Schuyler Square Day 26 What Happened When the Lights Went Out?

Roseanne pulled the last French silk pie out of the oven and set it carefully on her countertop. It was the fourth pie she’d baked since getting home from the Schuyler’s and she was exhausted.

“Good. The power’s not off. It went out on the other side of town and I thought we might have lost ours too. What smells so great?” Roseanne’s husband Mike came into the kitchen, a jacket thrown over one shoulder. Mike had been working long days too for the lawn care business he helped run. It almost broke Roseanne’s heart to see how exhausted he looked. She could hardly wait until the day when they were both working for themselves. Then at least their exhaustion would count for something. “French silk? What’s the occasion?”

“They’re for a baby shower,” Roseanne explained. “Chelsea Van Husen ordered them.” She sat down in a kitchen chair. She was exhausted too. Mavis Schuyler had been in a real snit that day and had been even more demanding and irritating than usual, which was saying a lot.

“Chelsea Van Husen’s having a baby? Her marriage must be back on track then.”

“Women don't give baby showers for themselves! They’re for a co-worker of Chelsea's.”

Mike sat down next to Roseanne and helped himself to some of the apple strudel that she’d baked earlier. “I wish Peter would stop being such a jerk and would figure out what a good woman he has in Chelsea.”

“I know. It's all so sordid.” It made Roseanne sick to witness the affair that was happening practically under her nose. Thank God Mavis and Peter no longer met at the Schuyler house. Ever since that close call with Tyler they’d been a little more discreet. “Chelsea’s so nice and Mavis is such a…”

“Witch,” Mike supplied for her. “I don’t get it either, hon. He’s throwing away a good thing on a woman who is as cold as ice.”

“I suppose everyone in town knows about it by now.”

“Everyone but Ron Schuyler and Chelsea,” Mike agreed.

“I’d like to hit Mavis Schuyler over the head with something nice and heavy,” Roseanne remarked as she took a slice of strudel.

"Somehow I don't think you're the only one who feels that way," Mike said.


 Across town, Mavis sat in her darkened motel room, clutching the scratchy low thread count sheet to her throat, waiting for another sound to come. Although she wasn’t the kind of woman who was normally afraid of anything, being naked and alone in a cheap motel did something to her courage meter—like totally crashed it. The sound came again, a crunching noise that was accompanied by the rusty squeak the window screen being pulled open.

Mavis's heart thundered in her chest. It was just like that movie with Barbara Stanwyck—the one where she was all alone in the house and a murderer was climbing the stairs and Barbara was too scared to get out of bed and scream her fool head off.

Well, Mavis Schuyler wasn’t afraid. Throwing off the covers, she grabbed her clothes and ran for the door.

Unfortunately for Mavis, she didn’t quite make it.