But all thoughts of my parents vanished when, trekking down the hallway to SueEllen’s bathroom, I spotted Larkspur O’Leary coming out of one of the bedrooms. Which struck me as odd since, as far as I knew, SueEllen got her massages in her massive bathroom.

What was even more odd was Larkspur’s appearance. Her face was flushed, her lipstick was smeared outside her lip line, and her long blond hair was disheveled, as if someone had just whipped it with an egg beater. And, to top things off in the Odd Department, she was hastily buttoning her gauzy pink blouse.

Call me Sherlock, but she had all the earmarks of a woman who’d just been having sex. Or, as The Blob used to call it, Fandango.

“Hi, Larkspur!” I chirped.

She looked up from her blouse, and smiled nervously.

“Oh. Hello, Jaine,” she said, quickly pulling the door shut behind her.

The woman reeked of Aramis aftershave. I knew it was Aramis because that’s what The Blob used to wear when he was in the mood for Fandango. I used to try to convince him a shower would be a more effective aphrodisiac, but to no avail. Only one of the many reasons we are no longer man and wife.

Anyhow, Larkspur was reeking of the stuff.

And then I remembered: Hadn’t Brad smelled of aftershave the other night? Now that I thought about it, I was almost certain it was Aramis. Was it possible that Larkspur was having a thing with Brad? Had he dashed home from school for some extracurricular activity with his mother’s masseuse?

“So, Larkspur,” I said. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, super,” she said, a nervous smile plastered on her face. “Just super.” Then she looked at her watch, and pretended to be surprised. “Wow. Would you look at the time. I’m late for my next appointment. Gotta run.”

And that she did, like a scared rabbit, down the hallway, her masseuse’s table clunking against her thighs.

I stared at the door to the room she’d just come out of, debating whether or not to open it.

Don’t be a fool, Sensible Me said. Brad could have you fired.

So what? said Nutcase Me. I don’t like this crummy job anyway.

This went on for a minute or two, Sensible Me arguing with Nutcase Me. In the end, as she always does, the Nutcase won.

I opened the door. Just a few inches, enough for me to peek inside. The room, undoubtedly once a bedroom, had been converted into a home gym. Loaded with big-ticket exercise equipment. But the most important thing about the room, as far as I was concerned, was the floor-to-ceiling mirror covering one of the walls. Because that’s where I saw the reflection of Larkspur’s lover hiding behind a stairmaster, zipping his fly.

And no, it wasn’t Brad.

It was his father, Hal.

Hoping Hal hadn’t seen me in the mirror, I sped down the hallway to SueEllen’s bathroom. I scurried inside and was surprised to see the tub was empty. SueEllen had abandoned her perch in her marble throne, and was taking a shower. I could see the foggy outline of her fabulous body getting sprayed from all sides by multiple shower jets.