Chapter Three: Something I Call Personality/ Part One
PRESENT:
Open confession is good for the soul.
DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE
Karen McCluskey had always believed that confession was a palliative rather than a remedy.
That's why when the residents of Wisteria Lane confided in her for guidance; she informed them that instead of taking her advice, they should figure out their answer on their own. And, when the odd incident of a neighbor feeling guilt over their shameful or ridiculous act arose, she brashly told them of her other belief. Nothing spoils confession like repentance.
It was Tuesday morning and Edie Britt had just left Mrs. Mcluskey's kitchen for the third time that week after giving her the final installment of her act of desperation. Mrs. McCluskey had found it particularly tiring and was now rewarding herself for her efforts with a large glass of gin from her liquor cabinet. On the way through to her lounge, she noticed Carlos Solis sat on the curb looking very depressed indeed. She placed her alcoholic substance down on her mantelpiece and tottered over the road to join him.
"You okay?" she asked him.
He broke his self pitying stance and looked up at her.
"Oh… hi."
"It's just that you've been sat out here for hours on end everyday this week now" she thought she saw a glimpse of astonishment spread across his gloomy face. She congratulated herself on her observational skills.
"Waiting for something?"
"No, not at all"
"So why you still sat outside Gaby's house?"
"Waiting for her."
"Oh. So you lied"
He tutted, aggravated.
"Why? Her divorce from you came through this morning. She went shopping…I thought the whole point of a divorce was that you left the person…not sit on their driveway."
His patience fraying, he decided to give the old woman what she wanted: the gossip.
"I don't want the divorce, the truth is, I still love Gabriella."
The trouble was, Carlos had stupidly assumed that when the ageing cripple had gotten her fill, that she would bid him a neighborly farewell and go back into her house, He was very, very wrong.
"Watcha gonna do?" she pried.
"I dunno…should I tell her? Tell her it was all a mistake?"
Mrs. McCluskey bent down to meet Carlos' eye.
"No."
You see, she also believed that-
"Move on"
A little confession between old lovers-
"You should move on Carlos. She has"
Was a very dangerous thing.
DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE
Bree Hodge rarely discussed her best friends with her Husband. The truth was; he'd never really been that interested in the ins and outs of Susan's love life and Lynette's latest cock-up. But, as she entered the kitchen that morning to find him in a particularly good mood and making English muffins, she decided to enlighten him.
"I was thinking of having a dinner party Friday night darling"
"Oh really?" Orson inquired.
"Yes…I've found a new recipe for truffles that I simply cannot wait to change."
"Well that sounds like a splendid idea" he turned, drawing her into a tight embrace.
"Oh good, so if you see Lynette or Gabby on your travels, be sure to invite them" she smiled and leaned in to give her Husband an affectionate kiss
"No Susan?"
She pulled away.
"Unfortunately, until Susan can grasp the concept of contraceptives and telling the truth she is uninvited to all dinner arrangements until further notice."
Orson had learned to ignore outbursts like this. He kissed his wife and continued to prepare his breakfast.
Bree continued: "She thought I'd told Ian's Parent's you know…"
Bree was adamant she saw her Husband's ears prick up.
"She did?"
"Yes. She saw me having lunch with them on Thursday and assumed I'd slip something like that into general conversation"
Her Husband looked thoughtfully at her.
"No I didn't!" she stated firmly.
DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE
Edie Britt had grasped the concept of lying at a very early age.
At her fourth birthday party she deceived her Mother by telling her that her Step-Father had eaten all of the cocktail sausages.
When she was five she had convinced her Granddad that she had not lubricated his wife's dentures with car oil.
And when she was thirteen she had told her Father that Larry Deadwood had dropped his earring down her bra- he was not feeling her left nipple.
That is why she found it so easily to lie to Mrs. McCluskey when she had discovered some old photographs in a box Edie had been meaning to throw out years ago.
DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE
Gabrielle had asked herself this question many times before now.
What do the broken hearted do?
And the answer, always had been, shop.
She stood in the lavish department store, surrounded by vast amounts of accessories and outfits that would look divine on her slim, toned body. There was one cocktail dress that she'd had her eye on for months now that she was now seriously considering buying for the hell of it. All she'd needed was an excuse and now Bree was having a get-together on Friday Evening this was her prime opportunity. Sure as hell she'd be insanely overdressed but to be honest, she didn't care all that much.
She placed it down on the check out with a broad grin on her face. Handing, the cashier attendant one of her numerous credit cards she contemplated whether this outfit, just as she had done the last, would fill the void that was there now Carlos had gone.
DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE
It was no shock to Julie when she returned home from Physics Revision that evening that she found her Mother in tears.
It happened on a regular basis and to be fair, she had this routine down to a 'T'.
She'd place her school bag on the rack,
She'd pour her Mother a large glass of red wine.
She'd grab a box of tissues from the bathroom.
And then she'd curl up next to her Mother, entwining her arms around her, until she'd cried herself to sleep.
She didn't ask what was wrong. But judging by Ian's absence, it didn't take much figuring out.
DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE
Open confession is good for the soul.
But it's the confessions that we make to ourselves, deep inside. That do us the most good.
Because, once we've done that, we can fix our mistakes.
DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE
To Be Continued