Well, I'm not dumb, but I can't understand

How she walked like a woman but talked like a man

Oh, my Lola

La-la-la-la Lola

La-la-la-la Lola.

Girls will be boys and boys will be girls

It's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world

Except for Lola

La-la-la-la Lola.

-from "Lola", The Kinks, 1970

"Yes, I heard it from the neighbor. They're getting divorced."

"I don't believe it! Sally and Earl?!"

"Yep. It's a bonafide fact. My neighbor Alice told me all about it. They live right behind her so she can hear them fighting in their backyard all the time."

"Who would have ever thought! Those two are a neighborhood fixture! Do you know why they're calling it quits?"

"Well, according to what Alice told me and what I've heard over the fence, Earl had affairs with at least three different women over the past year- all of them half his age."

"No!"

"Yes! One of them was a model, one a theater actress, and the latest his own hairdresser."

"Well, I'll be!"

Shirley Clyde and June Foster of Morning Glory Circle were seated at the food court in the mall, doing what they did best- gossiping. They had been shopping together all morning and had now stopped for lunch.

"And are they still living there together?" June Foster leaned in, rapt.

"Right now, yes, but Earl's moving out next Tuesday," Shirley, apparently the expert on the subject, replied.

"She's keeping the house?"

"Apparently so."

"Well, if I were her, I would have kicked him out the second I found out he'd been cheating!"

"Not me." Shirley took a sip from her paper cup of lemonade. "I'd try to work it out. That's the problem with couples nowadays. They hit one bump in the road and- Hey, isn't that our neighbor, Darrin Stephens?"

Both ladies turned to look at the tall, brown-haired man with charmingly overlarge ears in a navy blue business suit. He was approaching a table not far away, carrying a tray of food. He wasn't alone. Another man was with him, also carrying his lunch to the table.

"Yes, that's Darrin Stephens all right," June responded, still eyeing the two men. "Say, who is that man who's with him?"

Shirley took a bite of her chow mein. "Must be a client."

"He's very good-looking, isn't he?" June said slowly, her eyes fixated on Darrin and his partner.

Now Shirley was paying attention. "That, I can't disagree with." She whistled quietly. "He is fiiii-iiiiine."

The man Darrin was with indeed young, very good looking, very well dressed, and very well groomed. In fact, he could have been a model. He was wearing a smooth-looking light tan suit coat and immaculately white slacks. Beneath the suit coat was a sky blue shirt, and around his neck a tie with diagonal stripes in white and cheerul shades of blue. An expertly-folded kerchief in a floral blue print peeked out from the pocket on the left of his chest, obviously decorative rather than for function. To top off the whole ensemble, he wore a smart little fedora the same color as his suit coat with a band of black around the crown. The whole outfit was spotless, cleaner than Mother Teresa's soul, and there was neither a crease nor a wrinkle to be seen.

Shirley and June continued to watch as the two men pulled out their plastic bucket chairs and sat down across from each other to eat. The well-dressed man unfolded his paper napkin and placed it daintily across his lap. Darrin noticed the gesture and hesitated for the briefest of moments before doing the same, albeit less daintily. As they ate, they seemed to be making pleasant conversation. But June and Shirley couldn't help but notice the way they both leaned forward unusually close to each other. They almost looked like a couple on a date. Even odder was the way the handsome, stylishly besuited man primly cut up his hamburger with a fork and knife as if he were dining on steak at a fine restaurant. He took delicate bites, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin every so often.

"Is he… ?" Shirley finally began.

"Yes, he is," June quickly responded.

"A funnyboy."

"Funny as they come."

Just then, a large group of mothers and screaming children who had been sitting nearby got up and left. The noise level in the food court went down, and the two women were now able to make out some of what Darrin and the other man were saying. They heard the handsome man thank Darrin for buying his lunch and mention that he felt bad about it, to which Darrin responded generously that of course he paid for the lunch. They heard Darrin complement the man's clothing, saying he "looked sensational", and then something about being glad to be "partners". When the handsome man returned the praise by telling Darrin he was "too kind", June Foster just about spat out her bite of pastrami sandwich.

"Looks like Earl wasn't the only one having an affair in this neighborhood! They're on a date!"

Shirley just shook her head. "I don't believe my ears. The last person I'd ever think was… I mean, never in a million years would I have thought Darrin would cheat, let alone… you know."

Shirley and June kept their eyes and ears on the men as they ate. When they were done, both men stood up and amicably shook each others' hands. ("Well, what'd you expect, June? A kiss? They are having to hide it, you know!") Then the feminine, well-dressed man walked out the food court doors and presumably left the mall. Meanwhile, Darrin headed the opposite way towards the pay phones off to the side of the room. He made a quick call, then walked off into the food court.

June elbowed Shirley so abruptly, she almost knocked the lemonade from her hands.

"Come on, let's follow him! Bring those magazines! We'll use them to hide our faces."

A mere sixty seconds later, June and Shirley were standing with their backs against the wall, holding magazines over their faces, peering over the top of the pages to spy on Darrin as he stood in line at the Smartbucks Coffee counter.

Finally, his turn to order came.

"May I have a tall honey almondmilk flat white with two pumps honey blend, easy foam, and cinnamon on too?" he asked the barista.

Shirley and June simultaneously turned towards each other.

"Definitely a funnyboy."

Darrin Stephens had a spring in his step that afternoon as he turned the key in his front door. Things were going fantastic with the Mancinelli Men's Fashions account. To make things even better, he got to leave work early for once and enjoy the rest of the day off. So after taking his client, the youngest Mancinelli brother who worked as the shop's model, to lunch at the mall food court, he'd gone straight home to spend the rest of the day with his wife. After knocking playfully at the door, he stepped inside the house.

"Delivery for Mrs. Samantha Stephens!" he called.

At once, Samantha poked her head out from the kitchen, and Darrin briefly saw that her hands were covered in something light brown and sticky.

"Oh! Darrin! I'll be right there!"

She disappeared back into the kitchen. Darrin heard water running. A second later, she emerged with clean hands, wearing an apron.

"Hello, sweetheart," she smiled.

"Here it is, just as you ordered," Darrin said, placing a paper Smartbucks coffee cup in her hands, "A tall honey almondmilk flat white with two pumps honey blend, easy foam, and cinnamon on top. Did I get that right?"

Samantha took a sip. "It's perfect. Thank you, sweetheart. You really didn't have to do that."

"Well, I know you can't resist Smartbucks. Still, I'll never get what it is about women and their girly drinks. A cup of coffee is a cup of coffee right?"

"Actually, it's not. You see," Sam began explaining, "A flat white is made by pouring steamed milk over two shots of espresso. It's a milky drink, but still retains that strong coffee flavor. It's topped with microfoam. Oh, and it tends to be smaller than other coffee drinks."

"Sooo… Why dont you just order a small latte with extra almondmilk and honey as a sweetener?"

"No, that would be completely different. See, a flat white has this wonderful creamy mouthfeel- "

"Uh, that's alright. I think I get it," Darrin interrupted, although, in reality, he did not. Mouthfeel? What the hell was mouthfeel? It sounded like something some college boy would brag about in the locker room the morning after hooking up with some chick at the Buccaneer Tavern. Dude, I met this hot girl last night at the Buck and I took her back to my dorm and she gave me the greatest mouthfeels, dude! Mouthfeels aside, he would never understand why Sam always wanted almondmilk, which was basically almond-flavored water, in her Smartbucks drinks. She insisted it was better for her waistline, but he staunchly believed that drinking almond water would never be worth cutting those extra fifty calories.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken," Darrin prodded, moving on, "The oven is on, and you had dough all over your hands when I first walked in."

"Very perceptive," Samantha said, "You brought me a coffee, and I have something for you too. I'm making cookies. I was just about to put them in the oven."

"Mm, cookies sound absolutely perfect."

"Come on, why don't you come tell me about your day while I put them on the sheet?"

Samantha motioned towards the kitchen and he followed her, then seated himself at the kitchen table.

"Well, today we finally sealed the deal on the Mancinelli Men's Fashions account," he said as Sam doled tablespoons of cookie batter onto a greased sheet.

"Mancinelli Men's Fashions… Isn't that the little shop by the Green Street Café? The one with the super fancy men's clothes we always say men would only buy if they were… uh…."

"Gay? Yes, that's the one."

"Isn't it run by brothers?"

"Yep. Mark, Peter, and Fabio Mancinelli. I was supposed to take all three of them to lunch today after sealing the deal, but something suddenly came up for Mark and Peter, so I only took Fabio."

"Oh? Where'd you go?"

"Just the mall food court. Anyway, let's forget about work for now. I have the whole rest of the day off, and we can do whatever we want. What would you like to do?"

Samantha thought for a second as she stuck the cookies into the oven.

"A walk in the park?"

"Sounds perfect." Darrin grinned. "After we have some of these cookies, of course."

The following morning, Darrin swaggered into the office still in a good mood.

"Morning, ladies! Morning, Kermit!" he called to various colleagues as he walked in. His brain faintly registered the secretaries, Betty and Sharon, tittering about something in a corner, and his pal, commercial artist Kermit, eyeing him with an unusual look. But he thought nothing of it and continued towards his office. That is, he thought nothing of it until that fateful staff meeting later that day.

During the meeting, he noticed that people were definitely looking at him strangely. Occasionally, he even saw some of his coworkers snicker and whisper at each other while casting sideways glances at him. Something was definitely going on. But he had no idea what.

Towards the end of the meeting, Larry brought up the Mancinelli account.

"As you all know," he said to everyone, "The Mancinelli brothers have just given us the pleasure of advertising for their… [cough] fine gentlemen's clothing establishment. Their younger brother Fabio works as the model for the shop, but yesterday afternoon, the brothers brought up an idea to me that they think would do wonders for this campaign."

As soon as Larry spoke Fabio's name, a few giggles and an oohs could be heard around the room.

Larry continued. "They'd like another model to pose for photos along with Fabio, some new and fresh-faced unknown." He spoke with a slightly detectable sarcastic edge, as if he were reciting something he'd been told earlier but actually thought it was bogus. "But they don't want any old unknown." Here he pursed his lips like a frog. "They want [brief pause] our very own [brief pause] Darrin Stephens."

The secretive little snickers and titters Darrin had been hearing all day exploded. People just couldn't seem to hold it in anymore.

"Perfect guy for the job," Darrin heard someone whisper, "I bet he'll love it."

What the hell was going on?!

"Darrin," Larry went on, "Mr. Mancinelli and Mr. Mancinelli told me that you possess a certain attractiveness, a sort of old-timey Hollywood charm that they think would suit their clothing perfectly."

If everyone in the room weren't now sniggering hysterically behind their hands, Darrin would have been pleased as punch to be called "attractive" with "Hollywood charm".

Larry slapped some kind of typed document onto the tabletop and pushed it towards stunned Darrin. "I need you to sign this contract. You're basically agreeing not to sue Mancinelli Men's Fashions for any bodily harm that may befall you while on the modelling set. Apparently they hired another model before, a few years ago, and it did not end well." He looked off to the side and straightened his tie as he stiffly finished this last sentence.

"Ooh, did Fabio pounce on him too hard?" somebody sneered.

"Bet Darrin will pounce right back!"

Suppressed laughter abounded. Darrin didn't know whether to focus on the confusion and hurt pride it was causing him, or on protesting the ridiculous proposal that he wear these feminine clothes.

"Larry, I can't do this!" he exclaimed at his boss. "Those clothes, they're… they're just not my style!"

"Yeah, well, they're not a lot of guys' style, but business is business," Larry replied, sounding slightly exasperated.

"But they… they look like girls' clothes!"

This ellicited more knowing snickering, which Larry ignored.

"They're going to pay you for this, Darrin. Fifty dollars."

Fifty dollars? He really did need the money. How could he say no to that?

"Okay, fine. I'll do it. Give me the pen."

Darrin ignored the smirks and chortles of his colleagues and finally signed the contract. But Larry didn't accept it.

"Darrin," he said sternly, "Full name."

Darrin sighed. "You know I hate my middle name, Lar."

"Do it." Larry snapped "It's policy."

Darrin exhaled again. Begrudgingly, he went over his signature with white-out and re-signed with his first, middle, and last name.

"Alright, everyone, meeting dismissed," Larry said as soon as Darrin signed. Everyone began shuffling out of his office. "Darrin, you go on over and and see Robin and Clovis. They're gonna drive you to the park to take your pictures." Robin and Clovis were the photographers on duty that day.

But as soon as Darrin had stepped out the door, somebody just had to squeal. "Look! His middle name is Gaylord!"

Terrific.

"Ha-ha! That's perfect, since he's gay!"

What?! Gay?! Was this what everything was about? They thought he was gay?!

"What's all the fuss about?" Darrin heard the new guy, who had just started today, ask quietly somewhere behind him. "Is he a little light in the loafers?"

"Well, if it walks like a duck and it talks like a duck, then it is a duck," someone responded like a smartass.

Darrin couldn't believe what he was hearing. So that's why everyone was acting so weirdly towards him today, and why everyone had laughed when they learned he was going to model for Mancinelli! Some idiot had started a rumor that he was gay!

It was too much. Darrin hurried for the men's restroom to get away from everyone for a moment and take it all in.

"How could they possibly think I'm gay?" Darrin thought as he hurried down the carpeted hallway. "I'm married, to a woman."

Finally, he reached the men's room and threw the door open. Instantly, the line of men standing at the urinals all stuffed their junk back into their pants, letting out startled gasps and coughing nervously.

"It's the gay guy! Cover up!" somebody whispered.

Oh, God.

Then they all left, all except one guy who actually finished his pee and then fist-bumped Darrin on his way out, telling him he was "brave".

Oh, man. This rumor. It was bad. It was really, really bad.

Twenty minutes later, Darrin was in the car with Robin and Clovis Springfield, the husband-and-wife team of photographers who were taking his pictures today. They were on their way to the park two blocks from the office building. Darrin was a little calmer now. It helped to get away from the office, where everyone was talking about him. Luckily, the Springfields seemed to be some of his only coworkers who were still treating him with respect.

"So, Clovis, how far along are you now?" Darrin asked, glancing back at the rear seat where Clovis sat resting a hand on her pregnant stomach.

"Eight months, two weeks, and two days," Clovis responded proudly. "It's our first child. If it's a boy, we're naming him after Robin."

Darrin whistled in surprise. "Eight months and two weeks! And you're still working! You should be on maternity leave."

"Oh, no. No time off for me yet. I love work. I plan to keep working right till the day the baby comes."

"She's a real powerhouse, Robin," Darrin said.

"That she is," Robin agreed as he drove. "Although I do worry about her overdoing it and harming herself or the baby. I've told her a million times that mothers who don't work in the final trimester are known to have less complications during delivery."

Clovis shook her head and smiled faintly like she wanted to chuckle. "Robin has a little anxiety problem when it comes to this baby business. He's worked himself into quite a state over it."

"Honey, I have every right to be nervous," Robin said, "You know that three percent of women die in childbirth."

Now Clovis looked annoyed. "He loooves to remind me…"

After parking on the curb by the park, the trio picked out a nice-looking spot under some trees with good natural lighting and a bathroom nearby where Darrin could change in and out of the outfits he'd be modeling.

As soon as he walked out of the bathroom wearing the first ensemble, Darrin felt incredibly stupid. He hoped and prayed nobody he knew would see him. The outfit consisted of a nautical cap, tight white pants, and a white shirt in an airy material covered in what looked like bold, square-shaped blotches of watercolor in varying shades of blue. As instructed, he left the top button of the shirt unfastened, teasing a view of his bare chest. He felt like a walking, sexually confused Picasso painting.

Worse yet were the shoes, pure white like the pants. They were what you wanted to call loafers, only… not. They were more like girls' shoes. They actually had a heel! Darrin wondered if they sold them in Samantha's size. Maybe she would like them for her birthday.

"Alright, D!" Robin called. "You can put your clothes in the car and then come on over here."

Darrin had to cycle through four sets of cringe-worthy apparel that day, including a sage green number with Oriental accents and a floral tie, a "casual" outfit with a lavender polo shirt, and one featuring suspenders, a bow tie, and a decorative kerchief all in polka dots. Predictably, though, the worst was saved for last.

"Okay, D," Robin said, handing him a bundle of festively-colored, folded clothing, "This last one is Mancinelli's special edition outfit they're releasing next month for Easter. They call it 'Primavera Dream'".

Primavera Dream was everything the name would suggest- an Easter-themed monstrosity in springtime pastel colors, mainly the shade of soft pink popular for infant girls. Darrin said goodbye to his dignity as he put on the pink fedora.

He posed for his photos thinking gloomily of how everyone at the office would be in stitches when they saw them. Probably even his wife would laugh so hard she would fart.

He was beyond glad when Robin snapped the last photo and announced that they were done. But before he could even move from the spot where he'd had to pose, Clovis suddenly doubled over, clutching her enlarged belly.

"THE BABY IS COMING!" she screamed.

In a flash, Robin was in the car speeding maniacally away with the about-to-burst Clovis… and Darrin's regular clothes.

"WAAAAAIT! ROBIN! MY CLOOOTHES!" Darrin yelled, running after Robin's car as best he could in Primavera Dream. He waved his arms madly, trying to get Robin to stop, but it was no use. The last glimpse he saw of the car that carried his clothing was it screeching around the corner before barreling out of sight, and Robin's face in the window looking white as a marsmallow.

That was how he ended up making the trek back to work in Primavera Dream. One can only imagine the hilarity that ensued among his colleagues when he arrived.

"I just knew McMann shouldn't have let Clovis work as far along as she was," Larry said when Darrin got back to the office and told him what had happened. "It was bound to cause some kind of inconvenience like this."

Darrin shook his head, still feeling the burn of his coworkers' reactions when he had walked into the lobby wearing that stupid Easter suit. And he still couldn't shake the stares and badly concealed laughter from passers-by as he walked up the street like a human, pastel-hued rainbow. Luckily, he was now back in one of his typical business suits. He thanked his lucky stars he'd been smart enough to keep an extra change of clothes at work.

"Yeah, well…" he said, not really able to focus on the conversation. "If it's a boy, they said they're gonna name him after Robin."

"Huh," Larry said, "Well, with a name like that, we'll be lucky if the kid doesn't turn out to be a funnyboy like you."

Samantha kicked her shoes off and dropped lazily onto the couch, finally putting her feet up after vacuuming the entire first floor of the house. She was done with her housework for the day and was wondering what to do with her free time when she heard someone knock on the front door. She figured it was either the Jehovah's Witnesses or Gladys Kravitz asking for a cup of sugar but really just making an excuse to come snoop, and got up to answer the door.

It was, in fact, neither of these two. Instead, her neighbors Shirley Clyde and June Foster stood at the doorstep. She wondered what they wanted. Shirley and June seemed to only ever stop by when they wanted to gossip.

"Hello, Samantha," June said.

"Shirley, June," Sam greeted them, "What brings you here?"

"We, uh…" June hesitated. "We have something we thought we should tell you."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Shirley said, "It's about your husband."

"My husband?" What could this be about? "Hold on. Why don't you both come in?"

Samantha led the two women into the living room and they all sat down. She offered them iced tea, but they politely declined.

"Now what is this about Darrin?" she asked when they were all settled.

June and Shirley just looked at each other. Suddenly, they seemed uncomfortable.

"He, uh…"

"Nothing's happened to him, has it?" Sam questioned, growing nervous by their weird behavior.

"Oh, no, nothing like that," Shirley responded, forcing a smile. "It's just that he's… he's…"

"He's gay," June finally said.

Baffled, Samantha blinked at them. They had come over to tell her Darrin was happy?

"Well, yes. He is a very lively man," she said.

"No, no, dear. Not that kind of gay."

"We mean that we found out he's… He's a little light in the loafers," June said delicately.

Darrin, light in the loafers? Samantha couldn't help it. She started to laugh.

"No, we mean it," June said seriously, "We saw him yesterday on a date with another man, who was obviously gay. They were having lunch together."

Samantha was still laughing. At last, she composed herself enough to say, "He took a client to lunch yesterday. I think that's what you saw. You saw him at the mall food court, right?"

"Right," June said, "But, dear, you should have seen him. It was not just a business lunch. The two of them were leaning in very close to each other…"

"Very intimately."

"Yes, and Darrin told the other man he looked sensational, and the he was glad they were partners! They were complimenting each other left and right!"

"Oh, that can't be true," Samantha brushed it off, still quite amused, "He was probably saying something about the business partnership. How can you tell what people are saying in a noisy food court anyway?

"Granted, we did only catch bits and pieces of the conversation," Shirley admitted. "But then you know what Darrin did? He went to the Smartbucks booth and ordered a tall honey-almondmilk flat white with two pumps honey blend, easy foam, and cinnamon on top."

Shirley and June nodded at each other like they had just sealed the incriminating evidence.

"Ladies," Sam said, "That drink was for me. He brought it home to me."

Her neighbors blinked and then went right on, ignoring her.

"That other man, Samantha. He was obviously gay! I've never seen a man dress so feminine. And his walk and his mannerisms…"

"Oh, that's ridiculous," Sam said, "Darrin, of all people, most certainly is not gay. He's married to me, isn't he? And if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that he would never cheat. Especially not with a man!" She fought back the urge to start laughing again.

The neighbors shared a quick, concerned glance.

"Well, if we can't convince you, I guess we'll be on our way," June said, standing up.

Samantha knew they could never possibly convince her.

"Why don't you stay a while? I baked cookies yesterday. Let me bring them out," she offered.

Her neighbors declined yet again. Samantha saw them out, smiling politely as she bid them goodbye. But the second she closed the door behind them, she practically collapsed with laughter. Her Darrin, gay! It was too much. It was hysterical. She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, shaking her head, as she entered the kitchen. As she poured herself a glass of water, the words ran over in her head again.

My Darrin, gay!

We saw him yesterday on a date with another man…

My Darrin, gay…

My Darrin… GAY?!

Was it really all that funny?

By the time the workday was over, Darrin was in such a bad headspace over this bullshit rumor, he knew he had to do something to decompress. So before leaving his office, he called home to tell Sam he was stopping for a quick drink with his friend Dave. Sam didn't pick up so he'd had to leave a message, but he was sure she'd be fine with it.

Before long, he was sitting at his favorite bar just minutes from home, his friend Dave sipping a beer beside him. Darrin always turned to Dave when he needed to vent. Dave was kind of airheaded and gave baloney advice. Still, Darrin always felt better after telling him what was on his mind, even if Dave never really listened.

"You know, Darrin," Dave said once Darrin had finished his rant about the rumor and the mistreatment from his colleagues, "You always struck me as being more in tune with your feminine side."

"I have no idea how this stupid rumor could have started, Dave. I don't know what could could have possibly planted the idea in their heads that I'm gay." Darrin stared off into space as he nursed his beer.

"The good thing ," Dave carried on, "Is that you realized it now instead of later. You haven't been married long, so it isn't going to hurt your wife as much as if you'd been married, say, ten years already."

"Then as if things weren't bad enough," Darrin vented, "Larry announced at a staff meeting that I was gonna model outfits for Mancinelli. You should have heard everyone laugh."

"I hear these sad stories all the time. The husband realizes twenty years into the marriage that he's gay. It tears the family apart…"

"Worst of all is when I got stranded in Primavera Dream. The photographer went into labor during the photoshoot, and her husband freaked out and drove her to the hospital before I could get my clothes from their car. I had to walk two blocks back to work in that girly-colored nightmare."

"…It tears the kids apart. Luckily you realized it before you got that far."

"You should have seen the way people were looking at me…"

Dave got up. "Listen, buddy, I gotta go now, but I'm glad I helped. And remember- no matter what, I support you!" He gave Darrin a hearty pat on the back and walked out.

Darrin stayed behind to finish the last sips of his beer, then shuffled out into the parking lot. For some reason, talking to Dave hadn't made him feel any better this time. All he wanted now was to go home to his comfortable house, his kind and understanding wife, and his dinner.

But when he walked through the door of his home ten minutes later, what he saw was not what he expected. Samantha was curled in a corner of the couch, crying as if her heart had broken, her face buried in the cushions. Darrin dropped his briefcase and hurried over to her.

"Sammy, honey, what's wrong?"

Samantha wouldn't even look at him. She only cried.

What the hell had happened? Was Endora dead? Her father?

"What is it, honey?" Darrin put his hand on her back and noticed how she instantly tensed up. No matter how he tried, he couldn't get a word out of her.

At long last, she finally whirled around and blurted, "Darrin! How could you do this to me?!"

Darrin was baffled. "W-what? Me?!" He couldn't think of anything he'd done that might upset her like this. Had she found out about the time he'd whistled and said "woohoo" at the metermaid that one morning as he parked for work? No, how could she possibly? Anyhow, he highly doubted that something like that would warrant a waterworks fest of this magnitude.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Samantha cried out through her tears.

"Tell you what? Sweetheart, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That you're GAY!"

"What?! Not you too!" Darrin exclaimed, gobsmacked and dismayed.

"I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!"

"Honey, I- "

"Was I just a joke to you?! An ACT?! Us, this house, this RING! Was it all some MEANINGLESS CHARADE?!" She hid her face back in the cushions and cried some more. Darrin heard one more muffled, agonized, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He was confounded. "Sam… sweetheart, honey… I am NOT gay. I don't know who or what put that idea in your head, but it just isn't true."

"Shirley and June told me all about it. They came over and told me you were gay, and that they saw you on a date yesterday with another man!" Samantha gulped. "Oh, Darrin, you could you?!"

Suddenly, things began to make sense. Darrin thought he had seen two women in the food court yesterday who looked like those gossips, Shirley and June. They must have seen him with the clearly-camp-as-a-row-of-pink-tents Fabio Mancinelli and assumed he was on a date. It was an absolutely ludicrous, ridiculous, far-fatched thing to assume, but June and Shirley had a definite gift for converting any innocent little doing into a scandal.

"Sam, that wasn't a date! That was the client I took to lunch- the Mancinelli client! Remember?"

He noticed her visibly calm down just a little, though she still hid her face.

"B-but they said… They said you told him he looked sensational, and that you were glad to be partners, and that you were leaning very close and intimately towards each other." Tiny sob.

Darrin shook his head, almost wanting to laugh. "Oh, Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam. I told him that the clothing sold by Mancinelli was sensational-looking. I didn't mean he himself! When I said it, I pointed at him because he was wearing a Mancinelli suit. Said he wears one every day of his life. I told him the shop's clothing looked sensational and that I was glad we were partnering up with them. I didn't mean that kind of partner!"

Sam finally uncovered her face and peeked over at him, beginning to unfurl from her shrimplike position.

"And of course we had to lean close to each other," Darrin said. "There was a table full of screaming five-year-olds near us, and the food court was so loud. We were trying to talk business but it was hard to hear each other."

At last, Samantha sat up straight. Darrin saw that her tears had stopped.

"But the other man," she said quietly, swiping a hand across her eye, "They said he was obviously gay."

The phone rang.

"Hold on, let me get that," Darrin said. "Hello? Yes, this is him. Yes, I… NO, I am NOT romantically involved with Larry Tate! GOODBYE!" He groaned and dragged his hand across his forehead like he was exhausted.

"Sorry about that. Anyway, Fabio Mancinelli? Yes, he is obviously gay! I know that and so does everyone else at McMann and Tate! It doesn't mean… it doesn't mean that!"

He saw the forlorn look of heartbreak in her eyes lighten. Then she smirked. And started to chuckle. Darrin couldn't help a chuckle himself. Suddenly the whole scenario seemed oddly humorous.

"Oh, Darrin, I'm so sorry! I don't know what got into me to make me believe their meaningless gossip. I'm such a silly witch." She wiped her eyes and blew magical purple sparkly snots into a tissue. "Can you forgive me?"

"I'm sorry those snoops ruined your day," Darrin responded. "They should be the ones apologizing. But yes, we can forget all about it now. I'm actually kind of flattered that you would be so heartbroken over me."

Samantha blew more sparkly purple snots into her tissue and chuckled again. "Don't let it get to your head. I feel like an idiot, though. I knew better than to believe something like that."

"Well, you know those neighbors are masters at making people believe tall tales. Now, come on. Give me a hug. Let's forget all about it."

"Oh, no," Sam said after said hug, smacking her forehead, "I had myself so worked up over this foolishness that I forgot to make dinner."

"Don't worry about it," Darrin said, "We've both been through the wringer today. I'll order us a pizza. Unless you'd rather go out for pizza?"

Sam shook her head. "Ordering is fine. A cozy night in sounds perfect."

After the terrible day he'd just had, Darrin had to agree.

"I second that," he agreed. "After I call it in, I'll tell you all about the wild day I had. Insane as it sounds, the neighbors weren't the only ones talking about me being gay."