“June, there’s something I need to tell you now that the boys are grown and out of the house.”
“Yes dear,” she replied smoothing down her apron.
“June, you’ve been a great wife, and the Beaver and Wally have grown into fine men but I’m in love with my secretary and want a divorce.”
June will never forget that day and sometimes when she’s mixing a nice dry martini with blue cheese-stuffed olives, Ward’s words ring in her ears. She laughs and remembers how she threw three perfectly good martini glasses at him. He only needed a few stitches but sadly the rug was ruined.
“Dinner is at 8:00 and I’ll have all your favorites. Oh, and I have a tasty little surprise for you,” June demurely whispered and hung up the phone. Ah yes, she had quite a treat for her date besides dinner. She loved La Perla lingerie and had just purchased a fabulously sexy pink, satin and lace teddy with matching panties. It was hot and June liked to think she was also. “Yum, I can’t wait for tonight,” she thought.
Life was so much better without Ward. Of course she got a huge divorce settlement given the guilt he felt in keeping his affair secret all those years and also because of the large amount of Microsoft stock he owned . It was safe to say June was filthy rich and loved her days spent shopping at Neiman Marcus and lunching at RL. Her best purchase, she liked to brag, was her face lift, as she refused to let Ward rob her of the prettiest years of her life. No one knows how, but she found out who Diane Sawyer’s plastic surgeon was and came home looking 15 years younger.
June didn’t like dating men her age. She had her fill of the tired, wrinkled, paunchy, age appropriate men she met and preferred younger guys with flat abs, and a pharmaceutical free sex drive. June was a cougar and having a blast.
When the door bell rang at 8:00 that evening everything was perfect. She had dinner prepared by her favorite caterer so she could spend her time getting a mani/pedi and blow dry. She wore her new Marc Jacobs, low cut, little black wrap dress and of course her 3-inch silver Manolo Blahnik sling backs. She took one last peek in the mirror, pulled the dress down just a teenie bit more in front and went to the door.
“Why darling come in, you look so handsome tonight,” she cooed. There stood Eddie Haskell, now a 40 year old investment banker who had made June even richer over the years by putting her in Apple and Intel. June had recently begun to think that Eddie might be getting a little too old for her but tonight he was all hers.