"Isn't that something about that Schuyler woman?" Chelsea Van Husen plunked a plate loaded with bacon, sausages, fried eggs and hash browns in front of her husband.
Peter stared at the approximately one billion grams of cholesterol in front of him. Sometimes he thought Chelsea was trying to kill him very slowly by clogging his arteries. It would be the perfect murder even if it would take her a decade or so to reach her goal. "Yeah, it's great. Um, Chelsea, I'm really not in the mood for quite so much food. Don't we have any oatmeal?"
"Oatmeal?" Chelsea stared at him as if he'd just suggested he have a bowl of hot rocks for breakfast. "You don't like oatmeal."
"As a matter of fact, I do. You know that Dr. Cooper thinks I should cut back on fat."
"Oh, that's ridiculous," Chelsea said. "What does Dr. Cooper know? More than your wife? Besides, we don't have any oatmeal."
"All right," Peter sighed, reluctantly picking up a fork. He'd eat a third of what Chelsea had piled on his plate and then stop.
"So isn't it amazing that Mavis Schuyler was locked in some old guy's tool shed? I hear she just about gave him a heart attack when he found her. It must have been quite a shock for him to open the tool shed door to get his lawn mower and finding a well dressed woman standing next to a bag of potting soil."
"Uh huh," Peter agreed as he started to work on the hash browns. They were excellent but that didn't surprise him. Chelsea was a fantastic cook. He looked over at his wife and noticed that she was sipping a cup of black coffee. "Aren't you having any breakfast?"
"I'm trying to lose a few pounds. I don't have an active job like you do. What's the buzz at the station? Who do they think kidnapped Mavis Schuyler?"
"No one has a clue." Peter really didn't want to talk about Mavis with his wife. He didn't want to think about Mavis while sitting at the breakfast table with Chelsea across from him. It made him feel even guiltier than he already did, something that he hadn't thought was humanly possible.
"What's she like, anyway?" Chelsea asked. "I know you've been working with her on the Policeman's Ball thing so you must be getting pretty close to her."
"Close?" Peter could feel his face turning the color of an overripe tomato. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you must know her pretty well by now."
"I wouldn't say that. We're just working together, Chelsea. That's all." Peter pushed his plate away, unable to take another bite. "I've got to get going."
"All right. I'll see you later."
Peter realized he was covered with a cold film of sweat when he walked out of his kitchen, leaving his wife and her questions behind. Truthfully, he didn't know if he wanted to stay married to Chelsea. His affair with Mavis had made him realize that there was a part of him that he might like being single again. But he didn't want to hurt his wife and he didn't want her to ever find out about what had gone on between him and Mavis. Hopefully, she never would.
The ache in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise.
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