Free Better Off Without Him by Dee Ernst

to talk to them.”
    He wheeled around and headed back, yelling for the girls. I could hear protests coming from upstairs, but they all filed down and followed him into the den. I sat back down. Patricia sat with me. We waited.
    They were in there for almost twenty minutes when I started to worry. Why wasn’t anyone crying? Shouldn’t somebody have started throwing things by now? Weren’t they angry? Sad? I was trying to figure out how they were taking things when the doorbell rang. I got up, crossed the hall and opened the door. It was Dominique.
    My jaw dropped open. She was standing very stiffly, her tiny body wrapped like a sausage in a black suit, her very blonde hair swept up into a perfect twist.
    “I got tired of waiting in zee car,” she said. “Is everyzing okay?”
    Now, in my novels, I know exactly what to say when the Other Woman has the balls to make an appearance. When Millicent Dupree realized that she actually loved her husband of three months, the silent but devastatingly handsome Geoffrey, Earl of Marchkirk, and when Millicent came face to face with Syllabyne Combs, the Earl’s former mistress, Millicent put that Syllabyne whore in her place with a few scathing observations of character and one well-appointed insult. Amanda Sinclair, newly engaged to Wentworth, Duke of Briarcliff, sent Justine Rutledge, who had very serious designs on the duke, scampering off after a war of words that went on for two and a-half-pages. So, in theory at least, I knew the long and short of it. Looking at Dominique, however, I couldn’t think of a single word to say. Lucky for me, I had Patricia and Aunt Lily.
    Patricia went into her Junior League mode. I could tell by the stiffening of her neck and the way her jaw clenched. She let loose a barrage of words that sounded spiteful and insulting, but, since they were in French, I had no idea what they were.
    Dominique, on the other hand, understood completely, because she went white.
    “Non,” she whispered.
    Patricia moved her shoulders in a decidedly Gaelic gesture. Then, the real bombshell fell. Aunt Lily, coming up behind, also said something in French. Her accent, I could tell, was not as perfect, and Aunt Lily’s lips actually moved when she spoke, but the effect was still pretty good.
    Dominique visibly shrank. She took a few steps back. Then she turned and ran back into the car. Brian’s car. The Mercedes.
    “What did you say?” I asked.
    Patricia smiled evenly. “I told her that there was a law in this country against husband-stealing and that if you pressed charges she would be sent back to France.”
    “Really?” Oh, that was rich.
    “Yes,” Aunt Lily said. “And I told her I did it to my husband’s mistress. Had her deported back to Poland.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t believe such a thing, but Dominique certainly did.”
    I was still laughing when Brian came bustling into the hallway, clasping his hands and looking rushed.
    “What’s so funny, ladies? And did I hear the door?”
    “No, no door,” I sputtered. “How are the girls?”
    “Fine, just fine. I really have to get going, so – “
    “Wait.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why are they fine?”
    “Ah, well, I just explained to them – “
    I marched back to the den. My daughters were all on the couch, watching American Idol. They did not look upset.
    “Why aren’t you upset?” I yelled.
    Miranda hit the remote, silencing contestant number three. “What’s to get upset about, Mom? Obviously, this is what you and Daddy want, although I can’t understand why you’d be so willing to let this family fall apart, so what’s the point…”
    She was blaming me. Of course.
    “Brian!” I yelled. He came, somewhat sheepishly, into the room. Obviously, he had been hoping for a quick escape. “The girls seem to think,” I said coldly, “that this is something we both want.” I was looking at him hard. He was starting to blush.
    “Ah, yes. Well, I told the girls that