Well, she couldn't blame him too much. They'd hired Hilda shortly after Ricky was born. Ricky had never known another cook or housekeeper. Even when Hilda had taken vacations – as she was doing now for a few weeks – they'd hired temporary cooks and housekeepers. The only reason Alice hadn't hired a temporary servant this time was that she hadn't gotten around to it yet.

Alice suddenly envisioned herself cooking a meal for the boys. She saw herself doing housework, washing clothes. Maybe she ought to try these things again. Maybe they'd do her some good, help fill up and order her somewhat empty and aimless days. She was herself waxing floors, throwing dirty underwear into the washer.

She laughed at herself. You can't be serious, Alice, she thought. Then she realized she was serious.

We'd have to fire Hilda, she thought, and then felt a sense of relief, almost elation. Maybe it would be worth going back to work just to get rid of Hilda. The old bag was getting worse every year. She demanded more and more time off, demanded more and more pay, and had just about taken over rule of the house. It was only when Paul was home that Hilda acted like a servant and not like the mistress of the house. The moment Paul flew off to Japan or someplace, Hilda became her grim, demanding, bitchy self again. Wouldn't it be nice to be rid of her sour puss once and for all?

Alice was feeling high as an air balloon above the rain clouds as she exited the freeway. She'd try out getting back to work. If she could swing working again, it would be bye-bye Hilda. Paul would never agree to firing Hilda for another housekeeper. But Paul couldn't deny Alice's wish to resume the duties of a housewife.

"Good-bye, Hilda, and good riddance," Alice said aloud as she swung into the parking lot of the health spa.

She surged through her workout in the exercise room in record time, working with free weights and the universal machine. By the time she finished, she was tight and tingly all over.