The word was THERAPY. From this emerged:
Copyright (FROM 10/21/09). SUZANNE SOMERS revised….
“I really think you ought to see a therapist, Gerald.”
Surveying her husband of twenty-two years, Flora sat back, sipping her Dubonnet and gin, which she claimed was the favorite tipple of HM.
“You can see what Dr. Van Krakauer did for me, darling. I was totally unaware that I had lesbian tendencies until Klaus (we are on familiar terms) winkled them out of me in a deep hypnosis session. He did wonders, making me see that my admiration for female movie stars was all right. Once I gave myself permission I went ahead with the club. In fact, although of course she does not know it, my motivation for starting the Suzanne Somers fan club and you know how successful that has been, was that I was drawn to Suzanne because I am lesbian. I don’t mean she is of course, I don’t mean that. It’s just that I am drawn to her and so I started the club.”
Gerald looked at her over his glasses. “You know I love you Flora but sometimes you are a very credulous person. The fact is we are a happy, heterosexual couple. You know that the success of our marriage has stemmed from the fact that neither of us has objected to spreading our wings if need be, if I may put it like that. However that does not mean that I have to go to Dr. Van Krakauer or anyone else. We’ve have a good marriage don't we? But since we’re on the subject, I too rather like Suzannne Somers. You don’t have to be Sherlock to guess why. Yes, right. They are large, aren’t they? She’s a lucky gal and I’m a lucky man.” He laughed provocatively at his full bosomed wife.
Flora however was not to be diverted though of course she automatically drew herself up in her new clinging angora sweater. Wow, thought Gerald, Pavlov’s dog.
Primly she said,
“Gerald, you are a prime candidate for therapy. However and I state this categorically, I cannot have you muscling in on my terrain. Suzanne Somers is off–limits. Do we understand each other?”
“ No problem, Flora dear! However I am just pointing I am a red-blooded man still in his prime at fifty and I think Suzanne would approve.” He puffed out his chest. “All right, all right, that’s the last time I mention her to you.” He smirked. “Anyway what about a refill? I bet HM occasionally has the other half.”
“Now remember,” said Gerald. “Don’t say anything about Mr. Hudson’s job. We don't want to cast a pall," he chuckled. Flora looked pained. “I shall not say anything at all. I shall be mute.”
“Well, that may be a first.”
“Oh shut up. By the way, what is Mr. Hudson’s job?”
“He’s an undertaker.”
“I wish you hadn’t told me.”
Arriving at the party they found the house a blaze of light. At the door the host Radcliffe Henderson who was in corporate law and made a packet, was there greeting the guests with his new trophy wife Euphemia from Istanbul who had been, it was said, a belly dancer in a nightclub when Radcliffe was there as consultant to a high priced antiquities Turkish firm. Gerald noted the rather penetrating look Flora gave Euphemia as she priced out her couture gown. He also noted that Euphemia pressed his hand for a fraction more than was usual. Probably a foreign thing he thought.
They moved into the party, which was spread over several rooms. Waiters proffered glasses of champagne. Smiling at the euphoria it induced Flora quickly downed one. Gerald whispered, “Don’t overdo it, Flora!” She pulled away from him. “Oh, for God’s sake, it’s a party, Gerald.” She went into the conservatory.
Gerald shrugged and turned into the dining room where he saw Hudson chatting to Radcliffe who’d obviously given up his greeting duties. Hudson, who was expounding on the funeral business, was tall, with a pale ascetic face. Goes with the job Gerald thought. Not easy to be suitably sad all the time..
”Oh yes, it’s big business,’ he was saying to Radcliffe who had turned to Gerald as he approached. “How’s the newspaper business, Gerald? Busy as usual I suppose?”
Sipping his scotch and soda, Gerald looked around at the spacious room which opened up on to the hallway. Suddenly he caught sight of Flora going up the stairs with Euphemia. Radcliffe noted it too, and laughed. “Oh gone upstairs for some girl talk I expect. You should see Euphemia’s boudoir.”
Gerald smiled a little nervously. He wishes Flora was not quite so open about her new tendencies. He liked things to be normal. He asked rather irrelevantly,
“How are the children, Radcliffe?
“Doing well. They live with Madge, my ex but we’re all friendly. They love Euphemia. She has a way with her doesn’t she?” He gave a rather knowing chuckle. Gerald and Hudson smiled politely. Boy, thought Gerald, what would Flora’s shrink make of all this. They had some food and mingled in the dining room Gerald wondered where on earth Flora was and moreover where was their hostess, the sultry Euphemia. He had not forgotten the lingering handshake or the musky perfume. Suddenly Hudson said,
“I’d better find Dolores. We’re on tomorrow. Five cremations. It’s the thing nowadays. Much tidier don’t you think? Dolores does all the details. A real partner in the death business! My first wife was a dead loss.” Radcliffe laughed. Gerald thought there was a similarity between lawyers and undertakers. Both knew where the bodies were buried. Radcliffe sent a maid upstairs to find Euphemia to tell her that some of her guests were leaving. In the hall, Hudson and Dolores were putting on their coats. Suddenly there was a cry from the top of the stairs. All eyes swept upwards to a radiant Euphemia who was descending in more perfume and talking simultaneously
“Darlings” she cried to Hudson and Dolores, “I am so happy you were able to come.” Gerald heard Euphemia whisper to Dolores, “We must have a get together, just us, for some girl talk.” And then turned her full attention to Hudson, “I want to hear all about your profession. We never know when we might need you.” She smiled enigmatically. “Well, I know how it is. We love parties, don’t we, Radcliffe?” Radcliffe beamed. She’s made sure of him Gerald thought but then caught his breath for behind Euphemia he saw Flora, her hair slightly mussed, her color high, and her smile exuding a shining as if she had received an annunciation. He had not seen her like this for years.
Her coat lightly slung over her shoulders she took his arm saying, “Let’s go home, I’ve something to say.” She smiled coquettishly.
Reaching home she said, “Get me a night cap will you, Gerald darling.”
He poured her a double. He thought it might be a good night.
“I’ve made a decision.”
He looked at her. “Yes?”
She beamed at him. "Because I love you I am giving you Suzanne Somers.”
For the first time in his life, Gerald felt out of his depth. Maybe a visit or two to Dr. Krakauer might not go amiss.
