The story so far:
It didn't even seem odd that my mind turned in that direction. It was as normal as making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Something I was going to do for myself.
My mind clicked. Being an avid mystery fan, I knew I had to come up with a plan. A good plan. The plan for a perfect murder.
But I was getting ahead of myself. I didn't even know her name and truth be told, I didn't get that good a look at her. My mind simply registered, blonde bimbo, and left it at that.
I went to the desk in the den and grabbed my address book from the drawer. "I know I have it somewhere, where the hell is it...?"
I jumped and nearly bit my tongue at the sound of another human being in the room with me. I turned back and scowled at Julia. What a nosey Nancy she was. She was always creeping up on you. When caught, she always said she had called out. Of course, she hadn't.
"Good grief, Julia, you scared the hell out of me."
She smiled her catty smile, eyes searching the room for clues. She was always looking for clues. She knew something was up. Of all the people I've ever met, no one had the gossip radar that Julia possessed. "What are you looking for?"
She sidled up to the desk and peered over my shoulder.
I closed the desk drawer and straightened up. "Nothing, just a recipe I thought I put in here. But it's not here." I smiled my best soccer mom smile and gently prodded her out of the den and into the kitchen, where she could do the least amount of harm.
"Want some coffee? I was about to make a pot," I said as I pulled down the coffee canister from the cabinet.
Julie leaned against the kitchen table and looked out the window toward the street. "Wasn't that Dom I just saw pull away?"
"Yeah," I said and added some coffee grounds to the fresh filter. "What of it."
"Well, are you two through? Is he coming back?"
I poured the water in the coffee-maker reservoir and flipped the switch. "That's kind of a personal question, don't you think?"
She turned her cornflower blue eyes on me but I looked away, lest they hynotise me into telling her every, hideous detail of my life, and searched out some cookies for us to have with our coffee.
She laughed a tiny little laugh and sat down at the table. "Come on, Angie," she patted the chair next to her, "sit down and tell Julia all about it. You know you want to."
I surrendered. She was right, I did want to tell someone and it might as well be her. No one else seemed to care that my life just turned to ****. So, why not?
I sat down next to her. "Yeah, it was Dom."
"And the bimbo, eh?" Julie smiled slyly.
I nodded my head.
"Well, what are you going to do about it?"
I got up and poured coffee for both of us, keeping my back to her. "Do? What can I do?"
I brought the cookies and coffee to the table and sat down again.
"If I were you, I'd kill the rotten little homewrecker."
A long moment of silence hung between us. Could I trust her? Would she help me?