by Keren Ziv
"How do you do it?" she asked Lynette. "How do you become a good mother?"
Lynette only smiled, hand on Bree's hip. To Bree, her touch, gently lingering over the elastic waist of Bree's underwear, felt like it were laying the floor to which her heart could drop. Bree worried her lip between her teeth and shifted away. It took just moments to shimmy out of her underwear, and she thought, I will dress myself for hell with help from no one.
"I'm serious," Bree said, shoving a strap off of her shoulder. She turned and faced the wall as she crossed her arms and lifted off her camisole. "How do you have four relatively normal if somewhat rambunctious children, and I get … a homosexual?"
"Bree? What are we doing here?"
Lynette's fingers splayed against the small of her back, and Bree shivered. She wanted to turn and face Lynette, but the most she could do was turn her head profile, eyes cast down. Her toes were painted a soft peach color that matched the open-toed sandals that she was wearing that day (the first truly warm day of the season). Lynette's were bare of polish, one clad in pantyhose. Busy.
"I resigned myself to my mother's incompetence a long time ago, but we're talking about me."
"You're a wonderful mother." And Lynette's fingers were inching slowly around to her front, tripping and dancing along her hips. Her lips pressed against Bree's shoulder blades, and slowly she pulled them both back and to the side until they were lying together on the bed.
"I want to believe that," Bree said.
"We have to hurry," was her answer. "Penny'll be up soon."
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