Author's note: This is my first try at a Desperate Housewives fic! I'd really appreciate your comments! The ones in italic are Mary Alice's narrative.
Chapter 1 : The Definition of Normal
What do you call normal? A tired mother dealing with the latest addition to the family with a smile on her face? A wife hoping desperately for peace and stability to return to her marriage? Perhaps for you it's a divorced beauty trying to come to terms with being alone again. Or the single mother who blurts out "I love you" but somehow in her heart feels that it is hollow?
Either way, life at Wisteria Lane has its own times of normalcy and extraordinariness. You just have to know where to look, which stones to overturn, and which door to knock on to borrow some sugar.
I am sure that it is also very normal for one to see another person move into the house which he or she has inhabited before. Today, a young and happily married couple will move into the house which my husband, Paul and my son, Zach had emptied when Tragedy had struck its hammer against the concrete anvil. And the one(s) who came after them.
My friends might go out to greet them with boxes of food and kind souvenirs, perhaps offering to help them unpack. But as I watch the day begin and hear their coming, I smile, because the advantage of being where I am is this and only this: I know the truth, and I know the secrets.
But my lips are sealed.
It was another morning in Wisteria Lane, but it's not turning out the way it should be for Susan Mayer, whose every joint felt like staying put in bed. It might be helped by the fact that she had very nearly lost her newfound 'love' and had just only managed to rescue the relationship by spilling out the three magic words: I. Love. You. She laughed at it's simplicity. I. Love. You. Iloveyou. I... love... you... She sighed and stole a glance at the sleeping man by her side. "I love you, don't I?" she whispered, half-afraid that he could hear her. But Ian just muttered something about salted shamrocks and turned over the other side. Susan giggled and swatted his back gently. He wouldn't even had felt it.
For Lynette Scavo, her day always began with a scream from the baby. But lately, Penny had assumed the sleeping schedule of normal human beings. So who...? The sunlight was full in her face and she rubbed her eyes. "God, what is that?" she mumbled. Tom grabbed the covers and flung them over his head. "Tom?" she yawned and, upon seeing no movement from him, gave his shoulder a hard shake. "Tom, please? It's your turn."
Tom grunted. And that was it. Lynette sighed heavily and got up. There had to be a very good reason for such ungodly screaming.
Bree Van de Kamp, no, Bree Hodge, felt extremely odd waking up in an empty bed, knowing that the person who used to share it with her was in prison. To aid police investigations. For a murder she was positively convinced he did not have any part in. The feeling felt extremely familiar. Once again, her bed was empty. Bree sat up slowly and propped her back against her pillow, smoothing the sheet with a restrained smile before leaning against it. Then she began thinking. First, Rex. Then George. Now, Orson... Before she knew it, her bottom lip was trembling. Orson. Orson who had been such a sweet, kind, and caring husband towards her. Well, all right, there were some things that he had failed to tell her before they married and he had caused them to spill out onto the carpet of their marriage and stain it forever. Like the affair with Monique Pollier. And his... cranky mother. And Alma. Hodge. He was also a good father figure around the house. Andrew had actually learnt to behave after he had knocked some sense into him. And Danielle... well Bree had never heard any of her nubile female peers whisper 'Miss Van de Tramp' whenever they came within earshot anymore. Don't worry, Bree, she told herself with a smile. She drew a deep breath and told herself that it was a new day. She would see to it that Orson was released from the police station. On that day itself.
And she would remind Danielle to not invite Julie Mayer over, for any reason whatsoever.
Gabrielle Solis was facing an almost similar dilemma, only that her husband wasn't dead, or in the police station (he had been in prison but he had got out long since), but separated from her. Divorced. Gabrielle huffed and punched the pillow next to her, cool from inoccupation. And Bill had walked out on her. I mean, who dumps Gabrielle Solis and walks out in one piece? She folded her arms, her face hot from anger. And those damn flowers! She would find the idiot who had effectively ended her relationship with Bill and tear him up into little bits and pieces and scraps and sweep the residue up into a dustpan and empty its contents into Lynette's trashcan (possibly the filthiest of the four of them, what with baby Penny's spills and thrills).
Okay, so flowers weren't so bad, but why pink of all colours? Pink! Not man enough to be red! Gabrielle hated men who claimed that they liked her, yes, but so sorry I just can't take you out to dinner, I have a girlfriend/fiancee/wife/vengeful ex-partner. Whatever. And then they would send her pink roses as an apology. Argh! Was she that undesirable? Was she that unworthy of spending a life with?
She gritted her teeth and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her day jumpstarted. You, whoever, you are, you are so going to pay for it...
Susan padded downstairs into the kitchen in her green fluffy bunny slippers, which she had picked up last week at a garage sale in Montgomery, the town next to Fairview. Montgomery had great garage market sales. Maybe she should pay another visit there the weekend with Julie. Speaking of whom...
"Austin?"
Said teenager looked up from indulging in a bowl of Cap'n Crunch, Strawberry Flavoured. And it was Julie's favourite orange cereal bowl with the confetti hand-painted by the girl herself on it. Susan stared at him, her jaw dropping slightly. "What are you doing here? And - and where's Julie?"
"Oh, hey, Mrs. Mayer. She's in the bathroom."
"Oh," muttered Susan, still a little groggy. "Oh. What are you doing in here so early? Doesn't your Aunt Edie make you breakfast or something?" Aunt Edie. Grr.
He shrugged.
Julie Mayer emerged from the bathroom and smiled brightly at her mother. "Hey, Mom! Coffee?"
Susan sat at the kitchen counter opposite Austin and groaned. "Don't I look as if I need it?" Julie rolled her eyes and strode towards the coffee maker. While she did that, Susan grabbed the Cap'n Crunch box, peered inside and grabbed a single piece of Cap'n Crunch cracker. She bit into it and scrunched her face. "What do you youngsters see in this stuff?"
Austin shrugged again. "It's edible."
"You're the picky eater, Mom," said Julie, handing her a mug of coffee. "We eat whatever we can. Right, Austin?" she leaned over towards her boyfriend and they shared a sweet kiss. Susan groaned again. "Stop being so lovey-dovey, for God's sakes. I'm your mother! Get a room!"
Julie rolled her eyes (again) and folded her arms. "Helloo, like, I didn't say anything when you brought Mike and Ian home and made out on the couch while I was watching TV? Sheesh." She looked at her watch and tugged at Austin's arm. "We are SO gonna be late if you don't make a MOVE - "
"Okay, okay!" he dropped the spoon into the unfinished bowl of Cap'n Crunch and grabbed his backpack, which had been resting on the floor. "Go easy on the guy okay?"
"Like, whatever," said Julie as she dragged him towards the door. "Bye, Mom! See you after school!"
"Bye! And be safe!"
"I'll be taking care of her, Mrs. Mayer," said Austin, winking at Susan. Then they both disappeared through the front door. A whimper escaped Susan's lips again as she took a sip out of her coffee.
"Hello, Susie," came Ian's voice as it was his turn to enter the kitchen. He dropped a kiss on her hair. "What's eating you?"
She sighed. "I'm just, well, I don't know. I guess it's the weird vibes I get from seeing my daughter kissing another guy. I mean," she whipped around in her seat to face him, "it is completely normal, right? They all grow up some day, and, and this is just the first step right?"
Ian arched one eyebrow. "Right."
Susan sighed worriedly and sipped her coffee. "Oh, what do you know about it? You don't have a kid. You don't have a kid whose hormones are doing more of the thinking than the brain. You don't have a - "
"Actually," he cut in, gently taking the mug out of her hands and setting it on the counter. "I have something to tell you."
The scream was high-pitched, thrilled, and, as Lynette realised it, sounded just like Kayla.
"Oh, my God," she said to herself as she approached her room. The door was slightly ajar, and there were shadows moving about in the room. Immediately rid of all traces of sleep, Lynette rushed into Kayla's room, nearly kicking the door wide open. "Kayla?"
What she found in her room was nothing that she had ever expected. Her own kids, her own boys, were each grabbing a good portion of Kayla's hair and pulling it in three different directions. Kayla screamed and screamed as she clutched at her head. "Stop it! Stop it!" she yelled. She tried pulling herself away from their angry grasp, but the more she did so, the more pain she felt, so she had to remain there on her bed, helpless.
"Die, she-devil, die!"
"You deserve it!!"
"Yarrrrggh!!!"
"BOYS!" yelled Lynette. "BOYS! What are you doing?"
All at once, Preston, Porter, and Parker let go of Kayla's hair and took a few frightened steps back. Kayla's hands covered her head and she dropped onto the covers, whimpering and weeping. Lynette glared at her sons as she rushed towards the girl and cradled her in her arms. "Sssh, sssh... it's okay now, sweetie. I'm here. I am so, so sorry. I didn't - I mean - are you okay? Would you like anything - "
"NO!!! I HATE YOU!! I HATE ALL OF YOU!!" screamed Kayla again as she wriggled out of Lynette's arms and dashed out of the room and into the hallway closet, slamming the door behind her with a bang so loud, Tom couldn't have missed it. Lynette sighed wearily, her hand going to her own head. Then something struck her and she slowly glared at the boys. They twisted their fingers and their mouths twitched, a sure sign of guilt.
"What have you done to Kayla?"
"But Mom!" said Porter, his eyes wide with fear.
"Why did you do that to your own sister?" Lynette was reaching near-eruption.
"She's not our sister!" said Preston indignantly.
"She's your father's daughter!" shouted Lynette. "And that makes her your sister! Now you'd better get that stuck firmly in your head because she is going - "
"But she broke Nellie's arm!" said Parker, his face scrunched up in near weeping mode. "She broke it and there was blood over it and then she threw it away! That wasn't fair because your grandma gave it to you and - and you told her to take good care of it but she didn't."
"She has to die, Mom!" shouted Preston. From the hallway closet there erupted a ferocious howl. Lynette glanced helplessly between Kayla in the closet and her sons. Where did they get such ridiculous ideas? She had to talk them out of their murderous intent. Either that, or she would lose her own sanity as well.
"Okay, guys," she said in a softer tone. She put one hand on Porter's shoulder and the other on whimpering Parker and guided them gently so that they sat meekly on Kayla's bed. Using the psychological prowess that she had picked up at a parenting course, she whittled the room down to just the three of them... and her. "Look, I know this is all very hard on you. Kayla used to be the girl who visits Daddy every weekend for an hour or two, but now," she shrugged, "she's suddenly your sister. It's hard for you and I understand that. But you gotta know and understand that Kayla's just lost her mom. It's hard for her to suddenly have three brothers and another sister. So, can all of you do a favour for me and please be nice to her till - " Lynette trailed off there, suddenly at a loss for words.
"Till?" asked Porter.
"Till..." then an idea hit her. "Till she turns 18."
Preston frowned. "Then only we can kill her?"
Lynette's smile became a bit frozen. "Er..."
"I wanna break her arm off like she did to Nellie!"
"Yeah!"
"No! No, you can't do that, okay? Boys!" All three quickly jumped off the bed and ran outside the room. On their way down the stairs, each gave a smart rap on the closet door and shouted, "Kayla is going to DAI-IE!"
And from the closet: "I HATE YOU!!!"
Suddenly, Tom entered the room, still sleepy-eyed and in his sweats. "What the hell is going on? It's already 7 and if they keep this up, they're going to be late for school!"
Lynette sniffed and tucked a stray blonde lock behind one ear. "And that's my fault, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Everything's my fault, isn't it?" she glared at him. "It's my fault that Nora died, it's my fault that Kayla's unhappy, and it's - it's my fault for raising such naughty, irresponsible - "
"Hey, hey, honey," said Tom gently, pulling her into a hug. She didn't resist. Lynette rested her head on his shoulder gratefully. Tears slipped out from underneath her eyelids. "It's all my fault, it's all my fault..." she murmured, pressing him closer against her. He shook his head and carressed her hair. "No, no it isn't," he said. "It isn't your fault. None of it, it's mine. It's my fault. I caused all this."
Lynette pulled away from him with a half-smile on her face. "You admit it! Oh, oh my God, thank you!" she gave him another squeeze and pecked his cheek. "Now I'm just going to, uh, dry up and, get breakfast going."
Tom gave her a weird look. "What the - "
"Oh, I almost forgot," she said before leaving the room, the half-smile fixed on her face. "Kayla shut herself in the closet. You're her dad, so maybe you could get her to come out?"
When her two children, Andrew and Danielle, had cleaned up the breakfast menu and sent off lovingly to school, Bree selected the dark turquoise suit that she usually reserved for afternoon tea at the country club with her late husband's colleagues and wives, smoothed her luxurious red hair and perfected the little bob at her shoulders and clasped on her mother's timeless pearl necklace with matching earrings. Then she applied an adequate amount of make-up, got into her Volvo, mustered all her dignity and drove to the only police station in Fairview. She ignored the curious glances she received from the officers on duty, knowing full well that they knew that this was not her first time in the police station. She returned their curiosity with a gracious smile.
"Good morning to you," she said to the female officer behind the public services counter. "I'm looking for my husband. His name is Orson Hodge and he has been detained here overnight, supposedly to aid the police with their investigations, as if they haven't had all the help that they can get."
"You mean you wanna bail him out," said the young, white female officer on duty in a bored voice.
Her sweet smile became fixed on her face. "I'm sorry, I just want to talk to Detective Ridley. He's the one who arrested my husband. Who is, by the way, as innocent as a child."
"Detective Ridley's in the interrogation room," said the officer again. "Interrogating somebody. It might be your husband, or not."
Bree fought to keep the smile on her face. She won. "Well, why don't you confirm it with me, officer?"
The officer narrowed her eyes at her. "I'd love to, Ma'am, but I'm kinda busy."
Bree leaned over the counter ever so slightly and said to her in a low voice that quivered, "And do you think I have nothing better to do with my time?"
"I'm sorry, but I really - "
"You will tell me where my husband is right now or I swear I will..."
"Ma'am, please calm down."
"I can't calm down!" Somehow, the polite smile was still stuck on her face. "I can't walk out of the police station without him. I need him by my side when I get home. I need to be able to tell my neighbours that I'm proud to be Mrs. Hodge. I need to tell my friends that he's innocent, that he didn't have anything whatsoever to do with the murder of Monique Pollier, and that it wasn't his fault because it's enough to be accused of murdering his ex-wife and now be accused of murdering somebody else! I can't let that happen!"
The officer stared at her. "Ma'am, I'd really love to help you out, but I can't. As long as Detective Ridley doesn't give me his approval, I can't let you meet him or bail him out. If he can even be bailed."
Bree swallowed. Hard. "How much do you need?"
"Excuse me?"
"How much do you want? Because I have a checkbook that's functioning and you can just name the figure."
"Are you buying me off?"
Determination set itself in Bree's eyes. "You don't know the things I've gone through. You don't know how badly I need this one to work. I need this marriage to function and I need my husband! Is that too much to ask? And yes, I AM buying you off!"
"I'm anti-corruption, Ma'am."
"What did you say?"
"I'm saying that no matter how much money you give me I can't let your husband go. It's not in my duty to - "
"What are you talking about? Of course you can, officer! You can! You just don't want to!" Her voice rose shakily.
"I'm telling you again, Ma'am..."
Bree ignored her protest and drew out her checkbook anyway along with a fountain pen. "I want you to know that I am prepared to pay any price that needs be to secure his release."
The officer seemed to shrink back. "Ma'am, I suggest you hold it back till we find out if he can be bailed out or not."
"And by when may I be able to know that?"
"I can't offer you a certain timeline. We'll have to wait for Detective Ridley to be done interrogating him."
"I can't wait, officer, and I've already told you that," insisted Bree, trying to be as agreeable as possible despite her growing distress. "Come now, officer. How about $2500? $3000?" Bree peered at the badge attached to the officer's uniform and started writing her name on the check. "Saralee Whiteley... why what a nice name you have! Shall I write in, say, $2500? You didn't object to that earlier?" She wrote the particulars down onto the check, the amount, and put her signature down. She was about to tear the check away from the book and hand it to her when Officer Whiteley's eyes darted around furtively and she lowered her voice as she spoke to Bree. "You can get jailed for this."
Bree smiled and leaned forward. "I won't be if you don't tell anyone."
Officer Whiteley broke into a twisted smile as she locked gazes with Bree. "I will."
The smile disappeared from Bree's face as suddenly her wrists were grabbed from behind. "What? Wait! Wait! What are you doing to me?" They were handcuffing her! "No! Hold on, please! I haven't done anything yet! She didn't take the check! Wait, she is just as guilty as I am! Oh, please, please, all I want to do is to see my husband!" She glared at the Whiteley woman. "How could you?"
She shrugged. "It's a crime to even try to bribe an officer, d'you know? Don't worry, Ma'am, I'm sure you won't get more than a night in jail."
Bree bit her lip, but somehow was able to compose herself as the male officer who had handcuffed her led her further into the station and to the small cage there that stood for a prison. And she somehow found the will to hold her head high as she was put into the small cage. Bree Hodge had dignity. This was nothing she couldn't handle. And she would hold onto it until the day she took her last breath.
As the male officer locked the cage, Bree gave him an icy cool look and folded her arms. "You'll be sorry about this."
He grinned as he pocketed the keys. "Yeah, right."
Bree's jaw dropped as he walked away, shaking his head and laughing. "How rude!" She bit her lower lip again and gave a small scoff. Dignity, Bree. Dignity.
After a bowl of muesli and milk, Gabrielle changed into her jogging outfit and strapped her iPod on to her arm. She set the playlist to 'Workout' and tied the shoelaces to her Nike sneakers. Then she zipped up her bright yellow Abercrombie sweater-jacket, paired with matching bright yellow sweats, and pulled her luxurious hair into a neat ponytail. She sighed with satsifaction. It felt so good to be around branded stuff, especially when a former model like her had gotten herself thrown to the middle of nowhere.
Okay, okay, it's called Suburbia.
Gabby jogged her way out of the front gate and paid attention to nothing else but the road in front of her and the music playing in her ears, which was a pretty cute song by a group called The Ditty Bops. Of all names. But the song was great. Gabby had first heard it in a TV show and had commissioned Susan's sweet daughter, Julie, to find out about it and download it for her. She sighed. What wouldn't she give to have a kid as great as Julie... but wait, she didn't want any kid in the first place, did she? Gabby had nearly changed her mind, but after the whole Xiao Mei fiasco, she decided that parenting wasn't for her. Nuh-uh.
Now she had to direct her attention to the pressing matter at hand. She had to find out who the 'pink-roses-jackass' was. Could it be anyone from Wisteria Lane? Gabby's eyes strayed to Tom Scavo, who was struggling with two big bags of trash down the driveway. "Hey, Gabby!" he called out to her with a grin.
"Hey there, Tom!" she waved without stopping. Tom was nice, but he was married. Lucky Lynette.
Then she saw Andrew Van de Kamp with another big bag of trash. Why was she seeing people with trash bags this morning? I mean, do people throw trash out in the mornings nowadays? Wasn't it at night? His eyes met hers and he smiled tentatively. She smiled back in return. Okay. Not him. Not possibly him. She heard that he was gay. Poor Bree.
Next she came across Ian, Susan's new boyfriend, kissing Susan goodbye before getting into his car. Now that was one guy that Gabby would like to know where Susan had snagged him. He was a good guy, much in the vein of Tom, but he was British. Gabby had come across some of them during her modeling days and found them (especially the party planners) to be so stuffy and full of hot gas. But during the brief space of time that she had known him, Ian had proved to be different. Okay, so he had a butler. Big deal, but so typically British.
After passing by Susan's house, Gabby encountered the newest happy couple to hit Wisteria Lane. Susan's sweet Julie and Edie's nephew. She couldn't remember his name. And they were walking to school. And they were holding hands. How cute! "Hi there, Julie!" she chirped. Julie waved excitedly at her. "Hi, Mrs. Solis!"
Gabby's smile faded a bit. "It's Miss, now."
Julie winced. "Oh my God, I - I'm so sorry."
"Nah, it's okay! Hello to you too," she said to her boyfriend.
He smiled briefly but quickly turned his gaze somewhere else. Gabby frowned, but she let it pass. "So, Julie, I, er - send my regards to your Mom, okay? Have a great day!"
"You too!"
Gabby quickened her pace. Okay, that had been awkward, especially with Edie's nephew. She had heard all kinds of news about him... she had even heard that he was a drug addict! But if it were true, then she didn't think that Julie would have gotten involved with him.
But she remembered Bree and her previous boyfriend, George Williams the creepy pharmacist. Anything could happen.
Suddenly, she spotted a moving van. Parked right outside what used to be Mary Alice's house. All thoughts of kids and pink-roses-jackass side flew out the window as she removed her earphones and approached the house. First, the crazy paedophile (who Gabby had even considered cute! Sigh...). Now what weird freak would be added to the Wisteria Lane circus this time? Gabby refrained a giggle at the thought.
A woman with the most beautiful chocolate brown tresses wearing (unfortunately) a fit T-shirt and faded jeans came walking out from the front door of Mary Alice's - what used to be Mary Alice's - house. She gave some curt instructions to the movers and walked down the garden pathway towards the front gate, the path that Gabby had seen Mary Alice do so many times. Her heart ached with the memory of Mary Alice. How long had it been since she had been gone? It had seemed years, almost decades. If only Mary Alice knew what had happened to her family after her death, what happened to her friends, what happened to her neighbours, what happened to the whole of Wisteria Lane.
If only...
"Hi there!" Gabby jumped a little. The woman with the beautiful hair had greeted her with a friendly wave and an equally beautiful smile.
"Hi!" said Gabby in return with a smile and she made a move towards the new arrival. "How are you? I'm Gabrielle - " she hesitated, almost adding 'Solis' as if she was still married to Carlos. "Just call me Gabby," she said instead.
"Very nice to meet you!" she held out a hand and smiled warmly. "I'm Lisa Miller." Then a tall, lean man with tousled blonde hair emerged from the front door. Gabby saw him first, and she immediately felt her heart skip a beat. He looked around spotted them. He broke into a very steal-a-woman's-breath-away grin and waved in her direction. Her! Gabrielle! She smiled her best, most charismatic smile and waved flirtatiously back. Then Gabby noticed that Lisa was also waving back. And that he wasn't exactly looking at her, Gabrielle. She felt her face go slightly red and lowered her hand at once.
"That," said Lisa to Gabby, her face positively radiant, "is my husband, James."
Gabby's smile became a little fixed. All she could say was, "Oh?"
Reviews, as always, much appreciated!
