Mr. and Mrs. Robbins were happy to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They of course, living on Twenty-Two Abberforth Lane, had a reputation to keep. After all, one couldn’t be seen as abnormal in such a fine community, it just simply wouldn’t do. Mr. Robbins was a tall lanky man, contempt to spend his days doing the daily crossword and spending his large inheritance, while Mrs. Robbins herself, whom was rather short compared to her tall spouse, was perfectly happy managing their fine estate and spoiling their 12 year old son, Atticus. Their grass was perfectly trimmed, picket fence perfectly white, and not a piece of furniture went undusted. They certainly had everything they wanted, and neither wanted change nor would accept it if they were to stumble upon it. Indeed, the Robbins family was one of the most stubborn families on the block, but the neighbors dismissed this in turn, for they had lovely redeeming qualities, even if none of them could be thought of at the moment. 
When Mrs. Robbins woke up on an unlawfully hot Tuesday morning, nothing seemed to be out of the normal, which was a promising start to a day. Like normal Mrs. Robbins was the first in the family to wake, and set out to cooking breakfast, leaving her husband and son to sleep in, as they normally do on such mornings. She quietly made her way down stairs, through the perfectly polished parlor, and into the kitchen. She was only half done with her cooking when the post arrived, same time it did every other morning. She pattered down the hallway and collected the mail and newspaper from the slot, before opening the door to check if any packages had arrived as well. Normally, no packages came, for it was rare that the Robbins ordered anything and anyone they knew wouldn’t dare to do something as uncouthly as send them a package in the mail, but today, to Mrs. Robbins displeasure, apparently wasn’t a normal day. She glanced down the street before reaching to pick up the oddly shaped package and bring it inside. Noticing the name on the address, she placed it on the table and tilted her head in puzzlement, wondering who would personally send her a package. She decided to open it, for she was far too curious to wait for her sleeping husband to join her, and it was for her after all. As she tore the wrapping, a radiant look came over her face, and like a sudden burst of sunshine on a cloudy day, her dull look of indifference cleared from her face, only to be replaced by a bright smile. Someone had sent her a gift! “How pleasant!” she thought searching through the box for the card, “I must send a thank you, how perfectly polite, what a nice gesture!” However, as continued her search and still couldn’t find a card or a slip, a small seed of doubt threaded its way into her mind. Her brow furrowed, who would send such a gorgeous necklace and not give their name? A sudden realization came to her and her smile suddenly returned to her face. “Oh how incredibly foolish I am! Who but my darling husband would send me such a fine piece of jewelry? How silly I was for thinking it could be any other, doubtlessly, it would be extremely inappropriate for anyone else to give me such a gift.” Mrs. Robbins concluded rewrapping the gift and folding the packaging away. Besides, it certainly would be viewed wrongly by the neighborhood for a married woman to receive gifts from an unknown man.
Shortly following her finishing breakfast, Mrs. Robbins heard her husband trample down the stairs, lumber through the parlor, and make his way to the kitchen to collect the mail and newspaper Mrs. Robbins had laid in a neat pile, before he sat down at the dining room table. With her face still lit brightly in happiness, Mrs. Robbins fluttered out to greet her husband and began to express her gratitude for the lovely gift. “You certainly outdid yourself my dear!” She exclaimed, her smile glowing radiantly. “I never expected such a surprise, certainly I must wear it to the next community get together! What must have that costed you- oh never mind, I don’t wish to know anyways, it is the thought that counts; I shall be the envy of everyone with your fine gift. And such taste in style my dear! I did not know you had such a lovely eye!” Mrs. Robbins babbled on excitedly, while Mr. Robbins nodded along absentmindedly, transfixed on his crossword puzzle. Noticing this, Mrs. Robbins decided to take herself back to the kitchen. “Truly, such a lovely gift dear, thank you.” Mrs. Robbins said one last time, turning back as she reached the door. Mr. Robbins, seemingly noticing her talking to him, nodded and waved his hand,
“Anytime, darling, anytime,” he said, his focus immediately returning to his newspaper. Satisfied with his response, Mrs. Robbins left to go wake up her sleeping son.
Another summer week went by peacefully, the Robbins family successfully keeping their normality intact. Atticus spent most of his time out with his school friends, doing what Mrs. Robbins did not know, but he seemed to enjoy it, and that was good enough for her. Her husband spent his week mostly in his study, hopefully doing work, but Mrs. Robbins knew not to expect too much of him. Mrs. Robbins herself spent the week as she normally did, keeping herself busy with the house affairs and her social gatherings with the other ladies of Abberforth Lane. At the last gathering, held on Friday as they always are, Mrs. Robbins had the pride of wearing her newest gift from her husband, which received the utmost praise from all those attending. Almost another full week passed by, filled with long summer days, and life did continue on as normal, until the following Sunday, when Mrs. Robbins went to collect the mail from the slot, and found another package sitting on her porch. She looked at box startled, and quickly glanced down the street. To her disappointment, Mrs. Boyce, who lived a mere two houses down from her, was looking at her curiously, and was no doubt going to bring up this incident at their next gathering. She sighed before bringing the package inside, once again setting it on the table. Her husband was not awake, neither was Atticus, so no one was there to stop her when she eagerly tore into the package, thinking it another gift from her husband. Eyes widening in surprise, Mrs. Robbins puled out the bracelet that seemed to match the necklace that she had previously received. Mrs. Robbins was delighted and beamed happily at her husband as he stomped down the stairs that morning. Walking into the kitchen, Mr. Robbins ignored his wife, who was standing to the side putting the last touch on breakfast with a smile, and searched for the mail and newspaper, which were both no where to been seen in the kitchen. Realizing it was a Sunday; he let out an unhappy grunt before moving into the parlor to entertain himself until breakfast was ready. Of course, Mrs. Robbins followed him, wishing to express her thanks for the wonderful gift, and to ask to reason behind his type of delivery. She sat by him and to her surprise, without having to even ask for it, Mr. Robbins’ attention fell to her.
“Mr. Robbins! How nice you are to give me another gift! I must say I like this one just as must as the last! I must question your method of sending them to me in packages however. Not that I do not love the surprise, but why not give it to me yourself?” Mr. Robbins, surprised by the sudden thanks and delight radiated off his wife, expressed his confusion.
“Mrs. Robbins, what gifts do you speak of? I neither gave you no gifts nor know what delivery you may be talking about.” At hearing this, Mrs. Robbins’ face collapsed as if a needle pricked it. An icy chill ran up her arms, making her feel cold and uncomfortable.
“Why Mr. Robbins,” she replied, tone hopeful, “I of course mean the necklace and bracelet that arrived in the mail today and the previous Thursday. Why, I thanked you the week previous? You must know what I speak of.”
“You worry me, Mrs. Robbins, I neither remember you thanking me nor giving you any gift. When did you say this was?” Mr. Robbins inquired voice only hinting at the worry he felt. Mrs. Robbins, face shaped in a solemn mask, gave a hushed reply.
“The first one arrived last Tuesday, and another arrived today.”
“Mrs. Robbins! You must be extremely foolish; did a package arriving on a Sunday not raise even the slightest of suspicion? Nether mail and packages nor newspapers come on Sundays, why would you even check in the first place?” Mrs. Robbins felt her face heat in embarrassment.
“I- I suppose it would be suspicious, I was just doing what I normally do each morning, I do admit it never even crossed my mind.” Mrs. Robbins said, a sudden fear running through her nerves like an icy blast of wind. The couple sat in silence for a moment as both were stuck inside their own thoughts. Mr. Robbins searched his mind to try and find the moment when his wife approached him with the gift, but could not seem to remember her ever mentioning it. This meant, although he would never admit it to anyone else that he might be to blame as well. He dismissed this notion quickly, his wife shouldn’t think of trying to discuss something with him when he is busy anyhow. Meanwhile, Mrs. Robbins was thinking about the implications of this. It meant that she had showed off a gift from an unknown stranger, foolishly assuming it a gift from her husband. What a scandal it would be if the ladies of the Lane ever found out! And Mrs. Boyce! Was it not she who had seen her this morning, how curious she looked, it would no doubt come up at the next gathering. It was then decided in Mrs. Robbins’ mind that she would not be attending the gathering, for she couldn’t bare the embarrassment. The couple looked at each other, faces showing their alarm, before Mrs. Robbins declared she could no longer bare it, and in an attempt to continue on with her morning, went to wake Atticus up for breakfast.
At the next weekly gathering, it did not go unnoticed that Mrs. Robbins was not on attendance, and as the ladies of Abberforth Lane sat down together to gossip, it was unsurprising that the topic fell to her.
Yes, the last I saw of her was when she was out on her porch last week collecting a package. On a Sunday! What must she have gotten that was delivered then. Indeed it is interesting,” Mrs. Boyce commented, “she almost seemed surprised when she received that package, as if she was not expecting it.”
“I doubt she was, one doesn’t expect packages on a Sunday, but it makes me wonder what must be in it, I dare say she has been acting rather strange lately.” Mrs. Rosby said.
“Indeed! I saw her only two days ago at the market, how could I miss her! Her face seemed hollow and her eyes, my they certainly seemed wild. It looked very much as if she wished to avoid me. I wonder if her husband or son is proving to be trouble.”
“Mrs. Witherly how could you think such! You have meet both Mr. Robbins and dear Atticus at the last town ball, do not tell me you were not utterly charmed by them. They could not be to blame I assure you.” Mrs. Mallory declared.
“Well whatever the cause,” Mrs. Boyce said drawing the group’s attention back to her, “her behavior is unquestionably unfit.”
“With you I agree completely, and I have heard some of the strangest rumors about her of late. It makes me wonder if the Robbins family is not all what they seem.” The group was intrigued by Mrs. Elliot’s statement, and soon the topic was moved to theories of what the Robbins family could possibly be hiding.
“Do you think Mrs. Robbins could be having an affair?” Mrs. Boyce staged whispered to Mrs. Stiller who sat next to her listening to the debate attentively. Mrs. Stiller, happy to be included in the conversation, replied immediately,
“It sounds most likely, secret gifts being delivered to her on a Sunday and her wish to avoid Mrs. Witherly at the markets certainly proves it. What a shame for poor Mr. Robbins! I personally have never met him, but I have only heard good things about his person, and he surly does not deserve this fate.”
“Atticus as well! Imagine finding out your mother was not faithful!” One of the ladies exclaimed.
“Well I doubt they even know of her betrayal! I personally have never liked Mrs. Robins, this sounds just like something she would do.” Mrs. Boyce said with a determined air. The group sat in relative silence for a moment each person forming a new opinion of the Robbins family in their mind. It was unlikely that the Robbins family would ever be seen the same again. Suddenly, Mrs. Stiller’s face lit with joy, before she proclaimed,
“Have you heard of the newest addition to the Prowler family, I heard they were blessed with a healthy girl!” Hearing this, the ladies eagerly picked up the new topic, chattering on until the late afternoon when they returned to their houses to tell their husbands the recent news.