Whispers and Murmurs

"Fuck!" Donna screamed. "Just fucking great! Just what I needed."

She was halfway up the stairs when she realized, she still had not turned the coffee maker off. Stomping down the stairs, she turned the unit off, then jerked the plug from the wall.

Returning to the master bedroom, Donna flicked the overhead light on. She blinked; the bed was unmade. Robert had left this morning while she was still lounging; that was nothing new. It irritated her to no end; she would not be ready to abandon their bed just yet, and he would make it.

"God damn, I was just going potty," she would yell, returning from the bathroom to see that he'd already made their bed.

Or, she would have breakfast with him; Robert said he loved when they would have breakfast together and would return to the bedroom to see that the bed was neatly made, her four pillows stacked neatly and the decorative pillows arranged in an orderly pattern across the front of the matching pillow shams.

Seeing the bed still in the disarray she'd left it in this morning really drove home the simple fact to Donna; Robert was not home. Looking further, she saw that the decorative pillows were still neatly stacked at the foot of the bed, on their cedar chest. The two pillows in their decorative shams were wedged between bed frame and nightstands, waiting for Robert to pull comforter and blanket and flat sheet straight, then fold the flat sheet over before putting her four pillows and his two pillows...

"They're gone," Donna whispered, suddenly feeling lightheaded as she saw Robert's two pillows were not on the bed.

"Robert, oh Robert, I, I am so sorry," she sobbed miserably when his voice mail picked up. "Please, please, it, it was just, it was just a really stupid April fool's joke."

After a fitful night, Donna was roused at eight thirty by the usually quite annoying sound of Robert's lawnmower. Rolling over, angry at being woken up after a night of restless sleep, Donna then snapped awake, overjoyed.

But it wasn't Robert. It was Old Man Wellman, their next-door neighbor. Cursing the neighbor, Donna burrowed under her mound of pillows, trying to shut out the droning lawnmower.

Soon, but not soon enough for Donna, Mr. Wellman finished cutting the grass. Just as Donna was drifting off to sleep again, the annoying whine of Mr. Wellman's weed-eater started.

Giving up on sleeping, Donna padded down the stairs. Reaching to flick on the coffee maker, Donna remembered the carafe was broken. She staggered up the stairs again and dressed. Her only concession to her appearance was pulling her shoulder length dark brown hair into a messy ponytail. Tornadough's Donuts gave her a good sugar rush and a perfect cup of coffee.

Grocery shopping at the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store on Saturday was excruciatingly tedious. She did enjoy teasing one hapless young employee, bending and stretching, her denim cutoffs revealing a goodly portion of her compact buttocks.

Robert's car was not in the garage when she backed in. After unloading the groceries from the trunk of her car, Donna beat on the counter; she'd forgotten to buy a new carafe for the coffee maker.

"Robert wouldn't' have forgot. Of course, Robert never would have left the damned thing on in the first place," Donna snarled as she grabbed her purse again.

"Okay, Robert, I've learned my lesson," Donna left on his voice mail that Saturday evening. "Ha ha, you can come on home now."

Sleep would not come for several mind-numbing hours. Sunday morning, someone started to remove the dead pine tree from the Babineaux home across the street. Just as soon as the chain saw ceased, someone began cutting the grass of the home on the other side of their rental home.

Donna wobbled down the stairs and turned on the coffee maker. A cup of coffee poured from the new carafe brought no sense of accomplishment to her. It just brought home another fact; Robert made better coffee than she did.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

At lunch-time April 1st, Robert did not veer to the break room, where he had a tuna fish sandwich waiting for him. He strode with purpose to the front door of the squat white quartz and black glass building.

"Leaving, Robert?" Aderyn asked as she glanced at the clock in the lobby.

"Yes," was Robert's terse answer?

He did not return that day. At Five minutes after five, nearly all of the employees of Edwards & Elswell Marketing Group had vacated the building; it was Friday. After sending the phone system to auto attendant, Aderyn clocked out then shut her computer down. She sat for a long moment, debating with herself; tinkle now or hold it until she could get to her trailer.

"Sure as I'm sitting here, there'll be an accident on nineteen," Aderyn said, getting to her feet.

"And then I'll have an accident," she giggled, hurrying to the bathroom.

"You're going wear a groove in that floor," Connie cheerfully declared as Aderyn bustled past the woman's office.

"Mr. O'Neil said we ought just put my desk in there," Aderyn giggled but did not pause in her stride.

"Good idea," Connie agreed.

On Monday, Robert was dressed as he always was dressed on Mondays. Mondays was his charcoal black single breasted suit with crisp white shirt and gray and black striped tie. Aderyn greeted him with a cheerful smile. Robert returned her greeting but she could see the smile did not reach his tired eyes.

"Aderyn? I'll be leaving here at about two? I don't know if I'll be back after or not," Robert said. "Oh, and if my, if Donna calls? Please do not put her through, please."

"Oh. Okay," Aderyn agreed, losing her smile.

"Shock me, thrill me, make me want to have your babies, what do you have for me?" Valerie demanded, stomping into Robert's office before he'd even clocked in.

"Rabbits, bunnies are cute," Robert stated as he did clock in.

"And..." Valerie prompted, waving a hand in impatience.

Very quickly, Robert pulled a disposable pen from his desk drawer and sketched out two miserable looking, slightly overweight bunnies. Overhead, he wrote one bunny complaining that she craved chocolate. The other bunny demanded chocolate. And pizza. And hamburgers. Black bean hamburgers, of course.

"Mm..." Valerie said, one eyebrow cocked, waiting.

Robert flipped the page and drew the same two bunnies looking to the left as a third bunny entered the page. Robert drew a bunny that looked remarkably like Aderyn, minus the large breasts and pregnant belly. But she did have a delectable rear end and large cottontail.

"Oo, I want chocolate, I want burgers. Well, while you two are just sitting around whining about what you can't have? I'm going to Saladelights. Gotta bounce, bunnies," Robert wrote.

"Fresh ingredients, delicious dressings. Gotta Bounce, Bunnies," Robert said, using a deep announcer's voice.

"April Fool's day was Friday," Valerie said. "Be serious; don't try to pull this on me."

"I think it's cute," Aderyn said from the door of Robert's office.

"We pay you to listen in on others' conversations?" Valerie asked the young woman.

"Oops, no. Was on my way to tinkle and heard y'all," Aderyn confessed, walking away. "Gotta Bounce, Bunnies."

"Ten second spots. Animation for television and social media, voice for radio," Robert said, buoyed by Aderyn's approval.

He pointed in the direction the eighteen year old cutie had waddled. Valerie looked in that direction.

"That? That was one of our target markets right there," Robert said. "And she thought it was cute."

"Hormonally driven eighteen year olds are out target market?" Valerie asked, eyes twinkling.

"Just say eighteen year olds. Are there any eighteen year olds that aren't hormonally driven?" Robert smiled widely.

"Okay, get with Makeda in arts; see what you two can do," Valerie said. Then we'll float it by Saladelights and see what they think."

Makeda was surly and short with Robert. When he asked her, point-blank what he had done to offend her, Makeda became belligerent. Loudly, she demanded to know why he was asking, becoming quite agitated.

"Because I feel like wasting my time," Robert snapped and left her work station.

Two hours later, Makeda noisily entered Robert's small office, huffed in indignation and flopped down in a chair. Robert ignored her as he continued to work on his computer. He continued to ignore the heavy set woman, despite her repeated throat clearing.

"Valerie says I got work with you or I'm out of here," she finally declared.

"Really? Any idea where you're going to apply?" Robert asked, saving his work.

"What? What's that mean?" Makeda demanded.

"Means, other than some audio, I'm done," Robert said. "Two semesters of Auto-CAD with Dr. Whitehead. So, best of luck in your future endeavors there Ms. McMann."

Robert barely had time to race from the Edwards & Elswell building to his appointment with Trevor Williams. Sitting in a comfortable chair, sipping a cup of dark roast coffee, Robert told the young blond man his tale of woe.

"Any chance of reconciliation?" Trevor asked gently.

"Honestly? Look, I..." Robert faltered, looking off in the distance.

"Listen, we can go ahead, fill everything out and put it on the back burner," Trevor suggested after a long moment of silence from his client. "You know, give yourself time to think it over."

"...I was fixing break up with her; God! So demanding, so needy," Robert mused, shuffling through the paperwork. "Course then, she pops up preg..."

Robert held up a sheet of paper. Trevor waited while Robert read the document in front of him. Robert's face tightened and his deep brown eyes flashed angrily.

"Donna comes up says she's pregnant. My older brother, Timmy? Has two girls by two different mommas," Robert said, teeth gritted in anger. "I am not Timmy; I will not have my daughter or son come out a bastard. Then right after the wedding Donna tells me she had a miscarriage. Insurance stuff right here."

Trevor read the insurance paperwork that had gone through O'Neil's Furniture & Appliances, Robert's place of employment at the time of his marriage. Trevor then read the attached paperwork Dr. Ellen Sweetman's office had submitted for one Donna Catherine O'Neil.

"File the papers; I want a fucking divorce," Robert snarled.

On Tuesday, Robert showed Valerie what he had managed to complete the previous day. Valerie changed 'Gotta' to 'Gonna' in the ten second spots. To Robert, 'Gonna bounce, Bunnies' did not have the same impact as 'Gotta bounce, Bunnies.' But the owner/manager of Saladelights and his two silent partners loved it. The waitresses at the restaurant even had vests with 'Gonna Bounce, Bunnies' and the adorable pink bunny smiling imprinted on the left breast.

Robert wondered if anyone at Edwards & Elswell had noticed that the Saladelights Bunny was an Aderyn Hernandez clone. Same large brown eyes, cute upturned nose and wide smile. Not to mention her adorable backside as she bounced across the screen past the two complaining green bunnies.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Ever the gentleman, Robert did not embarrass Donna by having her served at the St. Ann Public Library, her place of employment. Instead, he had her served at her home. The smiling young man had disarmed Donna by asking her who cut their grass; it was getting a little long. She stepped out onto the porch to look at the pitiful condition of the lawn when the young man asked if she was Donna O'Neil, then told her she was served.

Their neighbor, Peter Neulin immediately agreed to represent Donna in the case of O'Neil Vs O'Neil. With a smile he offered Donna the 'Good Neighbor' discount. Peter's hand cupping his heavy balls through his suit's trousers left little doubt what he expected, along with whatever he planned to charge for his services.

"I now understand why Robert didn't like you," Donna thought as Peter preened and Peter's wife, Charlene wore a predatory look on her face.

Donna knew how to play the game. She'd strung more than one man along with smiles, giggles, light touches. She knew how to hint at but never promise anything. She hinted at but never agreed to provide her favors to Peter or Charlene. She did use her cell phone to make a transfer of one thousand dollars from her bank account to retain Peter's legal services.

"Oh, you know I want to; I mean, have you ever seen yourself in a suit?" Donna husked as she pressed her 32C breasts against Peter. "Or, oh God, in that bathing suit of yours? But we need to wait, okay?"

Donna thought briefly of driving to Edwards & Elswell, of confronting Robert. But, still thinking Robert was making far too big a deal out of a simple April fool's joke, Donna refrained. Truthfully, it should be him coming to her.

At their first meeting, the first time Donna had seen Robert in five weeks, Donna forgot that she had the moral high road. She babbled about an April fool's joke that had fizzled. She rambled about a simple misunderstanding. She claimed an employee of his, some girl that had answered the telephone at his office could verify her claims.

Looking at Robert's impassive face, his eyes flat, lifeless, Donna burst into tears. Ignoring the tears, Trevor Williams, Robert's attorney stated it was a fairly straightforward petition with an equitable split of all assets.

Peter countered with a demand of a seventy thirty split in his client's favor with Robert paying all court costs as well as Peter's fees. He also stated that Donna was seeking two thousand five hundred dollars a month in spousal support. Then he stated his client would agree to a fifty-fifty split if and only if Robert would agree to no less than ten sessions with a licensed marriage counselor.

"Ain't No Fault divorces' grand? See you in court," Trevor smiled, getting to his feet. "But, might we suggest your client go get some counseling of her own? To play such a cruel, vindictive April fool's joke, if it was a joke? Seems pretty sick to me."

"Nothing happened. It was all just..." Donna shrilled. "That girl; ask her."

Miss Peggy and Mr. Tim were unwilling to help Donna. Miss Peggy did echo Trevor's sentiments; it seemed to be a pretty sick joke, if it was a joke.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

A week after Robert had Donna served with the petition for the dissolution of their marriage, TAB Properties contacted Donna. The house had been leased in Robert's name, primarily because Donna Campion had deplorable credit thanks to some foolish behavior with a credit card when she was eighteen. TAB Properties was willing to rent the home to Donna but did require a walk-through to determine if Robert Michael O'Neil would be refunding his security deposit. This, of course, meant that Donna O'Neil would have to fill out all the paperwork in her name only, and put down a new security deposit.

TAB Properties paid water and sewage for the home, but Donna would be responsible for the electricity. Looking at her bank balance, Donna was starting to see where her carefree, impulsive nature was harming her.

"Jesus Christ, Robert; it was a joke. It was just a joke," Donna said, tears of bitterness leaking from her eyes.

It was Donna's Saturday to work at St. Ann Parish Public Library. This meant she would be off on Monday and would have time to take care of the utilities, fill out all the paperwork with TAB Properties.

"Your personal issues are not their problem," Courtney Simone snapped at Donna just before they unlocked the door of the gray stone building. "Try to smile, all right?"

The children and three employees of Wagon Wheel Day Care Center trooped in for Story Hour. Even on a Saturday, the Day Care Center had fourteen children under their supervision. The three employees were smiling as they herded the children up the wide staircase to the second floor.

Courtney helped the women get the children seated around the small stage then sat in a comfortable chair and picked up a book. The glasses she put on her face were greatly oversized glasses and the children laughed. With a smile on her graceful face, the blonde woman gently reminded the children that it wasn't nice to laugh at someone just because they needed glasses. After all, they wouldn't like it if someone laughed at them.

As Courtney read, actors jumped out from behind the curtain to act out what Courtney was reading. The children were enthralled with the story and with the actors.

Even in her bad mood, Donna couldn't help but smile as the children all cheered and clapped for the performers. She looked up as one of the Day Care workers approached her.

"Hi; do you have today's newspaper? I'm looking for another place to live; God, I hate apartment living," Quinn Lee asked in a soft voice.

"The St. Ann's Advertiser," Donna agreed, pointing to the rack. "The DeGarde Weekly comes out on Wednesday; it's the second one on the rack. Oh! There's a Sunday edition but we don't get that."

"Nope. Nothing new," Quinn said morosely a moment later. "Thanks, Donna."

Two Saturdays after receiving the paperwork from Robert's attorney, Donna was scheduled to cover for Courtney; her supervisor was on vacation. Fortunately, all Donna had to do for Story Hour was sit and read; the actors had already rehearsed their parts.

"Wow, these are heavy," Donna blurted out, putting the huge eyeglasses onto her face.

The glasses were plain lenses so they did not obscure Donna's ability to read the story. And, whomever had written the book had put (PAUSE) into parentheses so Donna knew when to pause for the actors to do their parts.

"So, how's the apartment hunting going?" Donna asked Quinn as Frank Murphy, another St. Ann Parish Public Library employee talked with the children about the various functions of libraries.

"It's not. Every one of them I can afford? Horrible. I mean, Venice Apartments themselves are pretty nice," Quinn said. "It's just my nasty creepy neighbor I need to get away from."

"What's he doing?" Donna asked.

"Now how you know it's a 'He'?" Quinn smiled. "But, I mean, he just stares at me. Don't say nothing, just stares at me, rubbing his, his, you know."

"Listen, I, I've got a three bedroom house and I'm living in it all by myself," Donna said. "I'll be happy to rent you a room."

>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Hi!" Aderyn greeted Robert with her wide smile when he stepped into the lobby of Edwards & Elswell.

"Hi; anything I need to know about?" Robert asked even as he checked his in-box.

"Valerie's looking for you and she ain't happy," Aderyn disclosed as Robert dropped three envelopes into the garbage can next to the mail slots.

"Snooker's Sandwiches," Robert sighed, leaving the lobby with the fourth envelope in his hand.

"Even if the whole principle wasn't such a flawed notion, the people themselves would bring about their own demise," Robert said before Valerie could even utter a sound.

"Okay. Tell me what I'm missing," Valerie snapped, taking a seat.

"Gourmet. And sandwiches. Sandwiches are not a gourmet food. Especially when everyone and their dog is so car-conscious," Robert said. "Using kale instead of lettuce does not elevate nasty, gristly roast beef."

"Never tried their roast beef," Valerie admitted.

"And adding rosemary to tuna salad doesn't do much to disguise the fact that it's tuna fish from a can," Robert continued.

"Yeah, I wasn't all that crazy about it either," Valerie agreed.

"But to have a waiter sneer at you when you ask them to leave the mushroom off of the prime rib sandwich and tell you that there are no exceptions really does not make anyone feel like spending twenty seven dollars for a lunch when right down the street? Tommy's Po-boys will make any sandwich you want, any way you want for fifteen bucks," Robert said.

"Come on, Robert. Give me the bunny magic," Valerie begged.

Robert decided that the food should speak for itself. And Dennis 'Snooker' Hawkes and his wife Sandy were arrogant enough to agree. The ten second advertisements simply showed an overhead shot of one turkey sandwich on a plate with the homemade potato chips Snooker's was so proud of. The camera panned to show an overhead view of a ham and provolone sandwich on soft roll nestled next to a steaming bowl of homemade vegetable soup. The third sandwich to enter the frame was a tuna salad sandwich on cracked whole wheat bread next to a Waldorf salad. The final shot was a close up of the prime rib sandwich. The sandwich filled the entire screen as 'Snooker's Sandwiches' appeared in the lower right hand corner of the screen. Generic piano music played softly while the commercial played.