Heavy Breathing
Trip didn’t return her call until late afternoon. After admitting to herself that he was punishing her, Georgette gave up the waiting game and helped Heather with various tasks in the greenhouse. As soon as her hands were buried in soil, she was paged to the phone.

In a rare streak of defiance, she used the phone inside the greenhouse instead of running to the privacy of her office. “Hello, this is Georgette.”

“Hello, love monkey. What are you wearing?” The voice was rickety and barely spoke over a whisper.

“Martin! Silly goat. Up to your old tricks. Making pranks phone calls. I’m notifying your probation officer.” She laughed, relieved it wasn’t Trip. She was in no mood to argue.

“How’s my favorite flower child?” His normal voice in her ear was a comfort.

“Not bad. I’ve been meaning to call you all day. I want to thank you for suggesting my business to your friend Rod Hutchins. He and the famous Congressman Redden have enlisted my help with the downtown renovation project.” Sarcasm dripped in her voice when she mentioned Redden by name.

“Good for you, girl. Great news. Ran into him at the post office. Hadn’t seen him in ages. He mentioned the project and during the conversation I dropped your name.”

“We spent all morning pouring over the current plans. Without that horrible Redden man, thank goodness.”

“Don’t underestimate him. He’s a sly dog, as most politicians are, darling.”

“I won’t. Hopefully, he won’t be involved in my part of the mission.” Changing the subject to him, she asked, “How’s your day been?”

“Frustrating, which is the reason I’m calling. Want to grab a drink at 6? Maybe something to eat. I could use a dose of your sunshine.”

“Sure. Meet you at Britt’s.”

“Sounds like a winner. Don’t forget to wear something sexy, so we’ll get a discount on our tab. Remember he’s an ass man.”

“Martin, you’re incorrigible. But don’t go changing for me.” She laughed, as she hung up the phone, only to be paged again. Thinking it was Martin calling back, she whispered a sexy greeting. “Hello hot stuff, I’m ready for you.”

“Georgette? Who’s the lucky man? Marty?” Trip’s voice could have made winter cold.

“Hi Trip. I got an obscene phone call earlier.” That part was semi-true. “And I thought it was the guy calling back. I figured a dose of his own medicine might discourage him from calling again.” Trip’s jealousy of Martin made it necessary for her to tell him a white lie.

“Why wouldn’t you take my calls earlier? I rang twice.”

“I told you last night that I had a meeting this morning with the downtown renovation committee about working with them on the landscaping portion of the project.”

“Georgette, I called after my show, which is during the noon hour. Not in the morning.” His voice had a dubious tone, which sent her into an atypical burst of outrage.

“Trip, do you really think I would be up to mischief, knowing you were going to call during the course of it? If you don’t believe me, you can use your analytical talents and call Mr. Hutchins office to verify my statements. I don’t have the number handy, but give me a few minutes and I’ll call back with the information. On second thought, you’ve done plenty of investigative reporting, you look it up.” Georgette’s rare flair of temper surprised her into silence. Trip didn’t speak for a moment.

He whistled low. “Testy today, aren’t we? Is it because I made you leave this morning? You know the neighborhood. I don’t wear gossip well, Georgette.”

She let out a long tired sigh. “I’ve had a busy day and I’m tired. Your accusations aren’t helping.”

“I’m sorry. So you didn’t get to watch my show? It was a great one. Got a lot of positive viewer email afterwards.”

“That’s wonderful, Trip. I did miss the show, much to my sorrow.” She hated to say the next thing. “And I forgot to record it.” She waited for the bomb to explode.

His silence voiced his anger and she wasn’t surprised when he said, “No problem. I’ve got another call coming in. We’ll talk tomorrow.” With that, he hung up before she could apologize again or say goodbye.

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Nuts and Bones

Neon signs flashed all night and day at the “Stones and Bones Sports Bar and Grille”, best sports bar in town. It was the only place where you could sit in comfortable leather booths or on cozy couches and watch any sporting event that the patrons voted on unanimously. When a big event or competition was going on, you had to watch where you stepped because large stones from all over the world were scattered about. The owner Britt Sims was well traveled and to prove it, he has a collection of stones from wherever he roamed and written on them are the dates he visited and the exact location he found the stones; hence the “Stones” element of the name.

The “Bones” portion of the name was another story. Sometime in his youth, he became fascinated with the legend of Black Beard the Pirate. From that interest, sprang an obsession to learn about every famous and not so famous pirate in the history of the world. There was a rogue named Thaddeus T. Scoggins a.k.a. Bones Scroggins who terrorized the Atlantic long before Black Beard hit the waves. Britt had copies of every document, sketch and map that he found, hung in frames around the bar. There were a few patrons who have wondered if Bones wasn’t a myth invented by Britt Sims, who loved telling tales of the obscure pirate.

If Bones was a legendary tale of Britt’s, people didn’t mind. The place was popular for the after college and pre-middle-aged crowd. “Stones and Bones Sports Bar and Grille” was selected as the “Best Grille” in town, offering a variety of sandwiches and appetizers. His selection of import beers was the envy of other bars around.

If asked for advice, Britt Sims was quick to give it, and oft times the advice was unwanted. Because he was so jovial, it was difficult to get angry with him. His brawny physique and crooked nose resembled that of a heavy weight boxer, but dimples in his cheeks softened the image. It was unwanted advice that Georgette overhead when she walked up to the table Martin Schmidt sat at, patiently waiting for their weekly night at Stones and Bones.

“…and if you grew your eyebrows extra long, you could sweep them back over your bald head, Marty,” Britt’s laugh clipped some of the words. He pounded Martin on the arm, his back to Georgette. “Another thing you should do, man, is get Georgette to a beauty shop. That braid she wears around her head, reminds me of a snake. How can she think straight with it squeezing her brain?”

“I don’t know, Britt. Ask her. She’s standing behind you,” Martin said. He stood up and offered Georgette a seat, bemused at how humbled Britt had become, all humor gone.

“Well, you should get rid of that braid. Let your hair down, woman,” Britt said. The only reply he got from Georgette was a raised eyebrow, which spoke loud and sent Britt into a flutter. “Not that you aren’t a pretty lady. You are. And the braid…it’s…it’s…nice enough, but you’re too young to look like a grandmother, dressed in a frumpy skirt with a braid wrapped ...”

Martin interrupted, “Britt, we’ll take those menus now.”

Georgette waited until Britt went to fetch the menus before speaking. “Jeepers, Martin, what got him all wound up?”

“The same song and dance about how I should seriously think about making an honest woman of you. You missed the best part—he gave me advice on the perfect engagement ring.”

“Ha! A ring through my nose?” Georgette wrinkled her nose up and then burst into giggles.

“Precisely.” Martin grinned back and then changed the subject. “What are you having?”