The Perfect Neighbors Read Online Free PDF Page A

worst. Tessa would blearily look around at the cluttered kitchen, at the bottles she needed to wash, at the clothes she needed to launder and fold, at the counters she should declutter, and feel herself sliding into a gray gloom. She’d always been organized; she’d worked as an accountant. She’d untangled complicated taxes for clients, she’d unloaded the dishwasher with one hand while cooking a stir-fry with the other, she’d effortlessly kept a running mental to-do list with a dozen revolving items. She’d run three half-marathons! But she couldn’t manage one tiny baby and her house, even with—and here was the truly embarrassing part—monthly maid service. Sometimes Tessa felt like her cleaning woman, who was middle-aged and had four kids, was judging her as she lugged the vacuum cleaner up the stairs and emptied Tessa’s overflowing trash cans: Get it together, lady.
    So on that rainy, stuffy afternoon, things were blurry. Sixty to ninety seconds? It seemed like the limit on how long a conscientious mother—a good mother—would leave her baby alone.
    It was quiet when Tessa had come back downstairs. Bree was exactly where Tessa had left her, playing with wooden stacking blocks, chosen because they were made with natural materials and nontoxic paints and were too big to be choking hazards.
    Bree had been making a funny face. Her mouth had been twisting like it sometimes did when Tessa tried to spoon in pureed green vegetables. Tessa had come closer and seen her purse lying next to Bree instead of on the chair where she’d left it, its contents spilled out. Her hairbrush. Her wallet. Thebottle of Advil, with a few of its tiny mauve pills dotting the carpet.
    Advil, with its sweet coating.
    Bree had been reaching for a pill on the carpet. Tessa had pried it out of her tiny hand and Bree had opened her mouth to scream.
    Bree’s tiny tongue had been stained mauve.
    â€œNo,” Tessa had whispered. She’d run to the phone to dial the emergency number.
    â€œSend an ambulance!” she’d gasped.
    The ensuing minutes blurred by: the frantic trip to the hospital, punctuated by the laconic wail of the ambulance’s siren, the EMTs bending over Bree’s tiny body, taking her vitals, the young doctor shining a light into Bree’s eyes while quizzing Tessa.
    â€œYou don’t know how many she took? Didn’t you check the bottle to see how many were left?” he’d asked.
    â€œNo, but the EMTs said I should bring it so you could check the ingredients . . . ,” Tessa had said.
    The doctor had snatched the little plastic bottle out of her hand. “It says it holds sixty.” He’d shaken the pills out onto the stark white hospital sheet, his index finger jabbing at each one like an accusation. “There are still fifty in there. Was it a new bottle?”
    Tessa had shaken her head. “No. I—I remember I took two right before I went upstairs. I must not have closed the lid properly.”
    â€œDid you check the floor to see if any were there?”
    â€œNo,” Tessa had whispered. “Wait—yes. There were some on the carpet.”
    â€œHow many?” the doctor had demanded.
    Tessa had closed her eyes. “Um . . . five?”
    â€œSo the most she ingested was three,” the doctor had said. “Less if the bottle had already been open when you took two. Was the bottle already open?”
    Tessa had nodded, her mind feeling thick as it struggled to grasp the simple subtraction problem. “Um . . . it might have been. I think so.”
    The doctor had exhaled loudly. He had patients who needed him. He didn’t have time for this nonsense.
    â€œShe probably spit it out once she sucked off the coating; it’s pretty bitter inside,” he’d said. “I doubt she even ingested one.”
    Bree had been maybe two minutes away from having her soft little