What Do You Think Marriage is All About?

"Bernard, we need to talk." Mindy Cooper made her voice sound strong even though inside she was quaking. Bernard still had that effect on her--a leftover from being her boss, she supposed. Actually, he still was her boss. Until they were officially husband and wife, Mindy was continuing in her position as Bernard's administrative assistant, not because she wanted to but because Bernard didn't want to train in a new secretary until after they returned from their honeymoon."

Bernard looked up from the issue of Men's Health he was reading. "All right," he said. "Talk."

"There are a few things you should know about me," she said, nervously rolling the hem of her shirt between her fingers.

"Would you sit down? You look like a schoolgirl who is about to get yelled at by the principal. I bet Sandi would never act that way."

Mindy stopped rolling the hem of her shirt between her fingers. "Sandi? How would you know how my sister would act in any situation? You barely know her."

"No, but I can tell that she's not afraid of anything or anyone. I admire that in a woman."

"I'll try to remember that in the future," Mindy said as she sat down next to her fiance. "I haven't been totally honest with you. When I first applied for my job at Kutrate Kemicals, I was working as a reporter for the Schuyler Square Times. I wanted to work for you to investigate your company."

Bernard's eyes dropped back to his magazine. "So did you find anything out that will nab you the Pulitzer?"

"Well, I did learn about Fat Off."

"Big deal. Fat Off is dead in the water. Anything else?"

"Not really."

"Sorry to disappoint you. Do you plan on going back to the paper now?"

"I'd thought about it..." Mindy didn't get it. Bernard wasn't acting at all like she'd expected him to act. She thought he'd be outraged, furious enough to possibly break their engagement. Was that what I wanted? Is that why I'm telling him about how I deceived him before we get married? Do I really, really, really not want to marry Bernard?

"You should," Bernard said, interrupting her self-analysis. "Being a reporter is a dying job but it does have more cache than being my secretary. The Schuyler Square Times, huh? I never read it."

"Bernard, doesn't it bother you that I lied to you?"

"Not really. Everyone lies in relationships."

"Are you telling me that you've lied to me?"

Bernard laughed. "Mindy, what do you think marriage is all about?"

Feeling sick to her stomach, Mindy left the room. Although her wedding to Bernard was a week away, there was still time to get out of it. It would mean giving up a lavish life of leisure, a handsome husband and great health insurance but on the other hand it might be her only choice. Life as Mrs. Bernard Morton might be a lot worse than simply being his Girl Friday.

Schuyler Square Day 106 That Was Weird

"That was weird," Mike Olson remarked to his wife as they drove toward their house on the opposite side of Schuyler Square.

Rosanne sighed. "Everything that's been happening lately has been weird to me. I also think that everything connected with that house is weird--Peter, Mary Austin, the Coopers moving out so quickly. I don't like it, Mike. I don't like it one bit." She didn't add that she also didn't like her personal memories connected to the late Mary Austin, memories that included resentment mixed with a healthy sprinkling of good old-fashioned jealousy. She didn't want to speak ill of the dead but Mary Austin had been something of a tramp who seemed to be unable to keep her large, crystal blue eyes focused on anything but married men.

"What do you mean?" Mike questioned.

"You know darn well what I mean. I mean I'm not sure if I want to move into that house that you bought without telling me!"

Mike drove in silence for several blocks. Finally, he said, "I got a good deal, Rosanne. A very good deal. It's a beautiful house in a great location. I know there's a history attached to it but we can get over that."

"You didn't even ask me," Rosanne mumbled.

"I wanted to surprise you. You know, we've never had a lot of money and we've always had to live in houses that weren't that great. Ever since we got married I wanted to buy you a nice house because that's what you deserve. This house is a nice house. That's why I bought it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you but I thought it would be fun to give you something big and beautiful and astonishing for a change instead of something pathetic like a toaster."

Rosanne's eyes filled with tears. Maybe she was being silly. Maybe her negative memories about Mike and Mary Austin were nothing but insecure fantasies. Mike reached over and took her hand. "I promise that you can do all the decorating. I won't say a word if you want to paint the whole house pink with lavender trim."

"It will be nice to have more space," Rosanne admitted.

"It will be nice to live on the lake too." Mike pulled into their driveway and Rosanne looked at the too small house with affection and a little disdain. They'd outgrown their current home years ago. "And the kids will like it too. Since they're obviously never moving away, this will be good for all of us."

"I wonder what it is that Peter Van Husen left in our new house twenty years ago," Rosanne mused.

Shrugging, Mike climbed out of his truck. "We'll find out when he comes over to get it, I guess."

Schuyler Square Day 102 Chelsea Wants Peter Back

Chelsea Van Husen had had enough! She was thoroughly sick and tired of Peter ignoring her and acting like she'd somehow gotten pregnant by herself. She was also tired of having her husband live with another woman while she sat in their home and tried to figure out things like what she was supposed to do when the dishwasher started making a funny noise or how to get rid of the mailman when he got a little too flirty. It was all too much. Too too much.

Chelsea made herself another tomato sandwich and poured a fourth glass of chocolate milk to go with it. She was eating for two, after all. She might as well enjoy it because there didn't seem to be much else that she was enjoying in her life at the moment.

A flutter occurred somewhere in her stomach and Chelsea suddenly stopped chewing. The baby! It was the first time she'd felt him or her move!

Oh my gosh--this is really happening to me!


Chelsea touched her slightly bulging stomach and waited for the butterfly kick again. There! It happened once more and her eyes filled with tears. There was a baby inside her, a baby who was going to be born and have everything a child should have, like a happy home, good, nutritious food and loving parents.

The smile slowly faded from her face. How was she going to make that happen, given the dismal state of her marriage? Peter had made it quite plain that he was about as interested in getting back together with her as Cher might be in getting back with Gregg Allman. Darn that Mavis Schuyler anyway. This was all her fault.

Chelsea waited a few more seconds to see if the baby moved again but when nothing happened she picked up her tomato sandwich and took a large bite. Clearly she needed to do something but what that something might be was beyond her.

As she ate she thought about the seance she'd attended the other night. Steve and Dee Dee were so cute together. She'd love to have a relationship like the two of them shared. If Peter would just come to his senses she'd forgive him for leaving her. She'd even pretend it never happened. Not many women would be so understanding. Chelsea wondered if Peter realized just how generous she was being.

She also wondered if he realized just how pregnant she was getting. They hadn't seen each other in weeks, not since before she started showing. Maybe she'd go over to Schuyler Manor and see her estranged husband. It wasn't like she didn't have a right to see him. She was still his wife.

"I know!" Chelsea sat upright in her chair. Her dog, Freckles, leaped to his feet. "I know, Freckles! I'll go over and tell Peter what happened at the seance--about how the Ouija board said that someone living at Schuyler Manor killed Mary Austin! Is that the perfect excuse to see my husband or what?"

Freckles looked disappointed that Chelsea wasn't offering him part of her sandwich and sank to the floor. Chelsea smiled fondly at the dog, feeling much better. All Peter needed was to see her again, to see how their child was growing inside of her. All Peter needed was to give their marriage a second chance and Chelsea was more than willing to help him see that. Her mood vastly improved, Chelsea got to her feet and went to the cupboard to find something for dessert.

Schuyler Square Day 36 Chelsea and Peter

"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.

Schuyler Square Day 18 Ron Isn't Feeling Too Well

Ron Schuyler was pretty sure that he was aging faster than the average man in his fifties ought to be aging, which struck him as totally unfair. What was the point in being rich if it couldn’t guarantee him at the very least a healthy, stress-free middle age? But that didn’t seem to be in the cards for Ron, especially since the arrival of Veronica Channing in Schuyler Square. And now her son.

Correction: their son.

The pain in Ron’s stomach increased. It was probably an ulcer but he was in no mood to have it checked out and hear from the family doctor how he needed to go on cholesterol meds or start exercising more or have major surgery. He had enough on his mind without hearing that now his body was falling apart too.

Ron glanced at his desk calendar. Veronica had been back in town for a little over a month. She’d returned right before Lynnette died. Ron had never been too big on omens or signs but even he had to admit that Veronica's arrival and Lynnette's departure seemed to be too coincidental for comfort. Ron and his sister had never been close but having Lynnette die so suddenly shocked him. Lynnette's demise underscored the fact that he could--would--die someday too. Ron had chosen to deny his own mortality for so long that he really didn't appreciate being reminded of it so bluntly.


Then there was Kirk Channing coming to town. No wonder his stomach hurt. It was all too much for Ron to take and although he was fairly certain that no one else had figured out that the tall, good-looking Kirk was his son, it was playing hell with his nerves. It didn’t help that his niece was living with them too. Not that he saw all that much of Tiffany—other than when he went into the kitchen where the girl had apparently taken up permanent residence—but it still annoyed him to have an extra person around. He felt like his nerves were fraying faster than a cheap pair of Madras shorts and he didn’t like the sensation. Not one bit. Ron was used to being in control. 


Then there were the dreams he'd been having about Veronica, dreams that all too clearly reminded him of what the two of them had shared in bed. Veronica had been a fantastic lover, far warmer and more giving than Mavis had ever been. Knowing Veronica was back in town was making Ron wonder if he should try and rekindle those long ago flames.


Dear God, was he nuts? What was he thinking? Those flames would devour him now. He wasn't a kid any longer. If he managed to start things up with Veronica again and Mavis found out he had no doubts that his wife would destroy both of them

“Ron?” Mavis appeared in the doorway, startling him. “Are you ready?”

Ron squinted at his wife. “Ready for what?” Mavis appeared to be dressed for an evening out. She was wearing a long black skirt and a wildly patterned blouse in shades of red and pink and orange that made him feel slightly sick to his stomach plus all her heavy duty jewelry that she only wore when she went to the Schuyler Square Country Club or to a coronation.

“The fundraising dinner at the club,” Mavis reminded him.

“What are you raising money for now?” Ron asked irritably. He'd love to see the books on the money Mavis and her crew raised. He had the feeling that the charities they were supposedly supporting saw precious little of it.

“Ron, I told you already. For the policeman’s retirement dance that I’m helping organize.”

Vaguely, Ron remembered Mavis blathering about some dance that she was organizing but, like with most of the things his wife blathered about, he had only half listened. “I don’t want to go out tonight. You go without me.”

Steeling himself for an argument—You have to come with me, Ron! You promised—this is important to me—we always go to fundraisers together—Ron was pleasantly surprised when Mavis didn’t bat a false eyelash at him. “All right,” she said. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“You aren’t going to try and change my mind?”

The smile Mavis gave him was ingenuous. “Why would I want to do that, darling? I can see you have a lot on your mind. I’ll see you later.”

His wife leaned down to kiss him on the top of his head. “You’re wearing different perfume,” he said, surprised. Mavis had been wearing Joy for as long as he could remember.

“It’s called The Bolt of Lightening. Do you like it?”

“Sure,” Ron said. Actually the scent made him feel a little uneasy but that might have been more the name than the smell since he felt like he might get struck with lightening at any moment. “Have a good time.”

Mavis vanished without another word but the smell of her new perfume lingered in the den for awhile, making Ron even more uneasy. Somewhat was up with Mavis, too. Was it possible that she knew about Veronica and Kirk? If she did, why hadn’t she said anything yet? Mavis had never been known for either her patience or her compassion, although Ron sort of doubted many wives would be all that compassionate when they found out about a 27-year old love child.

It was probably all his imagination. Mavis was the same Mavis she’d been since he married her. He was acting paranoid because he knew that sooner or later everything was going to come out, hit the fan and there he’d sit, covered with his past indiscretions.

It was not something Ron was looking forward to.