The Mommy Group by Ramona Light EPUB & PDF

The Mommy Group by Ramona Light EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  • Status: Available for Free Download
  • Author: Ramona Light
  • Language: English
  • Genre: Occult Suspense
  • Format: PDF / EPUB
  • Size: 2 MB
  • Price: Free

I never wanted to move to this town. Now that it’s a reality, I wish I’d
been more insistent. The silence is so heavy it’s like I can hear the trees
breathing. It feels like someone is hidden just out of sight behind every
window, their intense stares burrowing deep into my soul. How can I feel so
unsafe in such a supposedly safe town?
I want to go home; only I am home. Garland, Iowa, is where I live now,
and I need to accept that. Iowa is so different from New York.

Of course, a decision as huge as moving a thousand miles across the
country always has to be mutual, and this was no different. Sylvia fell in
love with this little cul-de-sac the moment she saw it, and my argument that
it was too far away from everything we knew got a little quieter as I
watched her face light up. How could I say no when her almond-shaped
green eyes widened and she said, “Oh, Nina. It’s even more perfect than I
ever could have imagined!”?
A large moving truck with RENT-A-HAND printed on the side sits at the
end of our driveway. Two men in overalls are unloading our plasticwrapped suede couch as Maddox, our four-year-old son, watches in awe
from a safe distance. Maddox is holding an apple in his hand, his mouth
ajar as the movers shoulder the couch and slowly edge their way toward his
new home.

I can hear Sylvia inside, her sweet whistling coming to me clearly on the
cool fall breeze. The sound makes my spine tingle, and I smile despite my
melancholy.

I should be grateful. I know this, yet I can’t shake the feeling that
something is off about this place. Moving to a town as picturesque as
Garland should be a time of celebration. I need to better appreciate sharing
what Sylvia has been gleefully calling our “forever home” with the two
people I love most in the world, but something is stopping me from letting
go.

Is a place seemingly “too perfect” a reason to gripe? If it is, then I should
be ashamed. A four-bedroom Tudor-style home with an arched roof, huge,
wood-paneled double-hung windows, stone walls, and a front yard that’s
bigger than the house I grew up in should be more than enough to make
someone happy. All it does is make me feel ungrateful.

Everything here looks like the front of a postcard from the 1950s. It all
feels posed. Even the mail carrier walking by is moving a little too slowly.
A man wearing khaki shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt is mowing his
lawn across the street, even though it’s fall and there seems to be no need.
When I raise my hand and wave, he drops his eyes.

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