Wexter Estate 10:54 a. m.
...
"I'm warning you, Peter! I will shove my slippers right up your manhole!"
Her neighbor, Margret, was screaming at her half-naked husband in the middle of the street. Divorce papers in hand, she looked ready to set the entire neighborhood on fire.
Peter, on the other hand, clutched his new fling like she was a trophy, insisting he was a "changed man."
Changed? The woman had only been gone two days. That man couldn't keep his zipper shut if his life depended on it.
"Kids," Kathleen said from the driver's seat, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Close your eyes."
But Jason kept his brown eyes open, watching the scene with fascination.
"Mommy?" He piped up from the back.
"Yes, baby?"
"What's a manhole?"
Kathleen almost drove the car into the mailbox. Try explaining that to a five-year-old. Was she supposed to say butthole? Sewer drain? Or a man cave?
"It's, uh… something boys crawl into when they want to hide," she muttered.
Jason grinned. "Cool."
Sighing, Kathleen pulled into their driveway. Even from here, she could still hear Margret hurling creative insults at Peter and his mistress. If there was one thing she admired about that woman, it was her ability to curse politely.
The triplets bolted out of the car the second they stopped, leaving her with the groceries. Typical. Linda, their nanny, came to fetch Hazel from the back seat, but when it came to the bags, she mysteriously forgot her arms existed.
By the time she dropped the groceries on the kitchen counter, her shoulders were burning. She paused, staring toward the living room window where Margret's shrieks still reverberated faintly.
That was Midtown Wexter for you.
Every housewife here had a story; divorces, cheating partners, infertility, or worse. They called it fate. Others said it was the curse of marrying into fame.
And yet… Kathleen was supposed to be the happiest woman in this neighborhood. Married to Wesley Hills, famous actor, proud mother of three. She was practically living the dream.
At least, that's what everyone told her.
She was still lost in my thoughts when her phone buzzed against the onyx. The screen lit up with a familiar name.
"Dad?" She answered quickly, pressing the phone to her ear.
"Kitty," her father's voice came through, it sounded warm but tired. "How are you, sweetheart? And how are my grandbabies?"
Kathleen smiled faintly at the nickname. He had called her Kitty ever since she was born, a relic of her mother's obsession with kittens during pregnancy.
Back then, he had even joked about naming her Cat. But her mother preferred Kathleen. It was one of those strange, harmless stories she never quite shook off.
"They're fine, Dad," she said, though her voice dropped softer. She could already sense where this call was headed.
A pause stretched across the line, filled with a faint background shuffle that told her he was probably pacing the cramped apartment.
Finally, he cleared his throat. "I went to see your mother yesterday. She's stable. The doctors say she's holding well."
"That's good." She exhaled, but it wasn't relief—it was an ache. Relief was never permanent with her mother's condition.
"And Kitty…" His voice lowered in a hesitant tone, like he was choosing each word carefully. "Have you had the chance to speak with your husband about… you know. Helping me. Maybe getting me an audition. Just one chance. That's all I need."
Kathleen closed her eyes, bracing against the familiar sting. "Dad, Wesley's been so busy on set. When he comes home, he's exhausted. I don't want to bother him right away."
The sigh on the other end was long and dragging. It made her wince.
So she rushed to add, "But I'll talk to him soon. I promise."
"Ah, Kitty. If Wesley asks you to do anything in return, you do it. Once I get a role, once my career takes off, you won't have to depend on him anymore. You could even… leave, if you wanted."
Her brows knitted. "What makes you think I'm not happy with Wesley?"
"I only thought… because of the way his mother treats you. That woman, she—"
"Dad," she interrupted, firmer than intended. "I'm fine. Wesley loves me. His mother still thinks I'm a gold digger, but once she sees how much I love her son, once she sees me for who I really am, everything will change."
There was another silence, broken only when he muttered, "If you say so, Kitty. Still… I'll work hard for you and the family. I'll make you proud."
She gave a small laugh, it sounded weak but it was affectionate. "Take care of yourself, Dad. And I'll tell the kids you called."
"Please do. Tell them their grandpa loves them."
"I will." She hung up before he could hear the heaviness in her breathing.
The bread and fillings still sat on the counter. Shaking her head clear, she assembled sandwiches for her children, cutting them into little triangles just the way they liked.
Jason, Leo, and Hazel ran into the kitchen when she called. Their voices overlapped as they demanded "me first" in chorus.