Bitsy stayed the night at Maggie's on Friday and Jon was going out with his friends. He did his laundry and packed his bag for our trip before he left, but I needed to wash for Bitsy and me and then pack for us too. I had a hamper full of clothes and was almost to Reed's front door when a shiny, very expensive car pulled up. It didn't take any imagination at all to figure out who the impeccably dressed woman stepping out after the driver opened the door was.
Oh my hell.
The glare she gave me should have turned me to stone. I looked about the same way that I had when Reed surprised me when he showed up Sunday. Mrs. Tyler could have stepped from a fashion magazine. Every died-brown hair in place, her skirt and blouse perfectly adorned with refined jewelry, and her face having been through subtle tightening, so, God forbid, no wrinkles marred her well-moisturized skin. I stood waiting for the attack.
