Chapter 17 - The Neighborhood

The morning after happy hour, Jennifer came downstairs slightly later than usual expecting an empty kitchen.

Instead Michelle sat at the island in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, nursing coffee while scrolling through emails on her phone.

“You survived your first Girl’s Night Out,” Michelle said without looking up.

Jennifer laughed softly.

“Barely.”

Michelle finally looked over and smiled.

“So?”

Jennifer poured herself coffee carefully.

“They’re a lot.”

Michelle smirked knowingly.

“That means they liked you.”

Jennifer leaned against the counter.

“I think they adopted me against my will.”

“That’s how office women work.”

Jennifer laughed quietly into her coffee.

Michelle studied her for another second.

“You know… I’m happy.”

Jennifer looked up.

“For what?”

“That you’re fitting in.”

The answer came so simply Jennifer wasn’t prepared for how hard it landed.

Michelle continued casually:

“You’re making friends. You’re getting comfortable. It’s good.”

Jennifer looked down at her mug.

Because six weeks ago the idea of “making friends” as Jennifer would have sounded horrifying.

Now it just sounded normal.

Then Michelle added:

“And apparently the cheer moms are obsessed with you.”

Jennifer groaned immediately.

“Oh my God.”

Michelle burst out laughing.

“Jill texted me three separate times about how ‘sweet and stylish’ you are.”

Jennifer covered her face with one hand.

“That woman put a bow in my hair.”

Michelle nearly spit out her coffee laughing.

“She did not.”

“She absolutely did.”

Michelle shook her head, still smiling.

While they were talking, Jennifer’s phone chimed repeatedly beside her coffee mug.

Jennifer finally looked at it and let out her own smirk.

Michelle glanced over.

“You know, for someone who makes fun of me constantly for always being on my phone…”

Jennifer looked up briefly.

“What?”

Michelle smirked.

“Your phone is blowing up.”

Another notification.

Michelle pointed immediately.

“See?”

Jennifer laughed quietly despite herself.

She said “it’s nothing” as she typed a quick reply.

Michelle narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“I doubt that.”

Two more notifications which Jennifer quickly glanced at and typed another quick reply.

Michelle sat up straighter immediately.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You’re smiling at your phone.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes.

“I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

Jennifer finally laughed.

“It’s just the admin group chat.”

Michelle blinked.

“The what?”

Jennifer hesitated just long enough to make Michelle immediately more interested.

Then quietly:

“…Boss Babes.”

Michelle stared at her for one full second.

Then burst out laughing.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Jennifer groaned.

“It wasn’t my idea.”

Michelle was still laughing.

“You are in a group chat called Boss Babes?”

Jennifer buried her face briefly in embarrassment.

“It’s just the other admins from work.”

Michelle was laughing so hard she had to wipe a tear from her eye.

“Oh my God this is the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.”

Jennifer shook her head while another notification appeared.

Michelle immediately leaned over trying to look.

“What are they even talking about?”

Jennifer reluctantly read aloud:

“They are talking about the lastest episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.”

“OMG” was all Michelle could say.

“See? Important information.”

Michelle laughed again before studying Jennifer carefully.

“You like them.”

Jennifer looked down at the phone quietly.

Because annoyingly…

she did.

The women had accepted her almost immediately.

Included her naturally.

Talked about everything in front of her - work drama, dating disasters, makeup sales, holiday plans, perimenopause.

Normal things.

Girl things.

Jennifer shrugged softly.

“They’re nice.”

Michelle smiled faintly.

“Well yeah.”

Jennifer glanced up.

Michelle leaned comfortably into the couch cushions.

“You’re easy to like, Jenn.”

That sentence lingered in Jennifer’s chest much longer than it should have.

Especially because Michelle said it so casually.

Like it was obvious.

And all of a sudden drinking coffee with Michelle while discussing cheer moms and happy hour gossip, Jennifer experienced another quiet terrifying realization:

this no longer felt like pretending.

It felt like life.

Jennifer smiled faintly into her coffee before glancing toward Michelle’s laptop.

“How’s the project going?”

Michelle immediately groaned dramatically and dropped her head back against the stool.

“We are surviving entirely on caffeine and mutual panic at this point.”

Jennifer laughed.

“That good?”

“We’re down to a week before deadline.”

Michelle rubbed tiredly beneath one eye before continuing.

“David’s basically living in his office right now.”

Jennifer noticed the way Michelle smiled slightly while saying it.

Not consciously.

Just automatically.

“He really thinks we can pull this off though,” Michelle added.

“That’s the scary part.”

Jennifer leaned against the counter.

“You think you can?”

Michelle looked up for a second.

And Jennifer saw it immediately:

the excitement.

The adrenaline.

The challenge of it.

“Honestly?” Michelle admitted quietly. “Yeah. I think we actually might.”

Jennifer smiled softly.

“Well… then I hope it works.”

Michelle held her gaze for half a second longer than expected.

Then smiled back.

“Me too.”

And Jennifer realized something uncomfortable right then:

she hadn’t seen Michelle this energized in years.

Not with Michael.

Not even close.

Jennifer hesitated for another second before casually asking:

“So… apparently David’s your work husband now.”

Michelle immediately groaned and covered her face with one hand.

“Oh my God.”

“The admins think that?”

Jennifer nodded carefully.

Michelle shook her head while laughing softly into her coffee.

“I swear office women turn absolutely everything into a relationship.”

Jennifer smiled faintly.

“So you’ve heard it before.”

“Oh constantly.”

Michelle took another sip of coffee before continuing casually:

“When you spend fourteen hours a day trapped in conference rooms with somebody, people start creating their own entertainment.”

Jennifer nodded slowly.

Michelle smirked slightly.

“Besides, if David actually was my work husband, I’d at least expect him to stop blowing up my phone at midnight over font sizes.”

Jennifer laughed.

But Michelle never actually denied it.

She just redirected it.

Softened it.

Made it sound harmless.

And somehow that unsettled Jennifer more.

Because while Michelle joked casually about it, Jennifer still noticed something underneath all of it:

Michelle looked happier talking about David than she had talking about almost anything in years.

And that realization lingered quietly with Jennifer long after Michelle left for the office and Jennifer headed to her weekly salon appointment.

—-

Early the next morning what has become the new normal Sunday morning chaos had returned to the house.

Hair spray.

Curling iron.

Stanley cups.

Jennifer stood in the kitchen wearing leggings and one of the oversized cheer sweatshirts Jill had dropped off for Jennifer earlier in the week.

Off-the-shoulder.

Wide neck.

Soft oversized fit.

Exactly like the other cheer moms wore.

She was thankful Michelle had talked her into buying a strapless bra a few weeks ago.

Jennifer still wasn’t entirely convinced she could pull it off.

“You have to wear it like this,” Sophie insisted while tugging one side lower off Jennifer’s shoulder.

Jennifer laughed nervously.

“I look ridiculous.”

“You literally look like every other cheer mom.”

“That’s the concerning part.”

Sophie rolled her eyes dramatically before climbing onto a stool behind Jennifer holding a brush.

“Sit still.”

Jennifer froze slightly.

“What are you doing?”

“Your ponytail.”

Jennifer blinked.

“My what?”

Sophie sighed like Jennifer was being difficult on purpose.

“You can’t wear the sweatshirt with your hair down. None of the moms do.”

Jennifer opened her mouth to argue.

Then closed it again.

Because somehow this had become normal now too.

So Jennifer sat quietly while Sophie brushed her blonde hair upward into a high ponytail with practiced efficiency.

“You’re weirdly good at this,” Jennifer muttered.

A few seconds later Sophie held up one of the enormous navy-and-silver bows.

Jennifer immediately groaned.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Sophie—”

“You have to match.”

Jennifer laughed helplessly.

“This thing is the size of a small animal.”

“Exactly.”

Then before Jennifer could protest again, Sophie clipped the oversized bow neatly beneath the ponytail.

“There.”

Jennifer stared at herself in the kitchen window reflection.

High ponytail.

Big bow.

Oversized off-the-shoulder sweatshirt.

Glossed lips.

Heart earrings.

Completely, terrifyingly believable.

Right then Michelle walked into the kitchen dressed flawlessly for work.

Tailored cream blouse.

Black pants.

Heels.

Coffee in hand.

She stopped dead.

Jennifer immediately pointed accusingly at Sophie.

“This was not my idea.”

Michelle just stared for a second.

Then slowly smiled.

“Oh my God.”

“Sophie **** me into the bow again.”

Michelle laughed softly.

“You two are ridiculous.”

Sophie grinned proudly.

“She looks cute.”

Jennifer groaned.

“Don’t encourage this.”

But Michelle was already pulling out her phone.

“Nope. Stay exactly like that.”

Jennifer immediately covered her face.

“Michelle—”

“Too late.”

Sophie grabbed Jennifer’s arm laughing while Michelle backed toward the island trying to frame the shot.

“Okay, pose.”

“We are not posing.”

“Yes you are,” Michelle said.

A second later Sophie leaned against Jennifer smiling brightly while Jennifer stood there red-faced and helpless in her oversized cheer mom sweatshirt and giant bow.

The camera clicked.

Michelle looked down at the screen afterward and immediately softened.

For just a second her entire expression changed.

Warm.

Emotional.

Almost startled.

“What?” Jennifer asked nervously.

Michelle shook her head slightly.

“Nothing.”

But she kept staring at the picture another second longer before quietly saving it.

Jennifer didn’t notice later that afternoon when Michelle changed her phone wallpaper to the photo of Jennifer and Sophie smiling together in the kitchen.

—

Michelle was home less than ever.

The project with David had fully consumed her life now.

Late nights.

Weekend meetings.

Conference calls at dinner, if she was home for dinner.

Texts arriving constantly at all hours.

Ironically, Michelle’s absence made Jennifer stronger.

Not emotionally.

Functionally.

There was nobody hovering anymore.

Nobody reminding her what to do next.

Jennifer simply moved through life now handling things automatically.

She answered the door.

Signed for packages.

Talked to neighbors.

Handled phone calls.

Texted other moms.

Scheduled things.

Adapted.

By this time, Jennifer sometimes went entire stretches of the day without consciously thinking about Michael at all.

That realization hit hardest at random moments.

Like realizing she no longer mentally adjusted her voice before speaking.

Or noticing she naturally checked lipstick after meals now.

Or realizing she’d started carrying herself differently even alone.

Smaller movements.

Crossed ankles.

Smoother posture.

Permanent habits now.

—

The neighborhood increasingly treated Jennifer like she had always belonged there.

That part felt surreal.

One Saturday afternoon Jennifer was walking Sophie to a team fundraiser downtown while Michelle worked another weekend with David.

Halfway down the block another cheer mom waved excitedly.

“Jennifer!”

Jennifer turned automatically now when hearing the name.

No hesitation anymore.

The woman immediately fell into conversation beside her naturally.

Cheer schedules.

School drama.

Holiday plans.

At one point she casually touched Jennifer’s arm while laughing at some story.

The interaction was completely ordinary.

Which made it horrifying.

Because Michael used to live here too.

And apparently nobody saw even a trace of him anymore.

—

Jennifer increasingly existed inside the social world Michelle used to occupy alone.

That accelerated everything.

The moms texted her directly now.

Included her automatically.

One afternoon Jennifer found herself standing in someone’s kitchen drinking coffee while the women discussed marriage problems and Botox appointments around her.

Nobody questioned her presence.

Nobody looked twice.

At one point someone asked Jennifer where she got her highlights done.

Jennifer answered automatically.

“Kathy’s salon.”

Natural.

Effortless.

Real.

Jennifer barely recognized herself afterward.

—

Sophie adapted fastest of all.

By week six she simply assumed Jennifer would be there.

Cheer pickups.

Homework help.

Target runs.

Movie nights.

Late-night conversations.

Sometimes Sophie wandered into Jennifer’s room without knocking anymore.

One evening she flopped dramatically onto Jennifer’s bed.

“I swear every boy in sophomore year is clinically stupid.”

Jennifer laughed despite herself.

“That bad?”

“You have no idea.”

Then Sophie spent twenty straight minutes dissecting teenage relationship drama while Jennifer listened quietly beside her.

At one point Sophie stopped suddenly.

“What?”

Jennifer smiled softly.

“Nothing.”

“You’re doing the face again.”

“What face?”

“The mom face.”

Jennifer froze.

Sophie didn’t notice.

She was already back on her phone.

But Jennifer sat very still afterward.

Because Sophie had said it casually.

Naturally.

Without irony.

And Jennifer realized with sudden painful clarity that Sophie no longer interacted with her like a guest in the house.

Jennifer had quietly become part of her emotional routine.

—

The commuter buses became routine too.

Jennifer varied schedules intentionally now.

Different times - different crowds.

Mostly to avoid running into anyone connected to Michael.

Most of the time it worked.

Then one Thursday happened.

David needed revisions printed and rescanned late in day evening, forcing Jennifer onto the later bus again.

The second she boarded the crowded bus, Jennifer knew.

Wrong bus.

Wrong time.

Sure enough, five minutes later:

“Well hey stranger.”

Jennifer looked up and immediately saw Tom Mitchell smiling down at her.

Her stomach tightened automatically.

Tom slid into the seat beside her with a tired sigh.

“Thought you disappeared.”

Jennifer **** a small smile.

“Just taking earlier buses lately.”

Tom nodded.

“Smart honestly. These later ones are brutal.”

Jennifer laughed softly.

Rain tapped steadily against the windows while the bus slowly pulled away from Port Authority.

Tom loosened his tie slightly before glancing sideways at her.

“So how do you know Kathy and Michelle anyway?”

Jennifer’s pulse spiked instantly.

Careful.

“Kathy is actually my aunt,” Jennifer answered smoothly.

Tom nodded immediately.

“Okay, that makes sense.”

Jennifer stayed quiet.

Then Tom added casually:

“I saw you get into Kathy’s car a few weeks ago after the bus one night.”

Jennifer’s stomach twisted.

Of course he had.

Tom continued easily.

“I was like, wait… how does this pretty blonde woman know Kathy?”

Jennifer **** herself to laugh lightly.

“Well now you know.”

Tom smiled.

“So you know Michael too then?”

Jennifer stared toward the darkened window.

“Yeah.”

Tom settled deeper into the seat.

“Haven’t seen him around in forever.”

Jennifer kept her voice careful.

“He’s helping family in California.”

“That’s what I heard.”

Tom nodded slowly.

“Honestly, neighborhood’s been talking a little.”

Jennifer’s chest tightened.

Not because Tom sounded suspicious.

Because he sounded normal.

Curious.

Casual.

The exact way suburban neighbors always discussed each other.

Jennifer kept her tone light.

“Oh yeah?”

Tom shrugged.

“You know how people are.”

Then after a pause:

“I heard things between him and Michelle weren’t great before he left.”

Jennifer looked down at her hands folded neatly atop her purse.

Meanwhile Tom discussed Michael like:

* another husband,

* another neighbor,

* someone Jennifer merely knew through family.

The disconnect felt almost physically painful.

Tom glanced sideways again.

“Michelle doing okay?”

Jennifer answered automatically.

“She’s busy with work.”

Tom gave a knowing laugh.

“She always was ambitious.”

Jennifer smiled faintly.

“Yeah.”

The conversation drifted naturally after that.

What type of work did she do.

Neighborhood gossip.

Property taxes.

Completely ordinary conversation.

And the entire time Tom never once looked at Jennifer like he recognized anything familiar about her.

Not her posture.

Not her voice.

Not her mannerisms.

Nothing.

That realization disturbed Jennifer far more than suspicion would have.

—

Near the tunnel traffic slowed badly.

Tom shifted wider unconsciously, knees spreading comfortably into the shared space.

Jennifer immediately folded inward toward the window automatically.

Not performative anymore.

Instinctive.

Tom barely noticed.

Jennifer did.

That unsettled her too.

Because Jennifer now understood things Michael never fully noticed before.

The constant subconscious calculations women made around men.

The constant subconscious calculations women made around men.

Space.

Positioning.

Exit paths.

Safety.

Jennifer understood all of it intimately now.

—

When the bus finally reached New Jersey, Tom stood and grabbed his bag.

Then casually:

“Tell Michael if he comes back east we should grab drinks.”

Jennifer smiled automatically.

“I will.”

The lie barely even felt like lying anymore.

Tom disappeared into the crowd.

Jennifer stayed seated several extra seconds afterward staring at her reflection in the dark glass.

Not checking makeup.

Not checking hair.

Just staring.

Because by week six, Michael no longer felt like the person moving through these spaces.

Jennifer did.