Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.
Stephanie Meyer owns it all. I just like to play with her characters. And I might have enjoyed a glass of wine while writing this...
A/N: Just a little O/S that I wrote awhile back. Enjoy!
Plot Generator—Binding Blurb: In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry on keeping up with the Joneses.
Neiman Marcus. Bloomingdales. Nordstroms. Henri Bendel. Those were the statements in today's mail I noticed as I put the stack of mail down on the desk. God only knows what would be in tomorrow's mail. Yesterday, it was Pottery Barn, Williams-Sonoma and Sur la Table. Ever since Alice and I moved into the new house, she's been "making it a home", which was apparently quite expensive.
"Alice," I yelled as I walked through the house. "I'm home darlin'."
As I walked to the bar, I spied the note laying on top it:
Jazzy,
Gone shopping with Rose. Bringing dinner home.
Love you,
A.
Great. Just fuckin' great, I thought to myself. Knocking back my two fingers of scotch, I headed for the bedroom. As I shrugged out of my work clothes and changed into a pair of plaid flannel pajama pants, the house phone rang.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Yes, is this the Whitlock residence?" a burly sounding man replied back.
"Yes, it is. How may I help you?" I questioned the caller.
"We're confirming delivery for tomorrow morning of the 60" Plasma television with accompanying install of the surround sound system. I need to make sure that an adult over the age of 18 is there to receive the delivery." The delivery guy said, as I heard papers shuffle in the background.
"No, I'm sorry consider the order cancelled. We won't accept delivery." I said firmly while I rubbed the middle of my forehead.
"There is a $150 restocking fee with that, man," he said.
"Fine, bill the card that was used on the purchase as I'm the account holder," I said and explained the situation to him. He sympathized as he had a shopaholic wife as well.
Over the next hour, I called every credit card that Alice was authorized to use and arranged a much lower line of credit. Alice was going to be livid, but enough was enough. We lived better than the Jones'. In fact, they should be keeping up with the Whitlock's.
"Jazzy, I'm home!" Alice shouted as she walked through the door - with an armful of sacks slung around each wrist.
"Alice, one of those better be dinner and the others better be returnable." I said, kissing her cheek.
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
"Ally Cat, no more shopping. You've spent $46,000 on furnishing this house since we moved in - I'd like to save some money – in case we ever want to have those babies you keep talking about, darlin'." I replied back.
Alice put those big black eyes into puppy dog mode. "Can I keep this one little thing I bought? I really bought it for you."
"Aren't you mad?" I asked suspiciously.
"No," she said with a smile as she crooked her finger to follow her up the steps.
I followed her to our bedroom. She dropped all but one of the bags and closed the bathroom door behind her. Sitting on the bed waiting patiently, Alice stepped out of the bathroom wearing a soft pink babydoll nightie that did nothing to cover her breasts or her ass. Two of my three favorite things.
"Well, Jazzy?" she asked with innocent eyes.
"Oh darlin'...you're asking for it now." I said, licking my lips, moving towards her.
"Well, if I can't shop for the house anymore, than I guess we'll just have to start working on making those babies," she whispered as I moved into to kiss her.
"Darlin', I gonna take you and make you scream my name so hard that shopping will be the last thing you think about for days." I said.