged her dull garden spade into the thin layer of soil around her mailbox. Hidden beneath the soil was a dense and never-ending mixture of clay and rocks. It was bad around the mailbox, but it was worse in some of the side beds around the front and back yards where boulders hid a few inches beneath the surface. She’d have to do her best to hide the state of the garden beds from her husband, James. He was already on edge about the numerous flaws and imperfections they’d found throughout the house and property since they’d moved in a few weeks prior.

Julia had taken inventory of her neighbors’ yards and flower beds on her walks around the neighborhood. She found the majority of houses had lush lawns and thriving floral arrangements. They’d either paid to have some of the rock and clay replaced with fertile soil, or most plants were able to adapt and thrive regardless of the rough terrain. She hoped it was the latter though she knew many homeowners in her new neighborhood could easily find the funds to transplant their half acre of yard.

Julia had been skeptical the first time James had driven her through Scarlet Oaks Knoll to look at the house. She’d never been able to afford anything outside of a townhouse in what her mother referred to as the “somewhat dodgy part of town.” And there was James taking her through what appeared to be the set of The Stepford Wives minus the docile wives with perfectly coifed hair - at least from what she could see at that moment.

Her skepticism eased when they pulled into the faded driveway of the largest house in the development. The gleaming white for-sale sign was the only redeeming aspect of the foreclosed and forgotten relic in front of them.

The first time she took the kids on a walk around their new neighborhood she came upon three women adorned in matching Under Armor yoga pants and sports bras who were getting impressively deep with their quad stretches in the front yard of a house on Larkely Lane. The tall brunette in the middle caught Julia’s eye as Julia walked by the woman’s driveway. The Amazonian woman asserted her dominance by maintaining eye-contact while loudly discussing Julia’s family without any regard to who may hear her. She nodded her head towards the Herrick family and said, “The new family that moved into Monica’s house. Not much of an upgrade there. Let’s hope they can keep up with the mortgage so we won’t have another embarrassing foreclosure in the development.”

The slightly smaller blonde lowered her voice and cautioned, “We’re on the board now, Megan; we’re supposed to be welcoming the new neighbors.” She plastered on her best smile and waved to Julia and the kids. Alexis paused her balancing act on the curb and proudly waved back while Julia ignored the petit blonde in order to continue her stare-down with Megan.

The third woman, almost identical to the second in appearance, added, “I can’t believe we were ever friends with Monica. Did you all sign up for the wine-tasting fundraiser at the library yet? I want to make sure we all end up at the same table.” Like that the two blondes had written off the Herrick family as they continued to drone on about their upcoming social calendar full of PTO events and fundraisers.

Julia, the product of a local uppity private high school thanks to a full merit scholarship, made a mental note to steer clear of Larkley Lane on future walks. She’d survived high school by laying low and keeping a tight social group of just two other girls. Though more than a decade had passed since her school-girl years, avoidance still appeared to be her best option. Those types of girls, women now, played dirty and she didn’t have it in her to fight back. She looked away from Megan first, her head turned to the other side of the street in an effort to hide the scarlet-hued shame spreading across her lightly freckled cheeks.

So there she was, weeks later, still haunted by their comments and busting her ass to bring the house up to neighborhood standards. Julia threw a few more pulled weeds into a nearby bucket before wiping the sweat from her brow again and making her way to the porch for her wine – a Moscato, her favorite. Her youngest, Brice, was eleven months old and he had mercifully stopped breastfeeding on his own. She could drink and eat whatever she wanted without worrying about passing toxins on to one of the kids. Including her other child, Alexis, she’d been pregnant or breastfeeding for the past five years. The guilt-free indulgence of a sweet wine while the kids entertained themselves in the little pen she’d set up in the shade from the willow was like heaven on Earth.

As she sat on the front steps and sipped her lukewarm wine, Julia noticed a white minivan parked on the other side of the road. A man and a woman sat in the front seat talking. The couple, she assumed they were a couple based on their body language, would frequently pause mid-conversation and then glance towards her. Crap. They’re probably going to fine us for not painting our shutters to match our door, Julia fretted. She was about to call for James to come out when the driver and passenger emerged revealing two small kids of their own strapped into the backseat: a girl about the same age as Alexis and another little girl that looked just a tad bit smaller than Brice. But then Brice was giant for his age, so it was hard to compare other babies or toddlers to him to gauge age.

“Hi,” the woman called out as she checked for cars before making her way over to Julia. The woman was wearing cut-off jean shorts and a light pink tank top. If she was the mother of the baby, she had already lost every ounce of her baby weight. She had long blonde hair pulled back into a stylish ponytail with some of her hair twisted and wrapped around the hair tie to hide it. Julia searched her memory for who this woman was. They had just moved into the area and had met different neighbors almost daily. She panicked as she tried to come up with a name for this woman she couldn’t remember meeting. That happened a lot with Julia, she was terrible at placing names and faces.

“Hi,” Julia responded with a bit of caution.

“Am I interrupting?” the woman asked as she motioned towards Julia’s dirty gloved hands and sweaty outfit.

Julia’s cheeks reddened as she took in the stark contrast of her disheveled self against the well-groomed family that was materializing, seemingly from nowhere. “No. We haven’t gotten around to hiring a gardener yet, so I’m pulling a few weeds myself while the kids get some fresh air,” Julia answered as she pointed to the bucket of pulled weeds sitting off to the side. “For every five weeds I pull out I get a pull of wine. Should probably be drinking water on a hot day like today, but it’s not nearly as rewarding.”

She and James had no intentions of hiring a gardener. But that’s the effect the neighborhood was having on her. She felt on guard at all times to say the right thing and not draw too much attention to herself or her family. To not look too poor.

“No judgment here. I have a bottle waiting for me at home.” The woman’s husband had been tasked with wrangling the kids from their car seats. After a slight issue with a tangled strap, he approached the women with the toddler on his right and the littlest one in his arms. “I’m Lindsay, this is my husband Denny, and our daughters Liv and Hailey.” Denny, a tall, lean man in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, with a full head of dark brown hair, and Liv, a small girl with pink bows in her curly blonde hair, waved as Lindsay introduced them. Hailey absently smacked Denny’s face with her chubby little hands while blowing raspberries towards no one in particular. “We did a walk-through yesterday at 725,” Lindsay pointed to Julia’s neighbor’s house which had been on the market for a few days, “and we stopped by again today to get one more look at the house from the outside. We saw you here and couldn’t help but get out and hopefully ask you a few questions. Do you have time to chat?”

Julia was positively giddy at the idea of the picture-perfect family standing before her moving in next door. Her current neighbor had three teenage boys who smoked cigarettes (and sometimes weed) on the side of the house and played loud music as they sped out of the driveway. This young family would be a welcome and much-needed change.

“Sure. Do you want to come in for a drink? We have some toys and things for the kids to play with while we talk. Don’t worry, everything is already baby-proofed.”

“That would be amazing. It’s so hot outside and the kids are sick of driving around and looking at houses. They’d love to have a little playdate with other kids. Well, Liv would. Hailey’s too young to care one way or the other.”

“I’m Julia Herrick. My husband, James, is inside somewhere and my two littles here are Alexis and Brice.” Julia walked over to the pen to let Alexis out and pick up Brice to head inside. “How old are your kids?” Julia asked as she held the door open for everyone to enter the house. “They look about the same age as mine.”

“They do,” Denny agreed, grinning ear to ear. “Liv will be four in November and Hailey will be one next month.”

“Get out! Alexis just turned four and Brice turns one next month, too. His birthday’s August fifteenth. When’s Hailey’s?”

“August twelfth,” Lindsay said. “How cute. Just a few days apart. Denny, we have to buy that house.” Lindsay was holding Denny’s one free hand in both of hers as she pleaded with both her words and her stunning blue eyes. “Look at our kids playing.” Alexis had taken Liv’s hand and walked her over to the living room to show Liv her stuffed animal collection.

Julia put a hand over her heart and said, “That’s the sweetest thing ever. Yes, please move in next door.” As if they’d been friends for years, Julia and Denny both set the babies in the playpen set up in the living room. As she returned to the kitchen to get a wine glass she continued, “Our kids will be best friends; our youngest kids could get married,” Julia gushed. Denny and Lindsay each took a seat at the island.

Hearing muffled, unfamiliar voices, James entered the kitchen from the garage with a slight look of apprehension, and said, “Who is our not-even-one-year-old going to marry?” He had a stockier build than Denny though it was all muscle. His dirty blonde hair was cut in a neat crew cut and he wore a white T-shirt with jeans and a tool belt around his waist.

Julia began introductions: “This is Lindsay and Denny…”

“Moore,” Denny added.

“Moore. They’re interested in buying the Smiths’ house. Look how cute our kids are; they already play so well together.” James looked over at the kids in the living room. The two youngest were merely co-existing in the pen while the older ones each had a doll and had their backs turned away from each other to play independently.

“Mmmm,” James gave in a noncommittal agreement. “Cute.” He turned back to the Moores. “I’m James, nice to meet you. Please excuse my appearance. I’m trying to fix all of the colossal mistakes the previous owners here made.”

Julia cut in before James could tear down their house again, something he was apt to do ever since they moved in. “Denny, do you want a glass of wine? We also have beer.”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

Assuming she wanted some, Julia poured Lindsay a glass of wine. Since it was clear their company was staying a while, James went to the sink to wash carpenter’s glue off his hands before taking a seat at the island next to Denny. Julia could tell he wasn’t pleased to have unexpected company in the house while they were in the middle of so many home improvement projects, but he also believed in good manners. Despite the show he was putting on for their company, she needed to brace herself for the argument they would have as soon as the Moores left.

“Thank you,” Lindsay said as she received her glass of wine from Julia. “So, tell me all about the neighborhood. Where is Alexis going for Pre-K?”

An hour later the women had exchanged numbers and Julia walked the Moores back out to their car. She’d been so excited at the idea of new neighbors she’d forgotten about James’s foul mood earlier. James had not forgotten. When she opened the door to go back inside, he was standing in the kitchen with his arms across his chest.

“You have got to be kidding me, Jules,” James said as soon as the front door was closed. His voice dripped with exhaustion, as if he’d been slowly losing energy the past hour trying to keep his annoyance in check. “Bringing complete strangers into the house for drinks and practically planning out our kids’ future with them? What were you thinking? Who knows if they’re even interested in buying the Smiths’ house? They may have been scoping out our house and our family. They could be leaders of a human trafficking ring and you had wine with them and exchanged numbers, birthdays, preschool information. Did you slip them our social security numbers, too, just for good measure?”

“Human trafficking? James, please. Not tonight. I need to start making dinner. I didn’t realize how late it is.” Julia put on an episode of Dora the Explorer for Alexis and Brice before washing her hands and pulling out various pans and ingredients.

“You don’t know what kind of people they are. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but you’re not good at reading people. In all honesty, you’re the worst I’ve ever seen.” Julia pointed to her chest and gave a mock look of surprise to James as if she hadn’t heard a version of his you-need-to-be-more-careful speech a dozen times already.

“I’m serious, Julia. You’re too trusting. Always believing the best in everyone. I know it helps you feel good to think the world isn’t a shitty and scary place, but it is. Regardless of whether or not you accept it.”

“Fine,” Julia conceded. “If this all goes to shit, feel free to shove it back in my face how you tried to warn me how hopelessly trusting and naïve I am. But don’t hold your breath. That was my new best friend who just left. And, contrary to your opinion, I’m an excellent judge of character. I married you, right?” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and then turned to make her way back to the oven.

She stopped short when he grabbed her arm, turned her back to face him, and pulled her in for an embrace. He kept his arms around her waist and gave her a long look of concern. “I’m not trying to be a dick, and I’m sure they’re fine people who may or may not actually put an offer in on the house.” He paused to find the right words. “I’m worried about you. Remember how you latched onto Carla when we first moved into the townhouse? You were up all night dreaming up potential vacations and trips for our families. And then you were devastated when she moved away a few months later.” He tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Carla had lived across the street from their old house. Coincidentally, Julia first met Carla when Carla was out weeding with a glass of wine. They weren’t immediate best friends, but Julia was relieved to have a strong friendship in the neighborhood. It was lonely having no company outside of a husband and one or two small children. Having an adult nearby to talk and laugh with had saved her sanity on more than one occasion. While she may not have been devastated, per se, when Carla moved away, she did have some serious concerns about her mental health once her friend left.

“This isn’t like that,” Julia replied. “Lindsay is different; I can tell.”