set out a breakfast buffet for the rest of the family on a side board in the breakfast nook: the doughnuts, milk and juice cartons in ice buckets, the coffee maker ever ready with hot coffee, and a bowl of fruit. He stood back, admired his cookery, re-entered the kitchen and began planning an elaborate salad buffet because Agnes expected guests for lunch.
Since Agnes was the only one who could be depended upon to eat lunch at home, Mark had soon discovered that the easiest way to satisfy everyone was to set out soup and sandwiches, made from leftovers of the previous night’s dinner, unless Agnes instructed otherwise. If the others wanted to eat at home, fine, if not, then no harm was done. The rest of his day was spent planning and preparing dinner. The job was relatively easy, even fun and creative, and, best of all, Agnes paid a ridiculous sum for the prestige of employing an “authentic” French chef. Just how long the job would last depended in part on how long Agnes could be fooled. What her reaction would be if she did find out didn’t worry Mark. At any rate, Kevin had said that he would handle that eventuality.
Around ten o’clock, Bernie wandered into the empty breakfast nook, poured herself a cup of coffee, adding great dollops of real cream and spoonful after spoonful of sugar, and picked up a couple of doughnuts. Armed with sugar, caffeine, and cholesterol she slowly made her way outside to the patio where Audrey was reclining in the early summer sunshine, enjoying a hot mug of black coffee.
“Goodness, Bernie, how do you stay so skinny with all those calories?”
“Huh? When I’m hungry, I got to eat,” she replied as she sank into the cushiony comfort of a patio chair. Bernie had gone hungry most of her young life. Living at Henley House and indulging in Mark’s rich cuisine, or so it seemed to her, had introduced her to a way of life, especially regarding food, she had never dreamed possible.
“But how do you stay so skinny?” Audrey repeated. “You’re always eating and you never do anything like exercise to keep the weight off.” Audrey thought that Bernie was the laziest person she had ever met. She didn’t do anything except lounge around all day or go shopping. “I mean, at least Penny and I take long walks. Agnes works in the garden, although she’s still fat. Kevin swims everyday. What I’m trying to say is, well, we all have some kind of exercise regimen.”
“I swim,” Bernie stated defiantly.
“You float. I’ve never seen you swim a stroke.”
“Well, maybe. But I like to dive in. You know, take a running jump.”
“Yes, I’m sure that explains your slim physique,” retorted Audrey sarcastically.
“What about Lester? He’s skinny and he doesn’t do anything.”
“Yes, that’s true, but he doesn’t eat as much as you either.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve seen him eat pizza until he almost passes out.”
Both women laughed then fell silent for a few minutes. Audrey wondered if being a newlywed contributed to Bernie’s metabolism. All that sexual energy. She smiled as she contemplated how Agnes would react if someone mentioned to her that Bernie stayed slim because of sex with Kevin.
Bernie sat staring at the pool. Suddenly an idea occurred to her. Would it be possible to push Agnes in and hold her under until she drowned?
“Does Agnes ever go swimming?” she asked.
Audrey raised an eyebrow. “Why on earth do you want to know that?”
“Oh, I was just thinking how funny she’d probably look in a bathing suit,” Bernie replied innocently.
“Grotesque is more like it. No, I haven’t seen her swim in years, not since her weight gain.”
“You mean she wasn’t always fat?”
“Oh no, far from it.”
“So, she does know how to swim?”
“More or less. As kids, we used to swim here at Aunt Hilda’s. The Briars were among the first families to have a swimming pool. It was a prestige thing.”
“Wow!”
Audrey wondered
Since Agnes was the only one who could be depended upon to eat lunch at home, Mark had soon discovered that the easiest way to satisfy everyone was to set out soup and sandwiches, made from leftovers of the previous night’s dinner, unless Agnes instructed otherwise. If the others wanted to eat at home, fine, if not, then no harm was done. The rest of his day was spent planning and preparing dinner. The job was relatively easy, even fun and creative, and, best of all, Agnes paid a ridiculous sum for the prestige of employing an “authentic” French chef. Just how long the job would last depended in part on how long Agnes could be fooled. What her reaction would be if she did find out didn’t worry Mark. At any rate, Kevin had said that he would handle that eventuality.
Around ten o’clock, Bernie wandered into the empty breakfast nook, poured herself a cup of coffee, adding great dollops of real cream and spoonful after spoonful of sugar, and picked up a couple of doughnuts. Armed with sugar, caffeine, and cholesterol she slowly made her way outside to the patio where Audrey was reclining in the early summer sunshine, enjoying a hot mug of black coffee.
“Goodness, Bernie, how do you stay so skinny with all those calories?”
“Huh? When I’m hungry, I got to eat,” she replied as she sank into the cushiony comfort of a patio chair. Bernie had gone hungry most of her young life. Living at Henley House and indulging in Mark’s rich cuisine, or so it seemed to her, had introduced her to a way of life, especially regarding food, she had never dreamed possible.
“But how do you stay so skinny?” Audrey repeated. “You’re always eating and you never do anything like exercise to keep the weight off.” Audrey thought that Bernie was the laziest person she had ever met. She didn’t do anything except lounge around all day or go shopping. “I mean, at least Penny and I take long walks. Agnes works in the garden, although she’s still fat. Kevin swims everyday. What I’m trying to say is, well, we all have some kind of exercise regimen.”
“I swim,” Bernie stated defiantly.
“You float. I’ve never seen you swim a stroke.”
“Well, maybe. But I like to dive in. You know, take a running jump.”
“Yes, I’m sure that explains your slim physique,” retorted Audrey sarcastically.
“What about Lester? He’s skinny and he doesn’t do anything.”
“Yes, that’s true, but he doesn’t eat as much as you either.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve seen him eat pizza until he almost passes out.”
Both women laughed then fell silent for a few minutes. Audrey wondered if being a newlywed contributed to Bernie’s metabolism. All that sexual energy. She smiled as she contemplated how Agnes would react if someone mentioned to her that Bernie stayed slim because of sex with Kevin.
Bernie sat staring at the pool. Suddenly an idea occurred to her. Would it be possible to push Agnes in and hold her under until she drowned?
“Does Agnes ever go swimming?” she asked.
Audrey raised an eyebrow. “Why on earth do you want to know that?”
“Oh, I was just thinking how funny she’d probably look in a bathing suit,” Bernie replied innocently.
“Grotesque is more like it. No, I haven’t seen her swim in years, not since her weight gain.”
“You mean she wasn’t always fat?”
“Oh no, far from it.”
“So, she does know how to swim?”
“More or less. As kids, we used to swim here at Aunt Hilda’s. The Briars were among the first families to have a swimming pool. It was a prestige thing.”
“Wow!”
Audrey wondered
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