“He is handsome, isn’t he? And a widower, if Wikipedia is to be believed.”
“Look, there’s no way I’m allowing my granddaughter to hook up with this guy, so just get those sordid thoughts out of your head right now.”
“Oh, all right,” said Scarlett. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”
“I’m putting an end to this right now,” she said, and got busy typing a strongly worded message, adding the video and the pictures she shot as evidence. “There,” she said. “Now let’s see her ignoring her duties as a wife and mother now.”
Not to mention a pet parent. What was she thinking, dragging those impressionable cats along to her date with a billionaire? Didn’t she know that setting a bad example like that could scar those precious little dears for life?
“If this family didn’t have me,” she said, taking her position at the table again, “God knows what kind of trouble they’d get into.”
CHAPTER 10
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
Marge Poole was assisting her husband in the backyard, weeding and removing dead leaves and heads from their precious flowers. She was outfitted for the occasion with rubber gardening gloves, her straw gardening hat and her gardening boots, and as the sun shone down on her back, she felt intensely satisfied when she regarded her work: the flowerbed that had been infested by weeds and bugs and whatnot once again looked vividly colorful and full of life—the kind of life your amateur gardener likes to see: absolutely devoid of pests.
“So what do you think, honey?” asked her husband, who was manicuring his herbaceous border until it looked fit for duty.
“About what?” she asked, taking a firmer grip on her little trowel.
“Well, Ted’s idea about the landscaper.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Is it really worth the expense? I mean, we only have a very modest little garden, so I don’t think a landscaper will have enough to work with, let alone a gardener.”
“But we could join forces, us and the Trappers: get rid of that hedge and join our two backyards into one big one.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” she said as she dug her trowel into the earth. “That hedge is there for a reason. It’s so we can have some privacy, and so can the Trappers. Otherwise what’s the point of having your own backyard? We could just as well cut down all the hedges and all the fences in the entire neighborhood and create a park.”
“Now why didn’t I think of that?” said Tex. “We should create one big park where all the kids could play! And then I could organize a barbecue for the entire neighborhood! Now wouldn’t that be fun?”
She gave her husband a skeptical look, which passed right over his head.“Let’s give it some more thought, shall we?” she suggested. Most of her husband’s more harebrained ideas rarely survived a couple of days’ serious reflection. Once Tex saw how impractical his idea was, he forgot all about it. Besides, she liked to do some sunbathing in her backyard from time to time, and if they cut down that hedge, that would be a thing of the past. No woman likes to sunbathe with the Ted Trappers of this world breathing down their neck.
Her phone buzzed, alerting her that a message had arrived, and she took it out of the front pocket of her gardening coveralls. When she saw the first line of the message, she frowned.‘Evidence of YOUR daughter’s CHEATING WAYS!!!!!!’
“Now what?” she murmured. At the same time, her husband’s phone also dinged, and for a moment they both studied the message Ma had sent. Then they turned to face each other, their mouths agape.
“I don’t believe this,” said Tex.
“Neither do I,” Marge agreed.
But there it was, clear as day: video and pictures of their one and only daughter, her arms around famous billionaire Edward Dexter, clearly having an intimate moment!
Just then, Grace made a gurgling sound. The little girl had been safely ensconced in her playpen, which Marge had placed on the terrace for the occasion, with a big umbrella to shade the little one from the sun.
“Oh, dear,” said Marge as she brought a distraught hand to her face. “What’s going to become of Grace now?!”
CHAPTER 11
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
“Okay, Rufus, it’s very important that you do exactly as I say.” Harriet gave the sheepdog a hard look, hoping her words would penetrate the big dog’s sluggish brain. “There’s a certain routine we need to nail down, and when I say nail, I do mean you’ll have to nail it if you want to stand a chance at winning that gold cup.”
“Gold cup?” said Rufus. “I thought being selected Best in Show came with a year’s supply of Dog Snax?”
“Yes, it does, but more importantly, you will take home that very beautiful and very coveted gold cup.”
Rufus gave her a look of confusion.“Now what do I want with a gold cup?”
“You can put it on your mantelpiece,” said Harriet, trying to hold onto her equanimity. Now she understood why all the dog trainers she’d seen on YouTube all looked old and gray. Dealing with dogs took a lot of patience, which was wearing really thin by now. “It’s all about the honor,” she said, when Rufus still didn’t get it. “You want to make your humans proud, don’t you?”
“Well, sure,” said Rufus.
“So? That cup will make Ted and Marcie very happy. They’ll be able to show it off to their friends and family.”
“And that’s what makes them happy? Being able to show off a gold cup?”
“Of course. Humans love to show off to other humans. It’s one of their favorite pastimes. They buy cars so they can show them off to the neighbors. Clothes to show off to their colleagues. Husbands to show off to their friends. Wives to show off to their golf buddies. That’s why they call it a trophy wife. Now let’s take it from the top. You have to jump over that hurdle, and make sure you don’t trip.”
They’d selected one of Ted’s hideous gnomes as a standin for the first hurdle in the concourse, and if Rufus managed to clear it in one go, he just might stand a chance. So far he hadn’t been able to, but they still had plenty of time. The competition was next Saturday, which should be a cinch… for a talented dog.
“Such a pity that Fifi couldn’t join us,” said Brutus, who was Harriet’s co-trainer. “It would have been nice if Rufus and Fifi could have trained together.”
“Fifi decided she didn’t need our services,” said Harriet with a touch of hauteur. “So if she doesn’t make it into the competition, it’s her own fault.”
“I know, but maybe one of us should go over there and try to talk to her again. It might give Rufus a boost. Just look how unhappy the big guy looks.”
They both eyed the big sheepdog with a critical eye, and Harriet had to admit her partner was correct: Rufus did look a little lethargic. Even as he approached the big gnome, his heart didn’t seem to be in it. And as he jumped, trying to clear the hurdle, once again he managed to topple the thing.
“You have to take a running leap!” Harriet yelled. “How many times do I have to tell you!” Shaking her head, she stalked over to her inept pupil, and proceeded to put the gnome upright again. “Yuck, it’s slimy,” she said as she quickly removed her paw from the monstrosity.
“It’s the snails,” said Rufus sadly. “They have been crawling all over the garden, sliming everything. It’s driving Ted and Marcie crazy.”
“Okay, let’s try again,” said Harriet, the fate of her neighbors’ backyard not of any concern to her. “And this time I want to see some energy! Some vigor!”
“Yes, Harriet,” said Rufus with a deep sigh, and slouched off to give it another shot.
No, his heart clearly wasn’t in it. And so with the quickness of decision that was typical of her, she decided that Brutus was right, and that Fifi had to be conciliated, whatever the cost.
“Brutus, better go and apologize to Fifi,” she said therefore. “And tell her to join us.”