29 May, Freewriters Community Daily Writing Prompt (Day 3118) Part 6 | Prompt: throw him under the bus (echarle la culpa a él)
Published on HivePostify by @justclickindiva · Sat Aug 29 2026
[Source](https://www.pexels.com/photo/scenic-garden-path-with-vibrant-pink-flowers-29334107/)
>! [Recap Parts 1 Thru 5] > >Beverly Buckley, now an empty nester, with her two children away at college, was feeling peculiar that particular summer when she decided to shake things up a bit in her household. Her husband, Lionel was the perfect target to "throw under the bus" after a mishap in their subdivision involving the death of the community petunias. > >Running for re-election, Preston Milworth, HOA President, desperately needed to find the culprit before their next HOA meeting. An anonymous tip from Beverly, led him to her doorstep and a confrontation with her husband, Lionel, and his best friend and next door neighbor, Stanley. Unable to defend himself, Preston concluded that Lionel was guilty. Stanley's neighborhood theories about suppression and undercover militia operation by the HOA confused everyone. > >Inside, Beverly watched through the blinds, listening, sipping her coffee and shaking her head with bitter satisfaction. However, Beverly didn't count on Preston taking his vindictive nature to the extreme. > >The HOA sent a Demand Letter demanding $5K as restitution for the damaged flowers. The neighborhood petunia crisis mushroomed into a full-blown assault on her family with financial consequences she didn't anticipate in her "throw him under the bus" scheme. > >The situation required desperate measures. Beverly pondered that night how best to handle the situation and put this issue to bed once and for all.
Summer of the Great Petunia Poisoning and Other Dilemmas - Part 6
The next morning, Beverly strode across her lawn, walked right up to Stanley's door, and knocked. She hadn't spoken to him directly in over six months. Not excited to deal with his eccentrics, she braced herself. To her surprise, a young lady answered.
"Hello. I'm your uncle Stanley's neighbor next door, Beverly Buckley. My husband is Lionel. Do you mind if I speak with you a moment?"
"Sure, Mrs. Buckley. I remember Mr. Lionel from next door," the young lady replied, her voice suddenly rising in a friendlier tone. "Uncle Stanley said he's a nice fellow and been a good neighbor and friend all these years after my aunt up and ran off with another man."
She paused. "My mom said that uncle went away to rest after the incident. When he returned, he was better than before."
Beverly didn't want to know how Stanley was "before", and was glad she didn't know him then. Candice didn't think in the slightest about the fact that she was telling her uncle's story to a complete stranger.
"Oh, Hi. I'm Candice. Nice to meet you," she blurted as though shaking off cobwebs.
So candid was Candice.
Beverly hadn't expected Candice to fill in her uncle's personal story. Knowing Stanley now, she could understand the Ghillie suits. Beverly tried to divert her gaze, but her eyes kept returning to the huge feline tattoos sitting atop two voluptuous mounds. She remembered previously eyeing Candice from her front window. From that distance, her attributes shined through the midday sun. Up close; even more revealing.
She shook off the distraction. "I saw you were visiting and wondered if you'd like to have brunch. It's almost ready. My back yard gazebo?"
"Sure. How thoughtful of you. Uncle Stanley never mentioned Lionel's wife or how nice you were. That was odd of him."
"Odd indeed. One of a kind; your uncle is! See you in thirty." Beverly's face gave no indication of her sarcastic thoughts; just turned and headed home to finish brunch.
Beverly whistled while mixing fresh lemonade.
Plan A. Step 2.
If nothing else, Candice was punctual.
Beverly guided her through the living room. "Such a lovely home you have, Mrs. Buckley. So cultivated."
No one had ever described her home as such. Genuinely, she smiled. "Come sit outside in the gazebo. It warm today. I see you know how to dress for the occasion."
Between bites, Candice stated with conviction, "Mr. Lionel is so handsome. I'd say "hot" and such a deep thinker like my uncle, Stanley."
Caught off guard, Beverly's eyes widened, almost choking on her croissant sandwich. "Are you referring to My Lionel?" clenching her mouth. She'd never encountered anyone who thought her husband was "hot".
She couldn't help herself.
"Don't judge a book by its cover, young lady. The closest Lionel Buckley ever came to any type of education was to drop his children off at their college dorms. But you know what, he's managed over the years to acquire some unique higher learning attributes. He's got a Bachelors in Recliner Science and a Masters in Remote Control Management."
Candice stared blankly at Beverly.
Woe, Beverly shouted to herself. And to think there was another one out there that equaled the level of her husband and his best friend. Anyway, Candice would do even better than hiring a professional. She already looked the part. And the part she was required to perform with didn't require any degree.
The perfect moment presented itself.
"Candice, if you think Lionel Buckley is deserving of your attention, then why not help me...no him and your uncle Stanley out of a tricky situation that arose recently. We all are being treated unfairly within our neighborhood. I would truly appreciate it. And you're invited for dinner one night. It's ashamed my son is at college. He'd love to meet you." She waited.
"How lovely an idea. And you don't mind that I have a crush on your husband?"
"Why NO! It's kind of refreshing. He'd love the attention. He's been a bit down lately with all his troubles of sort."
"Sure, what can I do to help?"
Beverly left Candice sitting in the gazebo, singing along to a hip hop tune. Before returning, she watched her from the kitchen window, smiling. Rocking to the headphone music, Beverly flashed a photo of Preston Milworth.
"Have you ever seen or met this guy?" she asked directly, expecting Candice to be completely honest.
It didn't take but a moment. "Yea, I've seen him several times. He's a regular. I took to him right off, and he to me. Kind of handsome too. I love older, more mature, established men. My uncle Stanley introduced us two years ago when I came to visit. You see, he was upset at uncle for some reason and posted a note on his door. We chatted for several minutes. I didn't get his name. But the next month, he showed up at my job. He likes me to call him 'Big Daddy'. What did you say his name was?"
"Preston Milworth." Beverly let slip a wry smile. I imagine one would want to use an alias when frequenting the establishments. Rightly so, when serious role-playing is involved, if my notes were accurate, she thought. Another tidbit. Surprised but not shocked, Beverly nodded. And to think I accidentally discovered someone who could validate our illustrious HOA President's true hidden talents, or so he thought. A stroke of luck, indeed.
Not wanting to get completely sidetracked, she took the opportunity to address Candice's view, remembering the talk with her own daughter.
"You know young lady, there are plenty of older, established men who do stupid things too, so don't discount the younger ones. They have a life ahead of them to learn, try different things, and hopefully correct ones that don't work and mature. That is, if they meet the right woman to guide them who have the same ambition." Beverly looked at Candice with hope in her heart.
"You sound like my mom. Always preaching about my profession. Perhaps one day."
"Perhaps," Beverly readily agreed, ensuring she didn't malign Candice's current means of employment. "I have a proposal for you."
When finished, Beverly relaxed in the gazebo as Candice let slip several giddy laughs. The plan was taking shape. All she had to do was keep Candice on point and heading down the petunia path.
"I like you," Candice spurted suddenly, interrupting Beverly's thoughts.
"You remind me of my mom. She loved all things flowers, petunias were her specialty. She tried to involve me in her passion. I listened, but didn't have her green thumb. Accidents do happen. I can tell you without a doubt that your subdivision petunias were poisoned, but not by your burnt zucchini bread," she stated matter-of-fact after Beverly showed her a close-up photo of the HOA's flower bed.
Beverly's ears pricked back. "How do you know?"
"According to my mom, the biggest threat to petunias is Tobacco Budworms. A precise application of DiPel Solution kills the worms. 1 If not, you've got a bunch of dead ass petunias on your hands. But no worries, they're inexpensive flowers to purchase and maintain."
Candice paused, as though thinking further on the subject.
"The nerve of that HOA fellow trying to pin the petunia death on lovely Mr. Lionel. What I don't understand is why did he thinks they were worth five grand to replace? It's not right. And, another thing. I'll bet you two dollars the subdivision yard man mixed too much solution. Yep, enough bacteria to kill ten petunias beds."
"Yep, what a shame," Beverly agreed, "attempting to blame my husband for that mishap. Tell you what, Candice, I have a proposal for you."
Beverly sat sipping her tea and nodding while explaining their neighborhood dilemma with an added surprise. A potential candidate to throw under the bus if Plan A doesn't pan out, she thought.
Beverly relaxed as Candice let slip several giddy laughs as though formulating a particular kind of peculiar plan to right the wrong against Mr. Lionel.
Plan A was set.
Now all Preston Milworth had to do was what he did so well under the cover of night. Engage in his hypocritic oath.
Tags: #freewrite#hispapro#neoxian#indiaunited#aliento#bvdoter#helios#fiction#pob#freewritehouse