You want anything for yourself?"Cynthia asked."No dear, I am fine. You enjoy your day, okay?" Mark said, as hekissed his wife goodbye."Sure will. See ya later," Cynthia said and helped herself out.Mark stood by the window and saw his wife pull out in the car. Hestared for some time, making sure Cynthia was well and truly gonebefore he started with what he had in mind.While Mark and Cynthia both had their own separate closets, there wasa trunk, kept away in the store room. The store room normally heldtools that might come in handy to do some household repairs. And assuch, did not hold much attention of Cynthia. Also, Mark was verydiligent in keeping the room clean. Therefore, Cynthia never had achance to suspect that the store room would hold something else. Atrunk, full of clothes and other accessories. Not just ordinaryclothes, women's clothes. Dresses, bras, panties and so on. This wasMark's secret. Mark, the hard working gentleman, the loving husbandand the closeted. The two bags that Jessica had brought in were in her room, waiting.This was time to get down to, as my mother would say, 'brass tacks.' I had always wondered where that expression came from, but not enough to look it up. At any rate, here we are."I want to hear the details," I said."John," Theresa said, in a tone that sounded like she really didn't want this conversation.Fortunately for me, it had taken a good ten minutes to get us here. I had time to think.I looked at her and said, "I'm guessing that you are not taking me in by the goodness of your heart. You want, and need, to be compensated."The blank stare she gave me made me realize that she hadn't thought about that. She knew there was money, but just how the details would work had eluded her."I guess you're right," Theresa answered, as her demeanor changed."This time," I said with a little smile. "Now, let's see what we have. I'm going to pay what for living here? In other words, how much do you want, and what do I get?"These.
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