At This Book Club, the Truth Is About to Come Out. It’s Not Pretty. - The New York Times

In “The Neighbor’s Secret,” L. Alison Heller gives us a dishy tale of nosy neighbors, mysterious vandalism, family shame — and murder.

Welcome to Group Text, a monthly column for readers and book clubs about the novels, memoirs and short-story collections that make you want to talk, ask questions and dwell in another world for a little bit longer.

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In the close-knit community of Cottonwood Estates, three women have skeletons in their closets that can no longer be contained or ignored. Some of their secrets are mildly worrisome; others are deadly.

Ever wonder what goes on behind closed doors? Welcome to this neighborhood-wide open house with a convivial host who makes you think about what you’re hiding — and why.

My sister recently noted, in a somewhat snippy tone, that she tends to avoid books about women in our stage of life. This is the phase where strangers no longer address us as “miss” or (cringe) “mom”; we’re “ma’am” or simply invisible. We are now the ages of women in detergent commercials.

I’ll be the first to admit: Midlife can be depressing territory in the hands of the wrong author, but it also has the potential to inspire stories of unexpected freedom and next-level friendship. L. Alison Heller hits these notes in her witty, hyperlocal mystery, THE NEIGHBOR’S SECRET (Flatiron, 336 pp., $27.99), which follows a suburban book club through a year of travails in a sleepy subdivision.

The novel begins, as many book club events do, with a bossy email. A punctuation-happy resident of Cottonwood Estates invites fellow readers to the first meeting of the year. There’s a call for themed snacks, and when the day arrives, members sip Lolita Lemondrops while chatting about Nabokov. They’re all women. “There had been a man in the group last year,” Heller writes. “But he was notably absent tonight, scared off, perhaps, by last spring’s startlingly passionate discussion of that menopause book.”

We meet Jen Chun-Pagano, whose son, Abe, has been expelled from Foothills Charter School for stabbing a classmate with an X-acto knife. And Annie Perley, whose burdens include an unambitious husband (but at least he can pull off a man bun), a 14-year-old daughter who got drunk at a community event and the indignity of having the only one-car garage in the neighborhood. And finally, there’s Lena Meeker, a wealthy widow whose backyard is home to the very tree that gave Cottonwood Estates its name. We know that Lena has something to hide, and that Annie’s connection to her goes further back (and much deeper) than she’s letting on.

The book club cycles through a grief memoir, a psychological thriller and a “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants” copycat starring mittens instead of jeans. The women organize a slew of traditional-bordering-on-oppressive gatherings and the subdivision is plagued by vandalism — smashed pumpkins, the torching of a “Thankfulness Tree” and other atrocities triggering rounds of aggrieved emails. (In real life, I would have forwarded these messages to my sister with a note saying, “Make it stop,” but I thoroughly enjoyed reading them over someone else’s shoulder.)

Tensions rise as it becomes clear that Jen, Annie and Lena are hiding more than they’re sharing, and that their brave faces will only intensify the consequences of their silence. I’m sorry to be cagey on the details, but Heller places a ticking time bomb inside each character’s house, and locating them is half the fun of this book. The other half comes from Heller’s sense of humor, which is wicked without being unkind.

You could read “The Neighbor’s Secret” as a lighthearted romp through Anyplace Affluent, U.S.A. — it has gifted children, philandering spouses, sustainably sourced playgrounds and “screen time” — but if you’re in the mood to get serious, this novel will take you down a different, more thoughtful avenue. With a light, Liane Moriarty-esque touch, Heller asks readers to consider the thin line between privacy and secrecy. One is a right to be protected and celebrated; the other is a heavy load to carry. It’s a cautionary tale with two morals: The truth comes out, whether you want it to or not. And, whether or not the youngsters agree, we do get more interesting with age.

Discussion Questions

Why do you think Jen felt so isolated by Abe’s diagnosis or lack thereof? What do you think she could have done differently where he was concerned — and did she need to be so alone?
How did your feelings about Lena evolve as events began to take shape?
What did Cottonwood Estates look like in your imagination? I pictured the neighborhood in “E.T.” crossed with the one in “Desperate Housewives.”