In his nearly seventy years on Earth no one had ever called Jeffrey Johannes Schreffler sentimental. He had been called all sorts of other things- cruel, ruthless, uncaring- but never sentimental. Frankly, none of that bothered Jeffrey; he saw himself as a non-nonsense business man who excelled at turning a profit, convinced that some criticism from others was expected with the territory. He was, after all, the highly successful founder and owner of Schreffler Zippers- through hard work and dedication he had made his fortune by outsmarting his rivals. Schreffler Zippers now was the premier fastener provider of New England. Everyone always envied the top dog, Jeffrey reasoned, so he paid little mind to the many who called him an unfeeling bastard or disparaged his cutthroat professional acumen.

But while Jeffrey was not a sentimental man, he did have one soft spot- his beautiful wife, Puppies.

Puppies, of course, was not her actual name. It was Patricia, and most from her distant past still knew her by her preferred nickname of “Pippi”. Jeffrey had met Puppies years earlier when the young woman turned up for a secretarial job interview at Schreffler Zippers in a low-cut blouse and tight pants. She had mentioned her correct nickname then, but Jeffrey had misheard her; with his attention on the ‘puppies’ being presented before him by her outfit, Jeffrey had assumed she was being coquettish. Puppies never corrected him and had easily accepted the new moniker; it seemed all but appropriate, due to her regular plunging wardrobe choices.

Puppies likewise was not Jeffrey’s first wife. She was more than thirty years his junior and had had expensive plastic surgeries to ensure she always retained her youthful glow. The fact that she was even younger than Jeffrey’s three adult children from his previous marriage did not faze the Schreffler patriarch- since marrying Puppies, Jeffrey felt at least five years younger himself. When he stared into Puppies’ beautiful bright blue eyes Jeffrey could almost forget the real world around him.

There was certainly plenty about the real world he wished he could forget.

Jeffrey presently sat at the head of the table in his fabulous mansion’s dining room. At the other end of the table sat his beloved Puppies, her head looking down at her plate as she cut into her omelette. It was a mundane action, but Jeffrey could watch her with delight no matter what she was doing. This morning, however, his stern gaze scanned the other members of his family who had joined him for breakfast.

To his immediate left sat his only son and oldest child, Jeffrey Gregory (or Jay Greg, as he was called). Though he had recently turned forty, Jay Greg had a thin lankiness to him like a teenager experiencing a puberty growth spurt. He wore a green sweater with a collared blue shirt beneath it, but the clothing seemed to hang gawky on his flimsy body. A few scraggly hairs poked out of his chin; it was Jay Greg’s sorry excuse for a beard. He sat slowly stirring some cream into his coffee; real men drank their coffee black, Jeffrey believed, so that his heir did not was one of many sore points between the two men.

Jeffrey may have been his father, but he did not hold Jay Greg with much regard.

On the other side of Jay Greg sat Jeffrey’s oldest daughter and second born, Theresa. She had once been Jeffrey’s favorite child, for she had seemed to share his passion for business and be of a similar mind. But then she had decided to elope with Godwin Trotts, the grandson of Jeffrey’s greatest enemy, Archie Trotts. Their marriage had failed quickly, but the damage was done; Jeffrey could not look at Theresa and not feel the pain of betrayal.

Jeffrey may have been her father, but he did not hold Theresa with much regard.

Across the table from Jay Greg sat Jeffrey’s third child, Stella. She was the last of the children he had had with his first wife and physically bore the most resemblance to his former spouse. This morning, Stella had a strange smile across her face as she happily picked up a piece of bacon with her fingers. Truthfully, Stella often had a strange smile on her face. Stella, if asked, would explain it quite succinctly: she was in love and always thinking of her sweetheart. The issue, of course, was the identity of her beau- she gave his name as Orbitrian Lunastromos and explained that he was literally the Man in the Moon, communicating telepathically to her from space. Jeffrey had never had much patience for what he perceived as pretend and refused to remotely consider that Stella’s romance was anything but make-believe.

Jeffrey may have been her father, but he did not hold Stella with much regard.

Finally, to Stella’s other side, sat Jeffrey’s youngest daughter and only child with Puppies. The little girl had just turned six and was poking her food slowly with her fork. He had wanted to name the little girl Carla, in honor of a late family member, but Puppies was insistent she be given a name that advertised her high standing in the world. Jeffrey had relented- after all, if it made Puppies happy, he was happy- and the girl was named Gabbana in honor of the Dolce and Gabbana fashion line. Did Jeffrey particularly like that name? No, but then again, Jeffrey had not ever expected to have another child; in fact, he had gotten a vasectomy while married to his first wife and assumed that meant he would be child-free from then on. When Puppies got pregnant, she insisted his vasectomy must not have been properly performed so Jeffrey had gotten another vasectomy to ensure no additional snafus in the future. Becoming a father again so late in life, Jeffrey found it hard to feel strong paternal instincts towards Gabbana.

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Jeffrey may have been her father, but he did not hold Gabbana with much regard.

As he looked about at the company, Jeffrey decided to dramatically clear his throat. All seated looked up. Puppies raised her head, her gentle glance meeting his.

“You know, Puppies,” Jeffrey said in a commanding manner, clearly wanting everyone present to hear, “I was looking at the calendar earlier. Can you believe that next Wednesday is going to be our ten-year wedding anniversary?”

The silence that followed was long and awkward.

“…has it already been ten years?” Puppies finally replied, though it was not with any enthusiasm.

“Yes, it seems like it was just yesterday, doesn’t it? Doesn’t that make you feel happy? We’ve been together nearly a decade!”

“It makes me feel old,” Puppies glumly answered. It was not quite the reaction Jeffrey had expected.

He continued: “Old? Oh no, my dear, you are as young and radiant as ever! I was thinking- ten happy years of wedded bliss. I believe that calls for a celebration. What do you think, Puppies?”

“A…celebration?” came a small croak from Jay Greg beside Jeff. The younger man stopped stirring his coffee and stared with his mouth agape at his father.

“Yes, that’s what I said. An anniversary celebration. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You…you’ve never had a celebration before. Of any kind. You’ve always said you openly despise parties of all types.”

“Yes, well,” Jeffrey smiled as he looked over to his wife. “Puppies has had to put up with me- with all of us- for ten years. She deserves a fancy celebration. An expression of my deep love for her. I suppose.”

Jay Greg closed his open jaw and looked downtrodden at the beverage before him.

"If it’s been ten years since you married…her…” remarked Theresa, a scowl on her face as she gestured in her stepmother’s direction, “it’s also been ten years since Mom died. Mom, your wife of, what, thirty-five years? Who you never threw a ten-year anniversary celebration for, or a twenty-year celebration, or a thirty-year celebration or…did anything like that. I don’t suppose you’re going to also throw a ten-year remembrance service for Mom now that you’re in a celebrating mood?”

“Why would I do that?” Jeffrey quipped back, “I’m talking about throwing a ten-year anniversary celebration for Puppies and I. Your mother’s death has no place in this.”

“Doesn’t it?” returned Theresa, “Mom is dead because of her-“

“-Don’t you dare talk like that!” Jeffrey slammed his fist on the table. His eyes fell to Puppies, though to his relief she did not seem particularly offended by the comment.

“It’s okay, Jeffy,” Puppies said, holding up a hand. She casually glanced over to Theresa. “I am sorry how things turned out with your mother, Theresa, and I suppose I can understand why you blame me. But I cannot help that your father and I fell in love and I cannot help that your mother chose to take her own life because of that. I hope in time, when you’re older, you’ll be able to understand a little better.”

Theresa narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you talk to me like you have some sort of aged sagely wisdom. You’re four years younger than I am!”

Suddenly, Stella let out a laugh.

“Why waste time throwing any kind of party?” she mused cryptically, “Orbitrian says none of this will matter when he comes to get me.”

Gabbana looked over to Puppies. “Mommy, she’s saying scary things again.”

“Theresa,” Jeffrey returned the focus to his daughter, “you will show Puppies respect! She is my wife whether you like that or not.”

“Her name is ‘Puppies’, how much can you really expect me to respect her?” Theresa replied.

“Just because your marriage fell apart doesn’t give you the right to be cynical about other marriages.”

“Why my marriage fell apart has nothing to do with any of this. Besides, you hated that I was married to Godwin, so I’dve thought you’d be happy I was back home!”

“Oh yeah, I’m thrilled, my Benedict Arnold flesh and blood, returned once more!”

“I wouldn’t have married Godwin if you hadn’t married this…this gold-digging whore!”

Puppies let out a dramatic gasp.

“What did I just say?” hissed Jeffrey across the table, “you will show Puppies respect!”

“How can you be so in denial, Dad? I don’t care what sort of problems you and mom were having at the time! You know Mom’s learning that you and your secretary were sleeping together- the way she did- is the reason she decided to jump to her death-“

“-ENOUGH!” Again, Jeffrey slammed his fist on the table. “If you cannot show your stepmother respect you are no longer welcome in this home!”

“I came back for you! I thought you wanted me here! The whole time I was married to Godwin you kept pleading with me to come back, yet here I am and now you’re sending me away because of your floozy of a wife-“

From a side door on the back wall a young man in uniform stuck his head into the dining room. It was Tomas Tweed, the family chauffer. He scanned the area for a moment and then apologetically bowed his head.

“Excuse me, everyone,” he said politely as his eyes then fell on Theresa, “I’m here to take you to your appointment, Ms. Schreffler?”

“Ms. Schreffler-Trotts,” Theresa corrected him as she shot a glance at her father, “I was thinking to drop the Trotts, but now I’m thinking maybe not. I know how much some of us here love that name combination.”

Both Jeffrey and Tomas seemed to wince as she said ‘Trotts’. The driver’s wince in particular did not go unnoticed by Puppies who was seated close by him.

“Appointment?” Jeffrey inquired, the rage still in his voice.

“Does it matter? I have a doctor’s appointment,” answered Theresa and she rose to her feet. “But don’t you worry about me. Please, by all means, keep planning your precious ten-year anniversary party for Puppies. She deserves it.”

“Ah, have you and the second Mrs. Schreffler been married ten years now?” remarked Tomas as he waited for his client to walk over, “congratulations to you both!”

“See, Theresa,” muttered Jeffrey, “some people actually recognize the importance of a lasting, successful marriage. Thank you, Tomas.”

Theresa’s brother Jay Greg remained staring blankly at the beverage before him. No one seemed to notice his solemn mood had persisted once his father had announced his intended celebration plans.

I have to get her alone, I have to talk to her, he thought to himself over and over. It was subtle, but his eyes glided slightly in the direction of Puppies; she had, however, returned to her omelette, and seemed to be paying little mind to anything but the food before her.