Schuyler Square Day 134 Let's Start to Wrap This Thing Up

"I'm so glad that everything is back to normal again," Chelsea Van Husen told her husband Peter. She patted her very pregnant stomach and smiled up at him from her position on the couch. It felt so good to have Peter back home where he belonged. Chelsea had totally forgiven him for everything--leaving her when she was pregnant, having an affair with Mavis Schuyler, going through that long, weird period when he thought that he had been a teenaged murderer--after all, isn't that what a good wife did? Forgive?

"You are an amazing woman," Peter told her. "One in a million."

"And don't you forget it," Chelsea responded. A sharp pain made her gasp.

"What is it?"

"I don't know but I think it's time for Junior to make his appearance."

Instantly, Peter was on his feet. "I'll get the car. You call the doctor."

Chelsea picked up her cell phone, her heart pounding. Their baby was about to be born! Her heart beat even faster. At least she hoped it was their baby--suppose Peter wasn't the father? What would she do then? Was she morally obligated to tell him about her one night stand with his co-worker?

No way! Jim's dead and you're safe! Do not tell Peter anything about that horrible night of revenge sex!

Chelsea felt better. As long as the baby wasn't born with flaming red hair and black eyes--like the late Jim had and that would be nearly genetically impossible if Peter was the father--then she'd be fine. She drew a deep breath. Everything was going to be fine.

Peter reappeared in the doorway. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm ready to say hello to our son or daughter."

Peter's cell phone buzzed. "Yes? No, I can't. Not today. Chelsea's going to have the baby! I'll do it tomorrow."

"Who was that?" Chelsea asked when Peter was through.

"Work. I'm supposed to be investigating a complaint against that new chemical company on the north side of town but I'm not doing that today. You and I have more important things to take care of. Now let's go before you have our baby right here."

Chelsea nodded as another pain hit her. Their future--all three of them--was about to begin. She couldn't wait.

Schuyler Square Day 83 Chelsea is Very Forgiving

"I've decided what we should do," Peter Van Husen told his wife Chelsea. "I think you should have the baby and give it to Mavis and me to raise."

They were sitting in Chelsea's kitchen, once Peter and Chelsea's kitchen but now Chelsea's alone. Chelsea was surprised to see that Peter looked as if he no longer belonged in the room. She had decorated with a country motif and Peter, in his cashmere sweater,fancy slacks and expensive haircut looked decidedly out of place with her chicken patterned wallpaper.

Chelsea snorted. "I'd rather leave this baby in the woods and let wolves raise it before I let that happen. Are you serious? You think I'd let you and that Jezebel raise my child? What am I supposed to do while you two are playing Mommy and Daddy? Sell Amway?"

"Chelsea, be reasonable," Peter requested. "Mavis has more money than either you or I could ever dream of having. She could give this baby an exceptional life--private schools, ivy league college, vacations in Europe-what can you offer the baby except mediocrity at best?"

Chelsea was crushed. "That 'mediocrity' was enough for you for years and years," she reminded her estranged husband. "I don't recall either of us being born with silver spoons in our mouths and we turned out all right."

"You want that for this kid--just 'all right' when we could offer him the world on a string?"

"There's more to life than money, Peter."

"I know that. I also know that being rich is way more fun than being poor. Mavis has shown me that."

Chelsea looked at Peter. Since moving in with Mavis he'd put on weight and his face was puffy, his waistline a little paunchy. The lean, handsome man she remembered was looking more and more like a gigolo with every passing week but Chelsea forgave him for that. Once he moved back in with her, the gigolo look would fade along with all of his memories of being rich and locally famous by proxy. "Mavis Schuyler will never raise my child," she said flatly. "Not that she'd ever want to. Does she even know we're pregnant?"

Peter looked pained. "You're pregnant, not me."

"Well, I didn't get in this condition by myself." Chelsea felt her face suddenly flush as she recalled the one night stand of revenge sex she'd had with Peter's co-worker. There's no way anyone could be this baby's father but Peter. What are the odds that your five minute fling resulted in mommyhood? About a zillion to one.


"What do you want from me, Chelsea? I'm not coming back."

"Then I expect you to be there for our child. Even if you don't love me anymore, you still have a responsibility, Peter."

"I know that and I plan on being there for our child. It's just that you'd make it much simpler if you'd let me raise the baby in Schuyler Manor."

"So you think you're going to be staying there for the long haul?" Chelsea questioned. "I've heard that Mavis is seeing Mario Ponti. They were seen being quite chummy while he blew out her hair."

"Who the hell is Mario Ponti?"

"Only Schuyler Square's best hairdresser."

Peter frowned. "You mean that little guy who wears the red jumpsuits? You've got to be kidding He looks like a garden gnome!"

Chelsea enjoyed watching the irritation mount in Peter's face. "Mr. Mario is quite sexy," she informed him. "All the women have crushes on him but he's no dummy. He always goes for the ones with bucks--like Mavis."

Peter got to his feet. "I can see this conversation is going nowhere fast. Think about my offer, Chelsea. It won't be on the table forever." He stomped out of the back door. From her chair, Chelsea watched as he got into his truck and roared off. Patting her slightly rounded stomach she said in a soothing voice, "Not much longer, baby, and Daddy will come back to both of us."

Schuyler Square Day 72 Peter Is Not Thrilled

"How could you even ask me that?" Chelsea demanded. "I'm not the cheater in this marriage, Peter. That's a title you hold."

"How do I know that? For all I know you might have gone out and had a one-night stand as a sort of revenge thing."

Chelsea gulped. Had Peter bugged their kitchen and somehow heard her tell Veronica about her fling with Jim Waterston? She knew that Veronica would never betray her secret to Peter. "Is that what you think of me?" she managed to stammer. "That I'd go to some cheap, trashy bar, pick up one of your co-workers and allow him to impregnate me just to get back at you? Boy, do you have some ego!"

Peter's dark blue eyes narrowed. "Who said anything about a co-worker?"

"Nobody--but that's obviously what you were saying." Chelsea began to cry. "How could you think that of me?"

"Pull yourself together," Peter hissed at her. "You aren't at home."

"No, I'm at your home--your new home. But Peter, this baby is your baby and he or she is going to be living with me in our home and I'd like to know what you plan on doing about it!"

"Give me a few minutes to figure that out, Chelsea. You just dropped a major bombshell on me and I need time to regroup. I mean, obviously this wasn't in my plans."

"Obviously," Chelsea sniffled. "Obviously your plans revolve around living in this tacky mausoleum, getting some kind of allowance from that old bag cougar wannabe Mavis, and becoming an aging boy toy in cashmere socks. I never knew you were so shallow, Peter."

"Neither did I," Peter replied, "but once I tried shallow on for size I learned that it fit me like a glove."

Slowly Chelsea got to her feet. "You don't need to walk me out. Stay here and think about all your grand plans to get your teeth whitened and your dimple deepened. Better yet, figure out how you're going to tell your new sweetie that you're going to be a daddy! I won't keep you from our child, Peter, in spite of what you've done to me. A child needs a mother and a father and even though I'm sure you'll be a poor excuse as a paternal figure, you're all this child has." She waited for Peter respond but only got a blank, dead pigeon stare in return. "I'm leaving," she said.

"I'll be in touch." As she passed her husband on her way out of the room, Peter touched her arm. For a split second, Chelsea felt the smallest glimmer of hope. Maybe Peter would see how pointless it was for him to try and be a member of Schuyler Square's Jet Set. Maybe he'd come back to her and they'd be able to raise little Ashton or little Adele together, the way they were supposed to. The glimmer faded when Peter stared at her like she'd just arrived from Mars with some very bad news.

"Don't tell anyone yet," he requested. "About the baby, I mean. Anything can happen, you know."

"Drop dead," Chelsea responded. She was almost to the front door when she heard footsteps descending the grand staircase. Mavis Schuyler, wearing a ridiculous gold brocade dressing gown and high heeled gold slippers, walked down the stairs toward her. If Peter had looked at her like she was from Mars, Mavis looked at her like she was a fungus that had just popped up from between the cracks in black and white tiles. "What do you want?" Mavis asked quite ungraciously.

"To speak to my husband but don't worry, I'm leaving."

Chelsea stormed out of Schuyler Manor wishing with all her heart that whoever had kidnapped Mavis had kept her permanently.