The M.I.L.F. Man

Cancelled

It was just like a soap opera. All that was missing was those cheesy "dun dun DUUUUUUUN" organ chords in the background, I swear.

Let me fill you in.

See, there was some sort of big charity thing that Ma Mere really wanted me to attend with her and C in a couple of weeks. I'd read some of the PR stuff about it and man the red carpet was going to be crazy glamorous--why they wanted me so bad I do not know.

But Ma Mere's assistant said they'd been hinting about "the hot daughter-in-law" for weeks.

Piers gave me a little leer and said, "Fresh meat," when he heard that.

Clemence smirked, said, "And so it begins," and popped a bottle of some sort of expensive wine she'd been badgering Papa Guy to bring out of the cellar.

So anyway, a few hours after my first very weird day at Walther—more on that in a minute--I boarded the family jet with Clemence, bound for LA to meet some hotshot stylist. And a couple of hours and 14 insanely expensive dresses later, I'd narrowed it down to two.

One was a slinky "bodycon" gown that kind of scared me a little bit because it was cut down to my crack in back. The other was this tiny little beaded dress so short I was afraid to move let alone sit down in it. They would have to "secure" the plunging neckline to avoid a Janet Jackson nip slip on the red carpet--bras were apparently "out" that year...

Gerald--the severely "hand-sculpted" stylist with a two-toned, Cruella de Ville pompadour--made me take the "crack back" one out for one last spin.

Said, "With that hair thrown over your shoulder, honey? Slay!" And gave me a snap on that "slay" to emphasize his enthusiasm.

But seeing how stiffly I moved in that thing, he winked and said, "Let me get you some tape," and went trotting away.

So, I went back into the dressing room where Clemence was fiddling with some dresses I hadn't picked. And just as I turned to grab the little beaded one, I bumped the stool my purse was on and...yeah, you got it. It toppled over and dumped out that pregnancy test.

"Dun dun DUUUUUUUN!"

C gave this almost comically theatrical gasp. And then looked up at me...

So I said, "Breathe," and bent down to gather up everything including my wits, because I'd need them to be needle sharp for this little exchange.

"Well, this won't fit, then," was her first response. So totally C.

"Well, it's not...I mean..." I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. "I haven't...done the test yet..."

"Why? It only takes a few seconds."

"I understand that. But I want...I just..."

She hit me with a deep frown. "Well, I hope you don't sputter like that when you tell him. It'll break his heart."

"I just need a day or two to get my emotions in check. And you have to let me handle this, okay? I do have a plan."

She sat down on the little bench against the wall. "Well, it's really none of my business, is it? Although everyone'll be over the moon if you are. God..."