The horror of suburban gossip

"We can't do that," Bree said. "People would start to assume things."

Lynette raised an eyebrow. "But wouldn't they be assuming the right sort of things?"

"That is not the point."

"But what is the point?"

"I'm not in the mood to be a subject for gossip."

"Not to break your illusion," Lynette said, "but I think we kinda *are.*"

Lynette watched as Bree arranged the flowers with her normal high-strung precision. She leaned back in her chair. "I know. You don't want to live with me because you'd never be able to keep up with my kids." She smiled, satisfied at her analysis. "There's no way you'd be able to build up at the rate at which they destroy."

Bree briefly glanced at Lynette. "You truly believe me to be that neurotic?"

"Well, if you're really worried about people talking, you'd be pretty damn neurotic. Also, we both know you're neurotic." Off Bree's sigh, "That wasn't an insult."

"I have standards, not neuroses." Bree smiled at her after the flowers were finally perfect. "You of all people should know that by now."

"And you should be able to tell me why you'd rather live alone than with me."

"That implies I'm saying no. I'm saying later."

"In the magical time in the unknown future when people no longer gossip?"

Bree was unfazed, her smile brighter than ever. "If that comes first."