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Back The Model Wife
Chapters (48)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Also by Tricia Stringer
  5. Title Page
  6. Dedication
  7. One
  8. Two
  9. Three
  10. Four
  11. Five
  12. Six
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Thirteen
  20. Fourteen
  21. Fifteen
  22. Sixteen
  23. Seventeen
  24. Eighteen
  25. Nineteen
  26. Twenty
  27. Twenty-One
  28. Twenty-Two
  29. Twenty-Three
  30. Twenty-Four
  31. Twenty-Five
  32. Twenty-Six
  33. Twenty-Seven
  34. Twenty-Eight
  35. Twenty-Nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-One
  38. Thirty-Two
  39. Thirty-Three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. Thirty-Eight
  45. Author’s Note
  46. Acknowledgements
  47. Excerpt
  48. One

She tossed it aside on the bed and as if to mock her it flipped open at Chapter Four. The heading leaped out at her – ‘Managing the Home’. She sat on the bed, picked it up and read. The model wife is proud of the home her husband provides for her and to show her respect she should keep it perfectly clean and without clutter. The word should jumped out at her, and she heard Faye’s voice saying don’t let anyone should you. But she had, hadn’t she. Stuck on the blank page opposite was an old black-and-white photo of the farmhouse. She’d pasted it there not long after Olive had given her the book. She ran her finger over the vast roofline. The kitchen had been updated when the girls were in their teens but it hadn’t been a complete remodel, just replacing outdated items like the oven and the dishwasher. They were almost past their use-by date again. The dishwasher had played up a few times lately and the last time the plumber fixed it he said they’d need to think about replacing it.

How she’d love to give the kitchen a complete makeover. It had been her guilty wish when Olive had announced she wanted to move into town. At last, Natalie had thought, she could make some changes, but it hadn’t happened and lately she didn’t have the energy it would take to renovate. There was enough work just keeping it clean. She did love that house and yet she’d become its employee.

She read the next line in the chapter. Nothing destroys the happiness of married life more than the lazy, slovenly wife. She gave a snort. From the safe distance of another state she could see how she’d adopted that mantra. It was a huge house and she’d kept it as clean and neat as possible, never going out or going to bed until everything was done. Milt had teased her sometimes, saying a few grains of dust or a smear on a window didn’t matter but he’d never understood how much work it took to keep the old house clean. If you let it get away you’d never keep on top of it. Now she thought perhaps he’d been right.

She glanced around her well-appointed hotel room. How easily she’d become used to the indulgence of having someone to clean and tidy up after her. Perhaps if she gave up her teaching she could spend some time doing up the house. The thought was both enchanting and repelling. If she gave up work she knew she truly would become a slave, not only to the house but to the needs of the property.