Not the Usual Suspect

Not the Usual Suspect

When I pulled into our driveway a day early from my business trip, I glimpsed a black Ford pick-up parked beneath the budding willow. At first, I thought it must be Bill's.  He often came home in a different Ford every week since he is the manager at the Ford dealership across town, but I noticed the license plate read LEEANN.  My heart skipped a beat when I pulled into the garage and let the electronic door close with a whisper behind me.

Bill's job, while I was gone, was to hire a housekeeper.  My usual greeting when I come home from a trip is a heaping stack of dirty dishes in the sink, and a mountainous pile of smelly clothing that lurks everywhere.  I hoped he’d made a decision that would make me very happy.

I smiled to myself as the smell of sizzling fried chicken wafted through the air.  Bill and I, of course, would be cheating on our dull diets.  We are accustomed to keeping the freezer stocked with pop and go, or take-out.  Neither of us have much time to prepare meals with our busy schedules.  My heels echoed off the hardwood floors when I walked through the foyer. "Is that you, Bill?"  A gravelly female voice called from the kitchen.

"Not unless Bill wears pearls and lipstick," I joked.  I clicked through the hallway and confronted the voice.  A very large-boned young woman wearing cutoff denim shorts, snug yellow tank top, and red cowboy boots stood staring at me with wide blue eyes.  A bandanna with the words Confederate Railroad covered curly locks of bottle-red hair.  Her full round face was punctuated with large nostrils.  The Miss Piggy face stared at me with a deer caught-in-the-headlights expression.

I glanced around and noticed the table set for two.  A bottle of vino was the center piece.  "Hi, I'm Meredith Morgan."  Miss Piggy didn't respond. "So, you must be Leeann."  I said, nodding in the direction of the pick-up.  Still nothing, but I continued.  "Is Bill here?"

"Um...not yet."  A buzzer sounded from the stove.  Leeann turned and switched something off.  Next, she pulled on an oven-mitt that was not mine.  It was hot pink and shaped like a pig and slid two baked potatoes from the oven.  She plucked at the foil and then gently squeezed the potatoes, seemingly to test their doneness. 
         
I lifted lids from various pots and witnessed textures I'd never eaten.  "This all smells very delicious.  You must have spent a lot of time shopping and cooking."  I was awed by our good fortune.  I couldn’t stop smiling.

"Thank you."

"When did you say Bill would be home?"

"Any minute.  Maybe I should go now."  She moved to retrieve her oven mitt and began turning off the burners.

"No! Stay. You went to so much trouble. I'll just freshen up." 

I slipped off my shoes and climbed the carpeted stairs to the bedroom.  The bed was made.  No clothes in the bathroom.  Yes.  This was going to be great.

A plastic cosmetic bag that was not mine sat open on the vanity.  It held mascara, blue eye shadow, orangey lipstick, and a small atomizer of Tabu perfume.  I took a sniff.  The fragrance was indeed taboo.

Lying down on the cool satin comforter, I thought how romantic it was of Bill to have Leeann come over and surprise me with dinner and a tidy house.  She sure was a big girl and didn’t dress very conventional, but, in my opinion, worth whatever we were paying her.  Bill can be such a sweetheart, however, the Tabu annoyed me.  I smelled it everywhere - as if I was wearing it.

At the sound of a car door slamming, I leapt to the open window and saw Bill carrying a bouquet of flowers behind his back and a six-pack.  I ran a brush through my hair and practiced my happy smile in the mirror because I truly dislike red carnations.

Descending the stairs in my bare feet to surprise Bill, I heard Leeann's excited whispering, then a male groan.  I stood in the doorway.  It was my turn to be startled.  Bill and Leeann were locked in a lover's embrace.
                   
Leeann's audible whisper stung.  "The witch is back...and she’s hungry."