Fireplaces

Fiorella, as you've probably already guessed, is obsessed with fires--in their proper place, that is.

Her first childhood home sported a working fireplace which her parents, with a big, coal-eating furnace in the basement, seldom used. Although Fiorella was at the picturebook stage and developed fantasies of a roaring fire sprouting from stacked logs in that space, all she ever saw in it was a few lumps of coal generating weak tonguelicks of flame.

Fiorella's first, second, and third marital homes did not boast fireplaces, even fake ones, but she hit the jackpot on her fourth one, and Husband proudly demonstrated his Scoutmaster skills with one-match fires when the gas jet went out of commission. Fio was in fireplace heaven. She especially loved it when the children gathered on Christmas mornings, claimed their gifts from beneath the tree (stationed next to the fireplace, of course), and opened them on the couch in front of a picturebook fire. Unless, of course, it was eighty degrees outside.

And now, in Fio's fifth house, she has TWO fireplaces, although only one is real. One mustn't push Husband too far. After all, he is also the one who cleans out the ash.