- Susan? Susan!
- Mrs. Huber, how are you doing?
- Not too well, I’m afraid. I’m trying to find something to soothe my stomach.
- It’s upset?
- Yeah. I had the worst macaroni and cheese at the wake. It’s been running
through me ever since.
And I need to be at my best. Edie Britt’s son is spending the night tonight.
- He’s spending the night?
- Apparently, Edie is having a gentleman friend over for dinner, and I think she
plans on entertaining into the wee hours, if you know what I mean.
Oh, here’s some antacid. Have you ever tried this?
- I can’t believe it. This can’t be happening. Mike can’t like Edie better than
me, he just can’t!
- You don’t know what’s going on. Maybe they’re just having dinner.
- You’re right. They’re doing it.
- Edie? Edie? Hello? Anybody home? I need to borrow sugar.
(Oh, my God! Oh, yes! Give it to me!)
And just like that, the possibility Susan had clung to, the maybe of Mike
Delfino, was gone forever.
And despite the precariousness of her situation, Susan took a moment to mourn
- Oh. Oh! Oh!
It didn’t take Susan long to realize, this was just not her night.
- Is somebody out there?
- Oh, my God! That’s smoke!
- She left candles unattended in the den. Paramedic said she was lucky. She
could’ve been killed.
- She ran out with nothing on.
- She was having sex with some guy when the fire started.
- What happened to him?
- He got smoke inhalation. He’s at the hospital.
- Susan, are you all right? You look awful.
- I’m fine. I’m fine. I just, uh, feel really bad for Edie.
- Oh, honey, don’t worry about Edie. She’s a strong lady.
- Absolutely. She’ll get through this. She’ll find a way to survive.
- We all do.
- Come on.
- Wow! What happened?
And suddenly there he was. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes.
- I… I thought you were… uh… Where were you?
- I just got back from the movies. Edie had a fire, huh?
- Yeah. Yeah, but she’s fine now. Everything’s fine now.
And just like that, Susan was happy. Life was suddenly full of … possibilities.
Not to mention a few unexpected surprises.
- It’s me.
- Have anything yet?
- No, nothing yet. But don’t worry. I’m definitely getting closer.
- I brought some champagne. I thought we should have a toast.
The next day my friends came together to pack away my clothes, my personal
belongings and what was left of my life.
- All right, ladies, lift ‘em up. To Mary Alice, a good friend and neighbor.
Wherever you are, we hope you’ve found peace.
- To Mary Alice.
- To Mary Alice.
- Let’s get this show on the road. You guys, check out Mary Alice’s clothes.
Size eight? Ha! She always told me she was a size six.
- We found the skeleton in her closet.
Not quite, Gabrielle, not quite.
- What’s that?
- A letter addressed to Mary Alice.
How ironic. To have something I tried so desperately to keep secret, treated so
- What are you doing? That’s private.
- It’s open. What’s the big deal?
«I know what you did. It makes me sick. I’m going to tell.»
- What does this mean?
- I don’t know but check out the post mark.
- Oh, my God. She got it the day she died.
- Do you think this is why she…?
I’m so sorry, girls. I never wanted you to be burdened with this.
- Oh, Mary Alice, what did you do?