Chapter Four: Something I Call Personality/ Part Two

PAST:

A week ago.

When Edie Britt had discovered Mrs. McCluskey in her garage that evening, she had been nothing short of panicked. But, as she had learned to hide the truth from a young age; she had also taught herself to cover up her feelings. So, she feigned her calm attitude and coolly demanded that the old hoebag tell her what she was doing.

"Geez Edie! You frightened me!"

"You're still alive and talking, obviously it wasn't enough"

Mrs. McCluskey brushed off this hurtful comment with a look of indignation and then continued to root through Edie's private possessions.

"Hey! Get out of there!" Edie yelled, rushing over to snatch a box from her enemy's arthritis plagued fingertips.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"Well, your garage door WAS open…"

"What?"

"Well, unlocked…"

Edie's nostrils flared spectacularly.

"I found the key under the plant pot"

As Mrs. McCluskey noticed Edie's fists clench together forcefully, she decided that it was better for her general health to leave now.

"I apologize, I'll be going now. It must be my angina medication playing up"

Edie was astounded at the decrepit bitch's nerve. As she began checking the garage for items that her neighbor may've decided to steal, she heard her nemesis slip out quietly.

There was a plastic wallet which had contained photos on the exercise bench to her left and the photos were now strewn on the floor beneath it. She bent down to pick them up, whilst wishing that looks could kill. However, Edie realized that if this were a reality, Karen McCluskey would have just burst into a thousand tiny pieces on her front lawn.

She finished replacing the photographs and then, horrified, detected that one was missing. It was the photo of her own Mother and the equivalent of Susan's- Sophie Bremmer. Shit.

She looked across at McCluskey. Sure enough, the Polaroid was sticking out of her denim pants back pocket.

DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE

PRESENT:

Susan had woken to find her Daughter had started to make her some breakfast. The prominent smell of bacon made her stomach turn over. At first she thought this may be morning sickness which she'd previously experienced at even the mere thought of food this early in the morning; but, she soon gathered that it was the hard hitting fact that Ian had abandoned her that was making her feel ill.

"Morning" Julie called.

"Hey you" Susan managed to contort a smile.

"Feeling better?"

"Much" she lied.

"Dad called. He'll be here in ten minutes to pick me up"

"Oh…but I thought- never mind."

Julie looked at her Mother on the couch, her legs curled up underneath her and her chin resting on her knees. She reminded her of a small child. For a second, she considered calling her Father and pretending she's suddenly caught some semi-serious illness that required bed rest, but then she thought better of it. She'd cancelled on her Father not last time, but the time before because Susan's book proposal had fallen through. She couldn't do it to him again.

"Here you go" Julie said, serving the food out onto a plate and carrying it over.

"Thanks…"

"I'll go get ready."

With that, Julie retreated to her room and left her Mother alone.

DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE

Gabrielle heard the doorbell ring repeatedly, each time hurting her already throbbing head. She'd drunk far too much tequila for the second time that week and now she was paying the price: a headache that resembled a nuclear war and early morning callers.

It was all Carlos' fault she thought as she pulled on her robe. If she didn't miss him so much this would never have happened. She wouldn't have drunk too much and spent all her money on shoes so that she couldn't afford a packet of paracetamol.

She answered the door and found her Mother standing in her threshold.

Gabrielle thought really, really hard but it was no use. No matter which way she put it, she couldn't pin this one on Carlos

DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE

Karl's car journeys with his Daughter always went the same way.

First he'd ask about school.

Then he'd inquire about her love life, even though Julie protested.

And then he'd put the radio on and they'd sit in silence until they reached his house.

But this time was different.

He'd asked about school and got the usual crap about not having a boyfriend; but when he'd reached over to switch the radio on, she'd batted his hand away and turned to face him.

"I'm worried about Mum"

"She moody?"

"Yeah…"

"Crying a lot?"

"Um…yeah, yeah she is…"

"Curled up on the couch surrounded by chocolate?"

"Yes."

"All signs of my pregnant ex-wife" he stated, gaining a slight sensation of smugness at Susan's expense.

"No Dad. You're wrong. Ian found out…and then he shouted…a lot…and then he left… a lot."

"He did?"

Karl turned the dial and Feeder pumped out and filled the space where his guilt had been.

DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE

Seeing as they both adored it so much, Orson and Bree took turns at cleaning the house from top to bottom. Today was Orson's turn. He'd scrubbed, mopped, dusted and polished and now he was placing fresh linen on all of the beds. Before he completed this chore however, he closed all the upstairs blinds so that no neighbor could see him. He didn't want them talking.

Andrew's was always the last room to be done. As he fluffed his step-son's pillow, he noticed something sticking out from underneath his mattress. Pulling the article out, Orson examined it, only to be disgusted. Why was Andrew looking at other men?

DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE

Eliza saw Tom as soon as she entered the cafe and made a b-line for him.

"HI!" she greeted him, a little too friendly for a man such as Tom and sat down opposite him with her strawberry milkshake.

"Oh, hey Eliza." Even though he knew Lynette was at home watching the kids, he still checked for her. His wife would not be pleased if she discovered he'd "socialized" with her old pal. And, as much as Tom hated to admit it, his wife sacred the crap out of him.

"Does Lynette know you're here?" he asked, already knowing the obvious answer.

"Oh no… you know as well as I do that she doesn't want me to see her anymore."

"Well, that really is a shame…"

"Mhhhm. Tell me about it, we were having so much fun catching up."

"Yeh, she said, although catching up wasn't the word she used…"

"Well, you know Lynette, she holds grudges."

"Grudges?" Although Tom knew he shouldn't have said it as soon as the question had left his lips.

"Yeah, I suppose I just made her face a lot of bad memories."

Tom didn't need to query this one; he knew that Eliza would tell him.

"The abuse must've been hard for her to get over, and I guess I just brought it all back. Like a wave y'know?"

"Lynette…was abused?"

Eliza had the pathetic excuse Lynette had for her Husband right where she wanted him. And right where she intended to keep him. It took no more than ten minutes to re-tell the harrowing story behind Lynette's secret, but in that short amount of time, Eliza felt that she had accomplished a very successful sabotage of a relationship.

DESPERATE DESPERATE DESPERATE

Yes, open confession is good for the soul.

We confess, in our minds hoping that we shall be forgiven.

Sometimes however, we confess on behalf of other people, hoping that we shall severe relationships that they have built.

And other times, we don't confess, scared of what the consequences will be. And that, is not good for the soul at all.