So Perfect by Judy Cabito, Martini, shaken not stirred

 The doorbell rang at six o’clock. Karen welcomed their guests Bob and Cynthia from Dave’s office. They aren’t a couple per se. Bob, Dave’s employee, is always willing to escort Cynthia, Dave’s secretary, if Bob needed Dave to do him a favor. Cynthia knew this, Bob knew this and Dave knew this, Dave just didn’t know that Karen knew so much.

‘Happy New Year’s Eve,’ Karen said, swinging the door wide open. She accepts a social kiss on the cheek from Bob and a chilly hand from Cynthia.

‘We the first?’ Cynthia asked, advancing toward Dave.

‘Oh heavens,’ Karen said, as she took Bob’s overcoat and scarf. ‘You’re the only ones. I thought a quiet evening with just the four of us was what we needed here.’

Earlier that day, Karen and Dave began preparations for this evening’s event. They’re a stylish young couple, appearing to enjoy marital bliss. They own all the newest electronic devices, drive the latest fuel-efficient cars, live in a modest up-and-coming neighborhood, have chic jobs, Karen a personal-shopper with a sharp-eye for detail, and Dave a market-analyst who works long hours… suspiciously long hours.

While Karen takes pride in her home’s outward appearance with its aqua blue shutters against a yellow clad-facade, trimmed in junipers, and an array of pastel powder-puff hyacinth and hydrangeas, Dave works overtime.

For every occasion Karen decorates the door, keeping an eye open for anything that would tarnish the perfect look of their perfect life. In spring their door hosts a Pink Bunny, at Halloween a jack-o’-lantern, for Thanksgiving a cornucopia, winter a wreath, and on New Year’s Eve, nothing.

Karen complained right off, ‘Wal-Mart had nothing to put on the door for our New Year’s event. It ruins everything.’ She seemed perfectly upset and went to their perfectly decorated bedroom, bedecked with a DKNY comforter and shams, Martha’s best linens, a Persian rug, and a bedside lamp dimmed to a perfect intensity. She shut the door and refused to come back out.

‘Karen,’ Dave whined at the door. ‘Not everything has to be perfect, be more flexible. Besides, we have company coming. You can’t be this way now, you must forget it, nothing will change it.’

Karen refused to open the door or speak.

At five, Dave picked up his cell phone and made calls from Karen’s list of invitees she left next to her phone. Karen heard his excuse through the door. ‘She’s ill. No… no, she’ll recover in a day or so. No… no one should be around her. Sorry about the inconvenience.’

He then set about putting the food away when Karen emerged.

‘What are you doing? We have company coming, it’s New Year’s Eve,’ she said.

Dave stuttered, ‘I, I thought… I, I called everybody. Told them you were ill.’

‘Don’t mind about that. Just put things back.’

Now as Karen leads her guests into the parlor, Bob looks hungry; Cynthia nervous, Dave suspicious, no… mortified. 

And Karen? Well, she looks perfectly prepared.

About the author

Judy Cabito writes fiction. Her stories have been published online and in print, such as CafeLit, Everyday Fiction, Gator’s Spring Gazette, Foliate Oak, Salome Magazine, and Flashquake. Some publishers still exist, some don’t. Judy lives in the Lake Tahoe area of Nevada, USA.

Did you enjoy the story? Would you like to shout us a coffee? Half of what you pay goes to the writers and half towards supporting the project (web site maintenance, preparing the next Best of book etc.)