What could the meaning of this quarrel be? What could it be between the two men--one of whom who looked dead-on (she grimaced at the unsympathetic pun) like her dear departed Deadboy--that could cause such harsh, heated words to be exchanged? Especially since the Dinner Guest had not been in town for very long, and Consolation Husband was usually so easy to get along with?
Didn't all the other pretty married women in her development just outside of Smalltown agree that Consolation Husband was the best catch? And she, the luckiest of all the Pretty Wives? Why would he talk to a guest this way?
Don't be silly, she told herself sternly, as the whispered voices melted away, it's nothing but a disagreement left over from work, and exacerbated by a little too much Franzia-in-a-box. She knew she should have asked Consolation Husband to pick up some Ernest & Julio Gallo--friends never quarreled over a glass of their blush.
Outside of the oak, original-to-the-house pocket doors--which she had only recently painted a light, airy peach--that led into the front room where her guest and husband were, she paused to collect herself, smoothed her hair and skirt, straightened the seams in her stockings. Just as she was about to cross into the room, and before either of its occupants had had a chance to see her, she turned on her sensible-yet-sexy heel from Thom McAnn, and set off back up the stairs. She had a sudden urge to open the trapdoor to the attic and root through a very old armoire her mother had given her. There was a picture in a box of old things being forgotten, next to a box of jewelry a man who was not Consolation Husband had given her that she really thought she needed to see before going back down the stairs.
But just as she was tugging at the rope to the collapsible attic stairs in her giant walk-in closet (with a special rack just for her scarves), she heard someone enter her bedroom and she turned to see Consolation Husband framed by the recently replaced crown moudling and soft, track lighting they had both agreed to install several weeks ago.
"You never came back down, Baby, Sweetheart," he crooned.
"I was just on my way down--shall we go together?" She made no effort to conceal that she had been on her way to the attic--the exact opposite direction of the drawing room and the Dinner Guest it held.
"No need, Dinner Guest has called himself a cab." Consolation chuckled, and as he moved closer she could smell the Franzia-in-a-box on his breath, "seems he had a bit too much. Eluisa will see him out for us. That's what maids are for."
"But--" she began, "my place, as hostess, is--" She feared very much that she might never see Dinner Guest again.
"--right here, so says the host," Consolation Husband propositioned.
And, as always--as any Pretty Wife should--she gave in.
.
...to be continued...
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Disclaimer: This fiction is intended as parody only; the characters, plot, etc., are the intellectual property of its authors. This story is not in any way affiliated with the Lifetime Channel, Lifetime Television, or the Lifetime Original Movie franchise.
by: Neftzer and friends (AAB, TRVMB, JMG, KLS) (c)2003
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