“For God’s sake, Sheila, what do you think you’re doing?”

As a tear fell down her cheek, Sheila held the ripped newspaper up to her husband. “You’ve shredded our marriage, Truman, so why can’t I shred this?” She tossed the paper to the floor. “Do you even remember what you said in the article?”

Truman’s silence spoke volumes. Sheila stepped towards her husband, seemingly oblivious to her own nudity. If not for Sheila’s hysterics, however, Truman would have aroused by his wife’s lack of clothing, as the 31 year old blonde looked nearly as lovely as she had on their wedding day almost 10 years before.

Sheila quoted the article from memory. “I’ll never give up hope.” Truman shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “That’s what you said.”

“I can’t be the same naïve man I was before, Sheila.” Truman paused, considering his words carefully. “Where are your clothes? Don’t tell me you shredded them too.”

“I’m not wearing anything today. If I’m not wearing anything, then I won’t have to go to the f -- f - f--“

“Funeral,” Truman said, getting his wife’s words out for her.

“She’s not dead,” Sheila said, her voice lowering. “Don’t you think a mother would know if her child was dead? You can’t have a funeral for someone who’s still alive.”

“Don’t you think I wished that was true? Truman approached his wife as he hissed in her direction. “I loved her as much as anyone did. But I can’t bring back Patty--“

Sheila flinched at the mention of her stepdaughter’s name. There had been an unwritten rule in the house that her name was not to be uttered, and of all the days for Truman to break the rule, this was the worst possible one. Her eyes widened as she backed away from her husband.

Truman said nothing as Sheila escaped down the hallway of their posh suburban home. Sheila pulled open the door to Patty’s bedroom and slipped inside, slamming the door behind her.

Sheila escaped to her daughter’s bedroom every day, and sometimes more than once a day. She couldn’t explain why, but merely being in the room gave her a sense of peace.

Nothing in the room had been changed since Patty’s disappearance six months before. Just as always, Patty’s bed was filled with teddy bears. The mirror on the wall looked just as it always had, except for the thick layer of dust covering it. Sheila had refused to make any changes to the room, and that even included dusting.

Still not caring about her nudity, Sheila looked out the bedroom window to the backyard, drawn to stare out at the very place she had last seen her daughter. Had it really been over six months since she’d last seen Patty?

As the thoughts of her daughter overwhelmed her, Sheila forced herself to look away from her backyard. She instead glanced at the Lockwood home next door. Here she was, naked as the day she was born, and refusing to go to her daughter’s funeral. Surely, she thought, the Lockwoods’ lives were so much more normal compared to hers.

----

“Dude, look over there. Mrs. Brent is naked!”

Nineteen year old Evan Reed handed his binoculars to his best friend, Justin Lockwood. Justin didn’t put them to his eyes, but instead he shrugged at Evan.

“These are supposed to be for looking at birds.”

“Who cares about birds, when you can look at some pussy?”

“Nice, Evan. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Evan grabbed the binoculars back from Justin. “Suit yourself.” And then he went back to staring at Sheila. Even from this distance, he could see the tears running down her cheeks. Strangely enough, though, Sheila’s grief made her look even hotter to Evan.

Justin glanced in the direction of the Brent home, but then pulled his eyes away. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at Sheila Brent, even if she was standing at the window in the buff. When it came to his friendship with Evan, it was always Evan who was willing to take things one step further than he’d like. Unlike Evan, Justin knew what was right and wrong.

The door to Justin’s bedroom door opened, and Justin’s mother, Harriet Lockwood, pushed her head into the room. “Would you boys like some milk and cookies?” she cooed. Evan pulled his hands away from his crotch.

“No thanks, Mom,” Justin said quickly.

The slightly plump, forty-four year old Harriet smiled at her son and his friend, never once suspecting they’d been talking about the naked next door neighbor. Justin and Harriet had never been close, but in the past year, they’d become even more distant from each other.

“Don’t forget the funeral’s in just over an hour. We’ll have to leave for the cemetery soon.”

“Alright, Mom.” As Justin tried to keep from meeting his mother’s gaze, she looked towards the window.

“What is it you two are looking at?”

“Nothing!” Justin said. But he spoke so quickly he gave away his lie. “Just a bird.”

“A nice one,” Evan said, with a grin.

“Well I’d love to take a look.”

Justin inhaled as Harriet moved to the window. She took the binoculars from her son’s hand and scanned the outside area. “I don’t see anything.”

“I guess it flew away,” Justin said. He grabbed the binoculars back from his mother then used them to look towards the Brent home. Sheila had gone back inside. Thank God! He breathed a sigh of relief.

Harriet exited the room, closing the door behind her. As she left, Evan clapped his hand on his friend’s back. “Close one, eh?”

“Too close.” Justin frowned. “You’d better go home and change for the funeral.”

Shrugging, Evan did as suggested, leaving the room. With Evan gone, Justin sat the binoculars on his bed.

Now it was all he could do to keep from thinking about Sheila Brent’s naked body. Just the thought of her made his crotch tingle -- and that was the last thing he wanted. No, if only Evan had known the truth . . . known why he didn’t dare to think about Sheila.

Justin slowly began to strip out of his street clothes so he could slip into the shower before dressing for the funeral. With his T-shirt and jeans off, all that was left was his underwear to cover his black body.

Realizing he was undressing in front of the window, Justin hurriedly shut the drapes, lest he follow Mrs. Brent’s mistake. He didn’t dare let anyone else see what he was hiding beneath his boxer briefs. Justin would have laughed, had he known. “Damn you, Mom,” he thought to himself.

Justin pulled off his boxer briefs with one quick tug, then winced as he glanced down . . . at the chastity belt that held his privates close to his body.

-----

Across the street from the Brent and Lockwood homes, Lukas Kinsley held open his car door for his eight month pregnant wife, Jana. “I’m forgetting something, I just know it,” he rambled to himself. “My bag?” No--a glance down to his side revealed his wife’s bag was hanging from his hand. “My cellphone?” No, he could feel that in his pocket.

And then he realized what he’d left behind in the house: “Jana!” Lukas started towards the front door of his house, but stopped as the door burst open and Jana waddled out. “I didn’t forget you, honey--“

“Yes, you did,” Jana said, with a laugh. “Just like you did when I gave birth the first time. And the second time. Some things never change!”

Moments later, Lukas had his wife safely in their car, and then within minutes they were on the road headed for Meadowhaven General Hospital. Lukas kept looking towards his wife, as if expecting the baby to burst out at any moment. For her part, Jana seemed carefree for someone who was on the brink of giving birth. As Lukas rounded the corner that would lead them to the hospital, Jana put her hand on Lukas’s. He squeezed her hand, enjoying the last quiet moment they’d have for some time.

For once they’d reached the hospital, there was no quiet. First Lukas rushed her to the front desk of the maternity ward, and then the nurse put her into a wheelchair and rushed her to her room, as her husband followed closely behind. Everything happened so fast that, when she later looked back on what happened next, she could only barely believe it had been real.

“You’re almost there,” Dr. Tyler said. “Just one more push, and that should do it!”

Jana did as told, silently telling herself that this was the last time she would ever go through this. At forty, she felt like she’d gone through childbirth as much as she wanted.

“I knew you could do it,” Lukas said, smiling at his wife. He stood nexr to Jana as the doctor finished the delivery.

And that’s when it happened. Dr. Tyler looked down at the baby in he’d taken from Jana. Then he looked over at Lukas. And then back to the baby.

“Is something wrong?” Lukas said.

“I . . . I don’t know.” The doctor held up the newborn baby girl to the expectant parents, and at first, Jana was sure she wasn’t seeing things properly. That couldn’t be her baby . . . could it?

Lukas’s smile vanished from his face at the sight of the child. He didn’t even look back at Jana as he went for the door, flinging it open and then slamming it shut as he exited.

“That’s not my baby,” Jana whispered excitedly. She moaned as Dr. Tyler brought the child towards her. She knew something had gone horribly wrong. As Dr. Tyler placed the baby in Jana’s arms, she let out a sob, recognizing at once that the child had her nose, her head shape -- and not a single trace of Lukas’s looks. More importantly, how had the lily-white Kinsleys given birth to an Asian-American child?