I am obsessed with watching shows titled, "Deadly Vows," "Women with Knives," and "Beauties that Kill." These life like reinactments are fact based with tasteful back round music added for an extra layer of drama, especially during the blood spattering scenes. When alone I watch intently while munching on kale chips with the remote close by, ready to change the channel in case someone should catch me watching.

Mystified I'll watch ordinary women take the plunge from carpooling Mom, pastor's wife or bank executive, to stuffing a decapitated corpse into a Louis Vuitton suitcase. Not to mention, chatting with a neighbor or scheduling a mani-pedi afterward. They make murder seem as easy as whipping up a batch of brownies. I cannot help but wonder if this morbid fascination has anything to do with the fact I have been married to a man who for the last thirty years will borrow my car and leave the gas tank empty.

Yet I am certain I could never commit a murder and for a few simple reasons. Just the thought of having to scrub blood off of walls and floors would send me into an OCD fit. I could never ruin an expensive set of luggage or spend the rest of my life sharing a toilet with a cellmate named Big Bertha.

Sunday dinners with our family is a weekly ritual. This particular Sunday began as any other. My brother, sister- in- law and nephew were over for spaghetti and meatballs. As we twirled the pasta, and drank homemade wine, the conversation moved leisurely from palate expanders, hurricane Sandy reimbursements, and an argument if Peccorino Roman was tastier that Reggiano Parmagan.

In between chewing, my sister -in- law asked, "Did you hear about Michelle?"

Michelle was a distant relative of my late mother- in -law. She resided in the exact house she'd grown up as a child in Queens. She had two adorable children and a husband named George. Always pleasant and soft spoken, Michelle reminded me of the perfect women to be running through a field in a summers Eve commercial. While George collected machetes, had a tattoo on his cheek and reminded me of someone who associated with people from Hell's Angels.

I shook my head no. My sister-in-law's eyes widened, she flailed her arms and groaned. For a second I thought she was choking on a meatball. When I realized she was about to tell me a huge piece of juicy gossip. I glared at her for making me wait and slapped her back hard, "Tell me."

She set down her fork and lowered her voice, "She stabbed George."


to be continued.....