DISCLAIMER: Touchhstone TV and ABC (and whomsoever else) owns DH and the smokin' ladies therein. Which consortium will be hereafter referred to as Moloch. Hail be to Moloch. Praise be to Moloch. We bow to Moloch. Moloch is mighty. Moloch is greedy. I am not. No money is involved in this fiction, and forgiveness is begged from Moloch. I'm poor. Don't sue as I bleed all over myself when you do and you don't want a messy author, do you? This story is mine under Berne International Copyright Law. 1,700 words, January, 2005.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for other fans of "DESPERTATE HOUSEWIVES" who believe some two or more of these ladies must do more than play Bridge together.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
I hadn't heard any drilling noises for quarter an hour, so it seemed it might be a good idea to check whether Edie was still amongst the hale and hearty.
I stuck my head out the baby's window and looked around. The awning appeared to be as before, but a tug on its support revealed that it now seemed firmly attached to my house.
However, no Edie Brit.
Okay, the adjustable aluminum ladder was still in place, and there were no groaning or bleeding bodies lying in my Gharidelli daisies. Where was she?
I thought of climbing in search of her, but decided I bled too easy to swing out onto the ladder from the window. However, my baby was dead to the world, and the little fan circulating air would cover a bit of noise; so I helloed for Edie.
Sliding noises from my roof. A pair of work boots (size 5 I was sure), suddenly appeared on my gutter. "Yeah?" she asked.
"Just checking whether you were still amongst the living," I explained. "What are you doing? Is my awning all fixed?"
"Put in six plastic wedgies and re-screwed. You could probably swing from it now."
"Was my roof in trouble?" I asked. All I'd need now ....
Edie began the backwards progress of coming down. She looped the rope around the little pulley on the ladder side, and lowered her square tool box down to the daisies. She swung the box, but it sill wound up sitting on a few daisies. They'll survive a little crushing.
Edie brought that gorgeous butt of hers down the ladder until our heads were level.
She offered me a puff on her cigarette.
A whiff stung my nostrils. It weren't tobacco.
I boggled a little at that, and then noted my choices.
We were outside, up above the ground, and there was a steady wind coming in from the northwest. No neighbors were in sight and how long has it been ... ?
Keep my head and the joint out the window. A-a-a-a-h-h!
If my husband found out - but I wouldn't think bad thoughts.
Baby still dead to the world.
I knew I was being bribed, but if bribery is good enough for our government, it's good enough for me.
The joint didn't have THAT much of an impact, probably domestic. But I could still feel my toes going dead. It always made my toes feel that way.
We swapped it back and forth for a few minutes, enjoying the breeze blowing the acrid smell away.
I'd never go up on a roof and blow, but I think Edie had an adventurous spirit that neared Death Wish sometimes. Didn't know her, really, but I had that impression.
"So, Edie," I asked, "what WERE you doing up on my roof?"
From between her breasts, she pulled out a monocular. A one-half of a binocular, dangling on a little chain. Edie offered it to me. It was still warm from her body, and smelled of talc and 'Escape'. "Just people watching," she stated.
It was amazing what all I could see through it. Incredibly clear.
"So what people were you watching?"
"The exciting, the uptight and delovely Bree van De Kamp. You can just see into her bedroom from a point on your roof. Mind you, I didn't intend to go peeping when I got up there, but when the opportunity offered itself, I took it."
I took another toke, trying to put scathing words in my mouth.
"SHAME on you, Edie Brit! That's terrible!"
Edie just leaned into the ladder and smiled.
Unable to stand the suspense any longer, I finally broke down.
"So? Spill it? What did you see?"
"Well, I saw that her delicious boobs are real, for one thing. No plastic in that rack." A smirk is a terrible thing to have plastered all over your face.
"And that's not the only thing, either." My flesh is weak. I had to know. I just HAD to know. Edie had seen LOTS more.
"And? And? And?"
"Our passionate looking neighbor had a VERY long and VERY big rubber toy and was receiving all it could give."
"You're kidding!" I yelped. However, that smirk said it was all true.
Up there, on the roof, you could see. My nearest and dearest has a really good pair of binoculars in his second drawer.
The roof didn't look all that steep any more.
I'll be careful. I'll be real careful. I'll be safe and careful.
How safe and careful can you be on a roof?
In a few minutes I had reached my lawn, and was telling myself not to look down as I climbed. Naturally I looked down.
Two minutes later I was skittering up the roof, with Edie bracing me on one side. I felt like a squirrel crossing a tightrope. Only with no tail to help my balance.
If I die and leave my kids motherless I'll never forgive myself.
Chin on the peak, the top, and ignoring the scratchy shingles, I was shakingly putting the binoculars to my eyes. I felt like an explorer gazing on a verdant wilderness. God, I could see clear!
Eventually I found the window in question. Part of the bottom was obscured by the nearer roof, and leaves obscured one side.
Bree had a good rhythm set up already. Slow and steady, slow and steady, slow and steady. Then she'd change the angle and get into a flurry of fast strokes.
'It' looked sorta beautiful. Cream and green swirls. Like it was made out of a parfait.
I slowly started backing down. I had to have the ground under me before I started processing this massive inload of data.
Edie stayed with me all the way. Good girl. She guided my feet into the rungs of the ladder, and held it steady as I fumbled down.
We did the lotus on the lawn once we were both safe.
"Oh wow," I said.
"Did you notice she just had a landing strip? Not shaved clean, and not a full bush either. Something I should figure Bree would do. You know what a neatness hound she is. That little square landing strip looked damned cute, I thought."
Landing strip. Bree had a landing strip. On her ....
This is too much input.
"Don't get too freaky on me, Lynette," Edie demanded. "I'm sure you have a few examples of Hong Kong's finest in a drawer somewhere. I know I do. A girl just can't depend on finding a friendly man or woman when you need one most."
I went back inside to get the baby, and Edie went to get us something to drink.
Soon the changed baby was gurgling inside the crib, and we two adults were on the redwood table and bench, drinking diet Shasta. Edie had stolen a chunk of my Super Sharp Cheddar, and wheat crackers, and was nibbling. She apologized, but said weed made her hungry. I shared the snack.
"Here's to Bree," Edie proposed. "May she find a good leather butch who'll present her with about three hundred good orgasms, and give our redhead back to us not so uptight all the time." We clinked glasses in salute.
"Why not a good man?" I inquired.
"Are you kidding? If a married woman as hot as her doesn't get her spring un-wound, like Bree obviously hasn't, she can't unwind with her man. A man doesn't get her itch deep down where it counts. Trust me on this. Our local gorgeous redhead needs to find some good butch who'll take her around the block fifty or so times."
Oh wow. The vision of Bree and another woman made me feel funny. It was all rather academic at this point, but still I felt strange.
"How would you know?" I teased.
"Been there, done that."
As it sank in I stared at Edie. She of the incredible face and body, who I would feed into a wood chipper in a New York minute if she so much smiled at my husband.
"You've done women?" I asked.
I quickly modified that question. "No, no, don't answer that, you needn't, it, that's altogether too personal, and ...."
"I like making love to a woman." She smirked again. "Don't knock it until you've tried it."
"And men?" I had to ask.
"I like men," she smiled. "A damned lot. So?"
Should I be afraid? Am I Edie's next woman? As if to answer that unspoken question, Edie continued.
"You know, come to think of it, maybe I should make a point of getting more friendly with Bree. It can't be very easy on her going through her divorce, or whatever it is she's going through."
Edie licked her lips.
"Gal needs a friendly shoulder she can lay her head on. Don't you agree?"
One part of me wanted to warn Bree. Another part of me thought Bree becoming just a little more loose might be a wonderful thing to happen to her. The most firmly repressed part of me ...
Edie laid a warm little hand on my blouse sleeve, being close and friendly.
"In the meanwhile, Lynette dear," she purred. "Consider your options."
I expected a wink. No wink.
I think I just got propositioned.
I was confused, but I recovered enough to ask her about some of her girlfriends. Somehow I was sure there had been more than one.
She told me, a little. We drank Shasta, enjoyed the breeze, ate cheese and listened as Edie dished.
It was actually exciting hearing Edie tell tales, tall or otherwise.
She wanted me to go with her some night to "The Wrinkle". One of those places where it's always ladies night.
Yep. I've been propositioned.
For some reason, being propositioned made me confident enough to decide to break out the transparent almost-flesh-colored harem girl outfit tonight. After the kids were in bed. Made me feel I still had it.
That two-piece set had the enviable ability to almost show all, while at the same time obscuring some of the details.
Someone in my household was going to get the full benefit of that see-through ensemble. Whether he expected it or not.
I had a vision of Bree and Edie at "The Wrinkle" ...
Wisteria Lane will never be the same again.
Continued in Rooftop Evening
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