Just Desserts

 I have fought for some status in life using my body and a great deal of manipulation.  It  involved a lot of living hand to hand and of wresting opportunities into making a better life.  I finally have made a turn onto easy street with my marriage to inventor and marketer of such products as the Slice O Matic,  Reeler Rod Pocket Angler,  No-Smoke Ashtray, and the TV Easy Rotisserie. It was very difficult and vexing to beat off competition to finally snare the old fart as my own, taking over as the fifth Mrs Donald Rompeel - only a year after the untimely demise of the 4th. .

I was rummaging in the kitchen of baronial Rompeel Manor looking through kitchen cannisters. I opened the largest , a flour container that looked  old enough to be handed down from his grandmother. There was no flour, and more importantly, no stash of cash or negiotable notes. Damn!  Well, there was this letter, which I took out and began to read...

“Dear Newest Wife and Gold Digger,

I know you have managed to corral my husband Don, and I know you, by now, have found out he is more adept at spending money than he is inventing things.  I can tell you my years of work trying to contain his lavish spending were to great consternation and little avail.  The endless parade of young vixens turning his lascivious attention from home and hearth were my enduring sadness. However , I rest knowing the children are well provided for with  irrevocable trusts.  ( Note : irrevocable . )  Rompeel Manor is mortgaged to the hilt in  support of Ron’s insatiable quest to surround himself with younger woman in an unsupportable lifestyle.  No doubt you are rifling the house looking for things of value you can sell to get some measure of what you feel is your just reward for landing this whale.  As unsympathetic as I am to your lot, I do offer this note as some consolation  to you.
No doubt you are near exhaustion running around the house looking for the fortune of grandiose jewelry portrayed in the several paintings of me positioned on walls around the manorhouse. The diamond tiara and necklace depicted in my portrait in a Givencey in the parlour, the sapphire and ruby broach and ear rings on me wearing the Chanel in the dining room, and the emerald rope and impressive 20 carat diamond ring shown in the oil of me wearing a Valentino gown hung in the master bedroom.
Rest easy child, these jewels do NOT exist. Never did. I had all the paintings done just for this very occasion , with intent of driving you crazy trying to find where all this glittery loot was stashed.  Now  you can just settle down and take stock on what little you have until Donald finds yet another willing and eager money grubber .
Take solace in the fact there is probably enough left selling the mansion fixtures to get a good divorce attorney.
Karma is a bitch.

all love,
The late 4th Mrs Donald Ropeel ”

-Jerry Wendt 2017