Frank Brown

The naughty neighbor wives

CHAPTER ONE

A shaft of late-afternoon sunshine burst through the overcast and shot down between the tops of the tall spruces that sheltered Liz's house from the street. Liz jumped up and looked out the picture window of her living room, feeling the sun's warmth on her cheeks.

"Well, it's about time!" she exclaimed. "I was beginning to wonder whether we'd ever see the sun again."

Carmen, still resting on the couch, chuckled.

"And I was beginning to wonder whether the sun had ever shone in Fullerton. I was just telling my husband Lester last night, if it gets any drearier around here, I'm going back to Chicago. Chicago weather might also be a little glum at this time of year, but at least there's enough excitement there to take your mind off it."

Liz reseated herself at the end of the couch opposite Carmen, pulling her bare feet up under her to warm her toes. "Give Fullerton a chance, dear. You haven't even been here a week."

"One of the longest weeks of my life," Carmen complained.

"Oh, come on! Give yourself time to adjust. Granted, you won't find the big-city excitement here that you would in Chicago, but you won't have to worry about being mugged, either. And, believe it or not, the sun does shine here most of the time. April showers are just about over with May flowers will be here any day."

Carmen smiled. "Why is it that all you small-town folk think of nothing but muggings and murders whenever you hear the name of a big city? Darling, I was born in Chicago and spent all thirty-eight years of my life there, and never once was I mugged or raped or shot."

"But don't you find Fullerton so much more peaceful, so much cleaner and more quiet?"

"It is a quaint little town, I'll admit. But I think I'm more likely to die of boredom here than I ever was of being murdered in Chicago. You know, you're the first person I've been able to have any kind of conversation with since I got here? I thought people in these small towns were supposed to be overly friendly, nosy, in fact. All I seem to get from anybody is an indifferent glance."