The Housewife Assassin's Greatest Hits by Josie Brown

Author:Josie Brown [Brown, Josie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-942052-79-1
Publisher: Signal Press

The parking lot is already filled when we pull up to Hilldale High School’s gymnasium. The bus for the opposing team, the Mira Costa Mustangs, is right behind us.

While Aunt Phyllis and Jeff hustle to join his teammates, Trisha and I climb the bleacher steps. Penelope Bing, who’s there with Tiffy and Hayley, does a double take. Her nudge to Tiffy elicits a gasp from her BFF. When she sees where Penelope is pointing—at me—she squeaks in surprise.

As Hayley follows their eyes, she declares “Mother of God!” It’s not this blasphemy that causes her to make the sign of the cross. It’s seeing me alive.

Frankly, I’m glad we’re not in church. Otherwise, she might feel the need to drown me in Holy water.

I wave at them, but I’ll be darned if I sit anywhere near them. I’m sure she’s dying to hear the details of my miraculous recovery.

Ain’t happening.

There’s no better reason for me to park myself right in front of her soon-to-be ex-husband and his current arm charm in the hope that she’ll be too intimidated to walk over.

I’m sure it grates on Penelope to have him back on her turf with his current squeeze, a winsome beauty who, from the looks of her, is at least a decade younger than his wife and barely a decade older than their brat, Cheever.

Well, what do you know? Penelope and her momtourage are on their way over anyway. Could it have something to do with the ever-present cameraman who’s always within a few yards of Peter? Or are they curious as to why I’m up and about, cavorting with the living?

My guess is the latter, despite Penelope’s blunt exclamation, “You survived?”

I grace her with a smile. “Why, hello to you too!”

Tiffy pouts, “But…we were told you were at death’s door!”

“By whom?” I ask.

“That nurse,” Hayley replies. “What was her name again? Oh, yeah—Nancy.”

I click my tongue. “Ironically, it’s Nancy who’s no longer with us.”

“She died?” Tiffy’s eyes open wide.

Penelope eyes me suspiciously. “You didn’t have anything to do with that—did you?”

I shake my head. “In jail. Attempted murder. Mine.”

“Too bad she got caught,” Hayley mutters. Glancing at Penelope, she shrugs her disappointment.

As if reading her mind, Penelope snickers. Then, turning to me, she innocently explains, “What Hayley means is that she seemed so nice.”

“By the way, even if Nancy had succeeded, you’d have been the last person Jack would ever date,” I inform her.

Penelope’s jaw drops practically to her surgically enhanced chest. She recovers quickly enough to growl, “Which one of these loudmouths told you that?”

“Neither,” I assure her. “I heard you say it myself.”

“Impossible!” Penelope retorts smugly. “You were dead as a doornail—well, almost.”

“In other words, you deny that you called Jack ‘the hottest DILF in Hilldale?’”

Tugging on my T-shirt, Trisha exclaims, “Mommy, does that mean Daddy knows how to bake a cake too?”

“Trisha, why don’t you help Aunt Phyllis hand out the Gatorade?” I suggest sweetly.

Trisha winks. “And if there’s any left over, we can have it with Daddy’s cake!” She skedaddles in the direction of my aunt.

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