Atypical Housewives

“Did I leave the garage door open?" Probably. Victoria sighed as she continued to scrub the bloodstained floor. Her wife would probably murder her as soon as they got home anyway. Victoria wouldn’t blame her, with the garage door and the rain coming down as hard as it was, Annabelle’s newly washed car would be splattered. At least no blood had spilled onto the light wood cabinets. They would be there all night if they had to clean that up.

“Are you about finished, dear?” Annabelle walked into the vast kitchen ruffling through a man’s wallet.

“I think so. Anything good in there?” She inspected closely for any leftover evidence. They usually left a house cleaner than it was when they arrived. The curse of a perfectionist hit team.

“We’ve had better. Couple hundred bucks for the jar.” She shoved the cash into her back pocket.

Victoria stood up, throwing all the bloody rags into a black garbage bag. “Got anything for kindling?”

“Just the gloves.” Annabelle walked over to the counter, eyeing the glass bottles of liquor. “I bet there is some expensive shit over here. These idiots making six figures in a rough year always flaunt the fancy booze.”

“Leave it alone. It is your turn to drive that piece of shit van.”

“Considering our everyday activities, I wouldn’t think you would have such a problem with a little buzzed driving.” She picked up a single malt scotch whiskey and dumped a generous amount down her throat, not touching her lips to the glass. It had almost become a ritual for Annabelle whenever they finished a job in a wealthy home. After all, the owners wouldn’t be back to enjoy their thousand dollar bottles of liver failure. “This almost isn’t terrible. Come on, baby. Try this one?”

They’d had the same conversation over and over again. After Victoria’s alcoholic father battered her mom for the first time, she refused even the smallest sip. Instead of starting the usual argument, Victoria chose to ignore her and checked over the ground floor for a final time. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Why bother? No one else will be here till the day after tomorrow when the maid comes in. You know this, you did your two weeks scoping the place out.” Annabelle grinned but gathered her things nonetheless. “Alright, we can go. Winston needs fed soon anyway.”

She was right, their dog would be right at the door when they got home, happily awaiting their arrival.

*****

The door slammed behind Victoria, their pit mix waiting patiently for her on the hallway rug as he did every day at three o’clock. She got down onto her knees and accepted the dog’s kisses with no complaint. She scratched the good spot at the top of his left hind leg before standing back up.

“How was work, dear?” Annabelle called from the kitchen. The house smelled of burning cookies.

“Great!” Victoria slid a large wad of smalls bills into a jar on the front hall table. Now full, she set the jar on the shelf below to join the seven others. Each had a label on the side with “baby” written on the side in various colored markers.

“Any problems?”

Victoria scoffed, walking down the hall and into the kitchen. “Have you no faith in me? You know I’ve never gotten caught. By the way, do we have any more jars?”

“You already filled that one? That’s two in three days. You’ve really stepped up your game. I think I have officially become the housewife.”

“Housewives don’t burn down the house,” Victoria claimed as she entered to kitchen to find Annabelle covered in flour and scorched cookies sitting on top of the stove.

“Housewives in training do.” Annabelle approached Victoria, but she backed away.

“Nope. I’ll wait till you’ve had a shower to kiss you. I don’t care to be covered in flour. Thanks.”

“What if I tell you I have good news? Will you kiss me then?” Annabelle grinned, inching closer.

“Did they call?”

Annabelle nodded slowly.

“We’re getting a baby?” Victoria asked quietly, hugging her.

“We’re getting a baby.”

*****

Victoria wandered aimlessly through the aisles touching small human blankets and onesies as she went. Annabelle had strolled off to closely examine the vast amount of different choices for bottle nipples. She knew exactly what they needed; she was prepared for their new family member, mentally and physically. Victoria, however, was not. She was excited and terrified at the same time. She was about to have the whole family she always wanted. But was she really ready for it?

The sales clerk cautiously approached Victoria. The dark hair, dark makeup, dark clothing, and her resting bitch face tended to scare off newcomers. “Can I help you find something, ma’am?”

“I’m just browsing. Thank you.” Victoria gave her a small smile, hoping to ease her concern. Instead, she appeared even more uncomfortable.

“Are you shopping for a friend?”

“No, I’m actually-” Annabelle interrupted by walking up to Victoria’s side.

Annabelle put her arm around her wife and grinned. “We’re adopting a baby.”

The sales clerk looked startled. “Oh? You two?”

Annabelle’s smile vanished. “Is that a problem?” Five foot two, fists clenched, she could come off even more frightening than Victoria.

“N-no. Of course not. It’s just… you know… kids growing up without a proper father figure,” the clerk started. As if they hadn’t heard the lecture a few hundred times.

Afraid of making a scene in the middle of the store, Victoria dragged Annabelle towards the door. “Come on, dear. We’ll take our business elsewhere.”

“That bitch. How dare she have the nerve?” muttered Annabelle once they stepped out into the parking lot.

Victoria stifled laugh. “I have a great idea for a date tonight.”

Annabelle perked up a little. “Yeah?”

“We haven’t done a job just for fun in a while.” Victoria nodded back to the door of the store. “A little recon over a lovely dinner and maybe see where the night leads?”

“You sure know how to treat a girl to the perfect night.”