The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Skeletons in the Closet

“My better half.”
    I resisted the urge to elbow him in the side, even though he laid it on a bit thick. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Kline. You have a lovely home.”
    Alessandra Kline waved off the compliment. “You should have seen our house on Martha’s Vineyard. It was truly something to behold.” She sighed wistfully. “This place will be passable as soon as I find a reliable cleaning service.”
    My eyebrows headed north at the odd comment. The house appeared immaculate, and I have very high standards. I’d been raised in a home where cleanliness meant godliness, and the state of the Kline’s house was piety incarnate.
    “Shall we head back to the gathering?” Doug asked, crowding his wife, Neil, and me at the doorway. His jubilation at his little den o’ horrors had evaporated as soon as Neil and Mrs. Kline had joined the scene and he quickly ushered us all out before relocking the seventh circle of hell. Mrs. Kline had yet to remark on her husband’s odd collection, but then again, she might’ve had a shed full of Dalmatian puppies and a new fur coat design out back.
    What a pair.
    “Who does your cleaning now, Mrs. Kline?” Sylvia asked.
    “Oh, some dreadful woman from an agency was sent in. She overlooked the grout in the bathroom tiles, and I swear I can see bacteria forming in the kitchen sink.”
    I guess Mrs. Kline had never heard of Lysol.
    “You know, Maggie is fastidious about cleaning. Her house puts me to shame every time I visit, and she has two growing boys living there,” Sylvia chirped.
    I shot her a death glare behind the Kline’s backs as we descended to the first floor. What was she insinuating?
    “Is that right?” Mrs. Kline couldn’t have been less interested if Sylvia had announced that NASCAR was coming to town.
    “You’ve been talking about going back to work, haven’t you, Maggie?” Sylvia sent me a pointed glance.
    “Yes, but I really haven’t had time for—”
    “How about we kill two birds with one stone here?” Sylvia interrupted.
    “I’m going to get us some drinks.” Neil retreated to safer ground. I’d never accuse him of running away, but my husband is no fool. He probably didn’t want to get Sylvia’s blood spattered across his new suit.
    I opened my mouth to respond, but my boys chose that moment to tear through a crowd of people, who cursed and spilled their drinks.
    “Mom!” Josh squealed as he rushed forward. “She’s chasing us!”
    “Who?” I asked. Kenny collided into Josh. I caught them both and actually managed to keep my balance.
    “Her!” The boys pointed through the crowd. A beautiful, bare foot redhead in a chic, turquoise silk pants suit raced through the drawing room after my monsters. She carried sling back shoes in one perfectly manicured hand, slowed as she approached us, and seemed oblivious to the stares of the entire gathering. The men’s eyes widened with appreciation, while the women’s narrowed, murderous with disgust and envy.
    “Francesca!” Mrs. Kline snapped at the newcomer. “Your behavior is completely inappropriate. What on Earth do you think you are doing?”
    Francesca flipped a scarlet tress off her glistening forehead. “Having fun, Sandra. You should try it some time.” She turned her back on a seething Mrs. Kline and smiled at me.
    “Francesca Carmichael, but please call me Frannie.” She extended the hand that wasn’t clutching her shoes.
    “Maggie Phillips. I’m pleased to meet you, Frannie.”
    “Phillips?” Are you related to the beefcake with the stellar glutes?
    That would be Neil and his butt. I nodded. “He’s my husband.”
    Frannie didn’t look surprised in the slightest, which soothed my battered pride.
    “Your boys are adorable. I could eat them up.” She eyed me more closely. “They seem to take after your husband.”
    How right she was. “They’re his children from his first marriage.” Don’t ask me why I felt the need to clarify this. I’d raised Kenny from infancy and Josh from diapers, and in every way that counted, the boys belonged to me.
    Her smile appeared genuine and made her even more strikingly beautiful.
    Here’s the thing about gorgeous people. You can easily separate them into two categories. First, there are the nice ones, who will mingle with us mere mortals without condescension. They’re the types who are beautiful inside and out like a double-layer chocolate cake. Then, there are the attractive people who believe