As you approach the door of the Scavo residence, you may be surprised not to hear pure silence from the house. None at all. Not like all the other neighbours who have their children under control, or are just a quiet couple. That wasn't the Scavos; quiet. You could tell by just listening what was going on in that house; Lynette was on the phone, this very minute, yelling at her boys and fixing up the messy house they left for her. Finding a babysitter was very hard for Lynette, especially with a title of 'The Mother of the Awful Three'. Tom Scavo, Lynette's loving husband (she'd definately disagree to that right now) was at work, getting the money as Lynette tamed the lions. He wouldn't even come home to babysit, not even for Georgia, their baby.
Lynette, of course, was running around the kitchen and lounge just to clean up the small messes her sons left, but they had large impacts on her. She needed a break, desperately, or she was going to explode. "Oh come on please Erica! They love you, they always say they have fun." Lynette was on the phone organising for a sixteen year old to come babysit for her, so she'd get out of the house and have some 'Lynette-Time'. "Please. Fine, how much? What! I'm not a bank Erica, fine $25 per hour. Yes I agree that they are a handful, hello I am their mother! Thank you so much Erica, you are a life saver." Lynette hung the phone up by pressing a button. She'd gotten a babysitter, finally!
"OY! LEAVE THE FLOWERS ALONE PRESTON!" She chased her boys. All she had to do was figure out what she'd do in her spare time. Go over to a neighbours? Go out shopping? She hadn't gone shopping over a month for herself, and she knew her money was building up in her wallet.
Lynette was the kind of woman who would prefer to work than raise her boys 24/7. She needed a break, a life for once. She was sick of Tom coming home late and never saying 'Yes' to spending a little extra quality time with the boys and Georgia. To be completely honest, Lynette's job brought the most money home, and she was a very determined woman that she needed something other than her annoying little pests to keep occupied with. She was bored. Just plain bored with the stress and her children being pains. She knew they took after Tom, that is who she'd blame their bad side on.
Lynette kept running around wildly, yelling at her boys for most of her day. She needed a new environment, new people, new kids. This was her basic routine, and she kept it up all day and all month, all her life if you wanted to be dramatic. Lynette needed something more, she needed to go out and try new things. And that was what she was going to plan in her free time, her free time.
Over across the street, a woman of perfection and of an "old" sense of mind, Bree Van De Kamp had the best lawn, the best house and the most cleanest interior that anyone could ever stare at. The woman was a clean machine, an "old fashioned" woman. She was perfect. She could've replaced Nicole Kidman in 'The Stepford Wives' and not even have to be transformed into a robotic wife to do all the household chores, and weighing hand on foot for Rex. Rex could've been Matthew Broderick, living in paradise, Stepford. But they lived in Wisteria Lane, a street full of many secrets this year, and many new faces appearing every so often.
The street wasn't boring, not at all. You'd be considered lucky to live in a street that has suicides and murders and just plain secrets being whispered all over the place. This was one of the most fascinating streets after Sesame Street (the children's program). Though they didn't have puppets or Elmo, but they had the mischief vibe, and many of the weird things happening. Bree also contributed to the secrecy, ecspecially with the cheating Rex had accomplished.
"Danielle, honey, you left your homework on the kitchen table incompleted." Bree walked up the hall to her daughter's room. She knocked and waited for a reply. None. She knocked once more, "Danielle, honey, please open up." She waited, patiently. This was one of her God-given powers, to be patient and well-mannered all the time. She was perfect. Maybe she was a robot that Rex had transformed, you never know with Bree. "Oh seriously I know you are in there." She muttered and opened the door. No Danielle. Bree sighed and looked around the room. She needed somewhere to put the homework. Her daughter obviously decided to escape while she had the chance to be sent into prison by her mother, the judge, police and boss of the world. She placed the homework on the bed. She was disgusted in the state of the room. It was a mess. Everything was everywhere. Bree knew she'd have to either order Danielle to clean it up, or she do it herself.
Bree walked gracefully back downstairs and into the kitchen. She had her apron with white fabric and frills around the oval shape. She placed her white and red mittens on and opened the oven. She was cooking. Did I mention she was a great cook? She had baked cookies from scratch, and placed it on the island in the middle of the kitchen's counter top. She breathed it in. "Ahhh." She exhaled.
Bree listened for a minute. She couldn't hear a thing. Rex wasn't at home, Danielle wasn't anywhere to be seen, and Andrew ... who knew where he was? Bree was alone. The house was spotless, and the cookies needed to cool for about five minutes. Bree sighed and took the mittens off slowly and gracefully. Everything about this woman was done delicately and perfectly. She appeared perfect; beautiful, perfect hair, the perfect house, but inside there was deep pain. Bree never revealed much to people, her reputation was a little more important than getting certain things out in the open. That was just Bree. You learn to live with it, Danielle, Andrew and Rex had.
Bree walked around the house. She decided to check the mail. She walked outside, down the steps and to her mail box. She opened it; nothing. Today was truly boring. Bree sighed and walked back in. She could go and clean up Danielle's room if she really was desperate, and she was. She walked up the stairs and into Danielle's room, shutting the door behind her.
Sophie and Susan were baking a cake together and a batch of cookies. You could say they felt like a Bree, except without the pale skin and the red perfectly straight hair. Sophia and Susan looked a lot alike; the same hair, face structure and personalities. They always got along really well. They were talking about Sophie's life that Susan hadn't had to the chance to talk about on their few phone conversations.
"Everything with Marty is going just fine. I needed a break from that old chomp." Sophie smiled at Susan.
Did she just say chomp? Susan thought to herself. "Marty, an old chomp? Well, how is the business he's running? Is it a diner now or something?"
"A diner in deed. I don't know why he just doesn't call it the Chomp. It would be describing himself and the state of the place. It's a mess. All old and rusty. Everything seems to have rust or some sort of mould." Sophie shivered at the thought and the images displayed in her brain. "Coming here, it is just so clean. So peaceful. So yummy." She smiled her 'evil' smile, that is what Susan would call it.
"Yummy? As in the food or ..."
"Honey, you know what I mean." Sophie smirked. "So, how is that boyfriend of yours Susie?"
Susan could almost choke herself just by breathing. "Boyfriend? Oh, we ended it. Or, I ended it." Susan knew her mother wanted the goss; who he was and why it ended. Her motto was to 'Never dump a cute guy. Get his money, have his children then dump him.' Sophie was very strange, as you may have defined already.
"So, anyone in the street?" She was hinting for Susan to spill out what had happened. It was always best to get everything off of your chest before you explode.
Susan sighed and rolled her eyes. "Mike Delfino. The man you purposely drove into." Susan emphasized. "He lied. He's a criminal; an ex-drug dealer. I found money stashed in his pantry with a gun." Susan felt better. She actually felt better.
Sophie's mouth dropped open in surprise. "A criminal? But look at him. Susie, you let a pretty darn good fish go."
"Mum, please. Lets just avoid this until it is necessary to bring up again."
"Okay sweetie." Sophie knew not to push Susan, especially when she held a utensil, even if it wasn't very 'killing like', in her grasp. But in Susan's hands, it was. She was a very clumsy girl, so we all suggest you stay away from her when she was things in her hand. Keep her away from sharp objects, and don't push her; mentally, physically or verbally. "So ... how is Julie?"
Gabrielle sat on a chair in the living room. She was reading 'Cleo'. Carlos was home, walking around the house like a stray dog. "Honey, how many times are you going to circle the inside of our house?"
"Until I find something to do." Carlos was bored. Very bored. He knew if he had a child, maybe he wouldn't be bored. Maybe he'd enjoy being home more often. "Gabby, maybe if we had a baby, maybe I'd be more entertained, and you would be too."
He just blurted that out. Even though she had her back to him, because he was standing near the front door, her eyes were wide open, and her mouth was too. He knew that. "Carlos, how many times do I have to say, I'm not ready for a little Solis. I don't want to have children."
Carlos knew there was no point in arguing, as he knew the pills he'd tampered with to get Gabrielle pregnant were either working, or were about to.
But what the couple didn't know, was that a little Solis would soon come, maybe not their own child, maybe a relative, maybe not even theirs ...