Susan McMillan (the mother of Sarah McMillan) drove back home in her red convertible. Her "work day" was over, if that's what you could call it. There were a lot of other mothers in town who thought that standing around in lingerie while some guy took pictures of you didn't count as actual "work". And frankly, it disgusted some women, knowing that a middle-aged woman was doing that sort of thing to support her family, when other mothers around town worked at the office or some other professional job. Sure, she still looked fit and beautiful at her age of thirty-seven, but still ...
She drove her convertible up the driveway and parked it, then got out. When she arrived at her front door, however, she stopped. Sitting on the porch right in front of the door was a package. She picked it up and looked at it. It was dressed up like a present, complete with a ribbon and bow. And sticking out from underneath the bow was a tag that said: TO SUSAN. She was intrigued, but slightly confused. It wasn't her birthday. Why would someone be giving her a gift?
Susan just shrugged, then took the package into the house with her. Who cared why she got a present? The point was, she got one and she was more than willing to open it up to see what she got.
So after heading into the living room and sitting down on the sofa, she tore off all the wrapping paper, the ribbon, and the bow. Underneath was a plain white cardboard box, like the ones that clothing came in, when birthday and Christmas gifts come from a store.
"I wonder what it could be," she whispered to herself.
Then she opened the box.
