Dating The Mrs. Smiths

Yeesh, I really was desperate.

“Hi. Come on in, and please look around,” I invited. “Don’t feel like you’re imposing, just take your time.”

I barely resisted the urge to tack on, And we have some lovely blue topaz earrings that would match your eyes, ma’am.

The four-year-old made a beeline for the refreshment table, only to be scolded by her father, at which point she burst into tears. The middle child, a boy wearing a black T-shirt and a scowl that made me recall every time my dad had ever teased, “Your face is gonna freeze like that,” declared, “I don’t like this house. It smells funny.”

I chose to believe that any odor came from the combined eight or nine perfumes and numerous arthritis relief creams of my guests.

The Realtor cleared his throat, meeting my gaze. “Um, kitchen’s this way, is it?”

I nodded, but they hadn’t yet turned the corner when there was a cry from the back of the house. The realty party froze in place as I strode toward the hallway.

Sara catapulted out of my room, screaming, “Snake!” She was moving with astounding speed for someone who had Dora the Explorer panties down around her knees beneath her denim skirt.

I met her halfway, scooping her up and probably giving her a wedgie as I hurriedly tugged her undies into proper place. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “But there’s a snake, Mommy!”

In all the time we’d lived in this house, we had never once had a snake in the house—if we did, Tom was smart enough not to tell me about it—so why now? Why today? This was way beyond simple Murphy’s Law. This was more like Murphy’s Magna Carta. I instinctively muttered a phrase under my breath that I sincerely hoped Sara hadn’t heard.

With Ben still at the back of the house, I jogged down the hall, not acknowledging the buzz of alarmed comments behind me. “Where was it?”

“In the bathroom.” Her voice was shaking. “I was sitting on the potty, singing ‘Catalina Madalina,’ and I looked down and seen it. Saw it.”

“Okay. I’ll take care of it.” How?

Maybe it was just a little bitty garden snake, the harmless kind that could be tossed outside. Not that I particularly wanted to get close enough for tossing, but as the only adult in the family, these things fell to me. And if it isn’t harmless?

Ignoring that thought, I lifted Ben out of his pen and set him down in the hallway, letting him crawl for freedom. Save yourself, son. Sara, dragging Ellie by the trunk, followed me so closely that if I stopped, she’d bang into me.

“Stay back,” I told her as I approached the master bath. When I glanced at her to make sure she understood I was serious, I saw that the Realtor and the family touring the house were all hovering in the bedroom doorway. The preteen daughter looked as if she might lose consciousness. The sullen boy was actually smiling now. Figured.

There was no closet in my bedroom, but the bathroom was spacious enough to make up for the deficiency—equipped with the standard toilet and sink vanity, a shower/garden-spa tub and a walk-in closet with its own lights. I’d better find the damn snake, because I didn’t relish wondering if it would slither out at me every time I opened the closet door for the next week.

The Realtor cleared his throat—a habit of his, I’d noticed. “So why again are you trying to get rid of this house?”

“We’re selling the house because I accepted a job in Boston,” I said, wondering what part of my tense body language made it look as if now were a swell time to chat. “Sara, where did you see it?”

“Under the sink. It’s green.” She was climbing up on my bed as she answered, her eyes wide.

Green. Most harmless garden snakes were green, right? I peeked into the room, my gaze coming to a screeching halt when I saw the thin green line across the tile, curling slightly. It was only a couple of inches long, but it disappeared beneath the edge of the vanity, so I wasn’t sure how much more there was. I executed a leap that would have qualified me for National Champion Long Jump status and then reached into my closet for a shoe box, dumping out a pair of strappy silver sandals I’d last worn to a holiday party with Tom.

As I crouched down to make the capture with shaking hands, I blinked, realizing the only reason I’d thought even for a millisecond that I was dealing with a snake was because I’d been told—by a hysterical six-year-old—to expect a snake.

Relief ballooned inside me. “Sara, there’s no reason to be scared. It’s just one of those lizards that are always getting into the house.”

At the sound of my voice, the gecko disappeared the rest of the way beneath the sink. I found out a moment later that he wasn’t the only one startled. I came out of the bathroom with a smile that vanished as soon as I saw the expression of the woman who’d been considering the house.

“Always getting in?” she asked, her face pasty.

“Cool,” her son said.

“Well, not always,” I amended, “but Florida does have a lot of lizards. They’re, um, good for eating the bugs.”

Her eyes darted from side to side, as if she expected giant winged insects to swoop down and carry her off. “The bugs?”

Somehow I got the impression these nice folks weren’t going to be making an offer this afternoon. Maybe now would be the time to see if I could send her on her way with a lovely parting purchase of earrings and matching pendant. But I never got the chance to ask because the doorbell rang.

If it was another real-estate agent, I was going to smack him in the head with his own cell phone…just as a gentle reminder to call ahead next time. But it was more likely to be one of the neighbors who had RSVPed that she might attend late. I opened the door with a cheerful, welcoming, “Hi!” and almost passed out on the spot.

My mother-in-law beamed at me. “Chahlie, deah!”

CHAPTER 4

Carrying a small suitcase in each hand, Rose Fiorello Smith swept into my house. A short woman with a solid build, dark bun and tidy appearance, she radiated authority despite her small stature. I wasn’t sure whether her entrance reminded me more of Mary Poppins or Napoleon.

“H-how did you get here?” I saw neither a flying umbrella nor mounted cavalry.

“Plane, rental car. Who are all these people? I hope it’s a packing party, you don’t look nearly ready to go. There they are, my beautiful babies!” She’d spotted her grandchildren, not that they were hard to pick out of the crowd since Sara was rushing toward us.

Ben hung back, quietly watchful in contrast to his sister’s running narrative.

“Nonna!” Sara tugged at the sleeve of Rose’s red blazer. “Come watch my movie with me. You can hear my favorite song, only we hafta rewind because I missed it when I went pee-pee and there was a snake in the bathroom. Mommy said a dirty word. I can’t say which one, because it was real bad.”

And there went all my motivation for ever encouraging Ben to talk.

“It wasn’t a snake, just a lizard,” I said. “Harmless gecko. Gone now. Um, Rose, can I offer you something to drink?”

With her eyebrows arched toward her dramatically white-streaked hairline, Rose moved farther into the house—a good thing, since the prospective buyers looked as if they would shove her out of the way to escape this loony bin.

Except for the boy. I distinctly heard him mutter, “Cool,” one last time as his parents hurried down our sidewalk. The Realtor followed, making assurances that the next home would better suit their needs.

“They were looking at the house,” I said weakly.

Rose drew the obvious conclusion. “I believe they’ve decided to pass. You know, dear, your living room would appear a lot more spacious if it weren’t full of folding chairs and whatnot.”

Mrs. Winslow glared at me. Apparently, I was testing the limits of her graciousness with the constant interruptions to her business venture.

“Rose, this is Gladys Winslow. We were in the middle of showing the ladies some of ZirStone’s fine merchandise. Mrs. Winslow, my mother-in-law, Rose Smith.”

The two women shook hands and Rose stepped forward, Sara still at her side. “Lovely to meet you. Would you mind if I took a look at those earrings, Gladys? Oh, these are fabulous. Do you take out-of-state checks? I hate to cut your party short, but I haven’t had the chance to visit with my grandchildren in almost a year. I’m sure you ladies understand. Oh, did you see this pendant?” she asked a woman sitting to her left. “It would be beautiful on you. Such a graceful neck.”

She somehow ushered my neighbors out of the house and made four sales for Gladys at the same time. “Did you see how this brooch is the same style as your bracelet, dear? You should splurge on yourself. We all should, before the busy holiday season starts and our time and energy is devoted to others. Goodbye, it was wonderful to have met you ladies.”

I just stared, belatedly moving into action as Gladys closed her jewelry case and turned to gather up her dishes. My business partner was whistling cheerfully when I shut the front door behind her. And then it was just me, Rose and the kids.

My mother-in-law was seated on the couch, Ben nestled in her lap as Sara sat next to her, showing off one of her favorite books. Rose glanced up with a reproachful smile. “If I’d known how much you needed my help, dear, I would have arrived sooner.”