I'm complaining to Cheryl about my inept husband Greg and horrid brats, Josh, Zac and Mia when I hear the doorbell. "Sorry, Cher, someone's at the door." I sigh, ending the call.

I walk through the messy living room, my flip flops slapping against floor. I stop before the hallway mirror to check my dyed blonde hair and adjust my low cut top. The doorbell rings again, more insistently.

"Alright, calm down!"

Taking a deep drag of my cigarette, I hold my smile in place and open the door.