Speak Softly
The next day, Georgette woke to the ringing of her telephone. At first she thought it was the alarm clock. She pressed the snooze button but still it rang on. Muffling the sound with a pillow, she groaned, “Will you stop ringing? My head kills.” Then she realized it was the phone. She answered it with “Speak softly.”
A dry feminine voice spoke. “I’m not surprised that you’ve got a hangover. You were hitting the Peach Schnapps pretty heavy.”
“Who is this?”
“It’s Jennifer Swann, Goddess-partner-in-crime. I almost forgot. Mother Moon says hello, star shine.”
“Mother moon? Mother moon…oh my God, I kissed Rod Hutchins.” As memory of her antics of the night before came back to Georgette in a flood, she sat up abruptly causing her head to spin. “Oh my head.”
Jennifer said, “You need coffee and some food. What’s your address?”
Georgette wasn’t listening. She was trying to recall the events of last night, mainly those after dinner. She remember drinking a lot of wine, watching Trip dance with that Theresa Champagne woman and then being outside with the woman in red—the one that had been in the bathroom with Dale Larkin. What was her name?
“Jennifer, right? Oh dear, I can’t remember your last name. I’m sorry,” said Georgette.
“Jennifer Swann. I’m surprised you remember any of the evening.”
“I’m having vivid flashbacks. I wonder if this is how it was in the 70’s after the LSD years.”
“According to the telephone directory this is your address? 1314 Willow drive.”
“Yes, that’s my address. Why?
Patiently Jennifer explained, “We’re going to have a light lunch. Once you get some food into our system, you’ll feel better. I’m treating you to lunch. Will I be looking for a house?”
“Gosh, thanks. Hmm, no house. An apartment. The Willow Street Apartments. I’m in Building B, apartment 3. You’ll see a green jeep in front of the entry way. Building B is on the left after you enter the gates.”
“I’ll find it. Shall I be there in 45 minutes?”
“Sounds perfect. I need a long hot shower. But first, some aspirin.”
The hot shower cleared Georgette’s mind. She remembered more of the evening and was angry at herself for letting her emotions over Trip run wildly amuck and cause her to do some things that were completely out of character for her. How could she face Rod Hutchins after kissing him so passionately? An immediate apology was the proper thing to do to set things write.
She found his business card in her handbag. It didn’t have a home phone number listed, so she called his office. Thinking she would get the answering service, she mentally rehearsed a message. But instead of a machine picking up the call, he answered it himself. “Rod Hutchins, how can I help you?”
Georgette’s prepared speech evaporated. “What are you doing at work on a Sunday? Don’t tell me you’re a workaholic?”
“Mother? Why you sound thirty years younger!”
She had been thrown off balance by his voice and attempted to regain her footing. “No Rod, it’s Georgette. Not your mother.”
“I’m perfectly aware of that. I didn’t peg you to be a nag, though. You sound like my mother.”
“Everyone needs at least one day to relax.” The call wasn’t going as planned and Georgette began to wish she hadn’t of dialed his number on impulse.
“I usually stay home and watch ESPN in my underwear on Sundays, but today I had an idea for a future project and came in to sketch it out before I lost it. So Miss Witt, what can I do for you today?”
She cleared her throat and rushed out the words. “I called to apologize for my behavior last night. I wasn’t myself.”
“You revealed your weakness. Peach Schnapps.”
Georgette should have known that he wouldn’t make this easy for her. “I don’t usually drink that stuff. It was out of character for me. I feel as if I took advantage of you and I’m sorry.”
Rod released a laugh that started at the tips of his toes, growing in volume until it sprang into the telephone receiver with such force that Georgette removed the phone from her ear. She said, “Er, I’ll leave you to your work. Have a nice Sunday.” She hung up. What a mistake that had been!
The phone rang again while she dressed. It was Martin. “Hello, Flower Child. How are you feeling today? Hangover?” He spoke softly as if he knew her head was killing her.
“Horrible. But I’ve been worse. Sorry if I caused you any trouble last night, Martin. My memory’s a bit fuzzy.”
“You didn’t. It’s an every day occurrence for me. Every woman I escort to one of Susan Ritter’s parties always gets drunk, bares her breasts and kisses other men.”
She gasped. He spoke cautiously and she wondered how far she had gone the night before. “I exposed myself? Oh I’ll never face another living soul ever again.”
Martin laughed, “Hold on, Flower Child. I’m teasing you about the bare breasts part. A man can hope, can’t he?”
I should run you over with my jeep, Martin.”
“You have to catch me first. Have you had lunch? You should eat something.”
“I’m having lunch in fifteen minutes with Jennifer Swann. I met her last night at the party. She called and invited me out.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. I get the impression, she’s a loner. You would be good for her.”
Georgette was puzzled. “Do you know her?”
“Not really. I know of her,” was all he offered. “Enjoy yourself. I’ll call later tonight.”
“I’ll be around. Bye.”
“And Georgette. I’m the one who owes you an apology.” With that ominous remark, he rang off.
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Zapped Again
Georgette was sitting on the curbing beside her jeep, braiding her hair when Jennifer arrived. She looked like a young girl in jeans with a rip in one knee and a black sweatshirt that read, “Hug Some Bunny Today!”
She climbed into Jennifer’s car. “I’m too casually dressed to ride in your expensive car. We could drive my jeep but you’re over dressed.” Jennifer wore a pink sweater and black wool slacks. Georgette glanced at Jennifer’s shoes and said, “Don’t your feet get tired of wearing heels? Mine are crying for them.”
Jennifer parried, “You should wear heels. They would lend you height. Then you could look people eye to eye and not eye to belly button. And that braid! It’s so outdated. If you cut your hair to a manageable length, you would save fifteen minutes of your daily grooming route.”
“My mother would roll over in her grave if I did.”
Jennifer paused for a traffic light. She stared straight ahead. Hearing that Georgette’s mother was deceased awakened the feeling of kinship she experienced the night before. “My mother’s dead, too. She died when I was seventeen from an aneurysm. It was sudden.”
“I can relate. Both my parents were killed in an auto crash eight years ago. They hit a pothole and lost control of the car. Both were killed instantly.”
“Any siblings?” asked Jennifer.
Georgette sighed, “I’m all alone now. My older brother died twenty-four years ago. Do you have any?”
Jennifer’s voice hardened a little. “A brother but we’re estranged. It’s a long story. And today isn’t the day for it.”
“Where are we going? I don’t think my stomach can handle a four star restaurant serving escargot.”
Jennifer laughed. “You would have to eat in the kitchen if we did go to one. Have you ever been to Zapped? It’s a coffee house on Reynolds Drive. They serve the best chicken salad I’ve ever eaten.”
“Never heard of it. We won’t be forced to endure hours of poetry read by tortured souls, will we?” Privately Georgette thought that she could recite plenty of torturous poems of lost love.
“If we do, you can rain down upon them the fury of the Moon Goddess.” Jennifer laughed at Georgette’s expression. “You could get plenty of recruits for the cult, if you did.”
“Don’t remind me. I’m still recovering from the humiliation.” Georgette rubbed her temples, wondering when the hangover would head off to other pastures.
Once they were seated inside Zapped, Jennifer humorously watched Georgette’s reaction to the place full of neon lights and tattooed women. She wondered if Georgette’s face was always so easy to read. First, she registered shock by dropping her jaw. Then awe replaced the shocked look, as tattooed Zoë swayed over to take their drink orders.
“Hello, Toots. Good to see you again. You brought a new friend along.”
“Yes, I’m back. This is Georgette.” To Georgette, she said, “And this is Zoë.”
Zoë smiled at Georgette, then turned to Jennifer and asked, “Will you have tea again today?”
She was pleased that Zoë remembered. “Yes and the chicken salad. Make that two chicken salads. Georgette, what do you want to drink?” asked Jennifer.
Zoë interrupted, “She’ll have regular coffee with lots of cream and sugar.”
Georgette’s eyes grew as large as the neon saucers on the wall. “How did you know I wanted coffee with cream and sugar?”
Zoë smiled. “I know many things, Flower Child.” She left to place their orders.
“Now I’m totally freaked out, Jennifer. Martin calls me that—Flower Child. Is this payback for pulling your hair out last night? Hire a freaky lady to drive me further over the edge?”
“She did that to me on my first visit. Knew exactly what I wanted to drink. Susan said Zoë is psychic. I’m starting to believe her.”
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Freud’s Slip
“Are you and Susan Ritter very good friends? She’s been a customer of mine for a few years.” Georgette wanted to know more about Jennifer, but mainly was curious of her take on Susan.
“We were until the admirable Congressman Redden forced a kiss on me last night.”
“He did? That man’s a snake. Come to think of it, we danced once. He had the wandering hand syndrome. I stepped on his feet a few times and he didn’t ask for a second dance.”
Jennifer laughed. “I didn’t get the chance to maim him. I followed you and Martin Schmidt to the car. He asked me to carry your handbag. Once I saw you off, I went back to the rock garden get my cigarette case. I saw your hair clips on the ground, so I retrieved them. My back was to the door and I didn’t hear him. When I turned around, he grabbed me. His lips felt like wax. It was awful. Susan walked in on the embrace. She assumed the worst—that I was trying to entice him into a sordid affair—and insisted I get off her property. I’m on her black list, Sister Moon.”
Georgette laughed at the nickname. Then she said in earnest empathy, “That’s so wrong. She could be jealous. Definitely blind to his womanizing habits. I’m always amazed at how some people are drawn to the glamour of a political title.”
“What gets me the most is that no one saw him kiss me except her and she brands me a harlot! Yet her husband was falling down drunk before dinner was even served. He caused quite a ruckus in the entry way in front of a large number of dinner guests and she ignores it.”
“Poor Elijah. He hates being thrust into the lime light. She banished him to the lower class dining room along with Martin and me. I don’t think he minded.” Georgette shot Jennifer a furtive glance and said, “Martin and I were trying to sober him up. Martin sent me to that bathroom for towels and that’s why I barged in on you and Dale. He told me Chip wasn’t there, so I assumed the bathroom was empty. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“Actually, you timed it perfectly. A moment sooner and I would be too humiliated to face you.”
The drinks arrived. Zoë beamed at Georgette. “You should come to our monthly Goddess awareness meetings. Remind me to give you my phone number.” She smiled at both ladies and said, “Your food will be ready shortly.”
They stared at Zoë’s retreating back. Jennifer turned to Georgette and said, “That woman’s very uncanny. I believe she knows all our secrets.”
The chicken salads arrived moments later. The women were silent as they ate. At first Georgette didn’t think she would be able to eat much, but after the first few tentative forkfuls, her stomach settled and she ate with a ravenous appeal that won a smile from Zoë, when she stopped to check on them. “Slow down, Flower Child. The chicken’s not going to get away.”
As they ate, Georgette had a flashback of the night before. She tortured herself over it, as she finished her meal. When Zoë came to refill their cups, she patted Georgette on the arm. “Don’t beat yourself up, honey. There are consequences that come with unrequited love. Things would be different now if he hadn’t of used sheer willpower to leave you last night. Above all else, there is friendship. Both of you know that. Ladies need anything else? Some dessert?”
The women declined and Zoë left. Jennifer waited for an explanation from Georgette, but she sat staring in shock at Zoë’s retreating figured. “What did she mean by that?” asked Jennifer.
“Her mind reading abilities are unnerving.” Georgette sighed. “Much of last night is still foggy. While we were eating, I thought of Martin’s phone call. He called before you arrived. At first he sounded strained, as if testing the waters. He made a few jokes and we laughed like normal. But at the end of the conversation he told me he owed me an apology. I’ve just remembered why he would say that…I made a pass at him last night after he got me home. After seeing Trip with that woman, I didn’t want to be alone. Martin was so kind and tender with me. He’s always there for me. I thought, ‘Why not?’ So I kissed him and asked him to spend the night. We began kissing and—this is the worse part—I called him Rod by mistake. He pulled away and coldly told me to get some sleep. I feel so bad, Jennifer. He’s been in love with me for three years. Trip used to tease me about Martin, saying he would sweep me away if I gave him a sign.”
Jennifer said, “Sometimes we do crazy things during an alcohol haze. I’m sure he realizes you didn’t mean any harm.”
“It breaks my heart to think I hurt him. He’s my best friend. Susan introduced us at one of her parties and pushed us together every time she got the chance. I knew he was interested immediately. I told him about Trip and Martin said he preferred having me as a friend, than nothing at all.”
“I’m finding it amazing that you’ve overlooked one aspect of incident with Martin—you said Rod’s name instead of his. That’s a Freudian slip if I ever heard of one,” said Jennifer.
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Chapter 5
The View
One of the hardest things Georgette had ever done in her life was keeping her appointment with Rod to view pre-renovated downtown. She hadn’t been there in a very long time because it was in a part of town she rarely went to. One aspect that kept her away was the high volume of criminal acts. The city had almost abandoned the maintenance of the park by the lake and alleys of the stores in favor of developing businesses on lands closer to the interstate, hoping to lure tourism to the shops, restaurants and motels.
Sadly, the downtown portion of the city had fallen into a decrepit state with building abandoned and boarded up with unsightly plywood panels. The park was overgrown with weeds and the litter of many nights of partying by persons unknown. The alleys and parking lots had little or no light, to discourage the unnatural shadows of drug addicts and other unfavorable people. The once glorious downtown was now a den of debauchery.
Georgette arrived late due to procrastination and a traffic jam. Rod was talking to a few men who were removing wood that had been nailed across a building that was beside the parking lot they had agreed to meet at. He waved her over to them once she had parked her jeep. She tried to look like her normal self with her braid wrapped around her head. Everything she wore was made of denim except her under garments, shoes, socks and the scarf she had woven around her neck to keep the chill off it. She hoped that any resemblance of the wild woman who had kissed him as if he were her boy toy would be lost in the neutrality of denim.
Rod greeted her with his usual warmth. She detected no smirking or taunting in his eyes. She let out a long silence sigh of relief and returned his greeting. He said goodbye to the men and took Georgette by the elbow, steering her as they walked around the area. He discussed the plans that the committee had finally agreed upon, pointing out the areas that would need Georgette’s landscaping expertise. She made notes on a small pad. Before the really hard freezes came and froze up the ground, she would have to come back and take soil samples. That would be a great project for her and Heather when they needed a break from the holiday rush. Thanksgiving was days away and once it arrived; the garden center and nursery would be swamped with shoppers.
She could envision the images Rod painted as he described the nature trails that were going to be developed around the lake, the gazebos in the park and the new fountain that was going in the heart of downtown. New historic signs were commissioned to be printed and also, a monument honoring veterans of all the wars that the US had ever been a part of was going to be placed close to the fountain.
When he was finished with his renovation tour, Rod took Georgette to see some of the renovations of the old buildings. The city wanted to lure specialty shops to downtown. The theory was that once the whole area was renovated, then business owners would want a part of it. She was impressed until she glanced down one of the streets and saw in the distance, the new townhouses that were being built. There was a rumor that the cheapest was estimated to cost half a million dollars. Suddenly it was clear why the renovation project was the town’s priority. The rich couldn’t bear the thought of glancing out their window and seeing a shamble of rotting old wood—the decaying corpse of a once lively quarter. Downtown was their eye sore and they were going to spend a lot of money to heal it.
Once the tour of the buildings was complete, Rod took Georgette over to the park to show her where the fountain, monument and other historic signs were to be placed. He was especially proud of the designs for the Veterans’ Monument.
They were standing by a picnic area. Rod was giving her a detailed description of the fountain, when a gruff voice asked, “Got a quarter, Miss?”
A vagrant had appeared out of the thicket close to where they were standing. Georgette couldn’t determine his age. She knew time could add years to a face. This man’s face carried wrinkles of time. He had a thick crop of salt and pepper hair, which was tangled and had twigs in it. His face sported a full beard, which was sparse in places. When her eyes met his, she felt as if he looked into her soul and left graffiti on the walls. She felt a touch of pity for him, because it was freezing and all he wore was a thin jacket.
Rod pulled Georgette away from the man, as if he were a wild beast ready to rip her throat. “Mister, you’ve been told not to loiter around here,” said Rod.
“Sonny, where should I go? To the Hilton? Or maybe over to my buddy, The Mayor’s house?” The man ended his questions with a long phlegm-filled cough, which broke Georgette’s heart.
She said, “No sir, I don’t have a quarter but I do have this.” Stepping forward, she removed her scarf and put it around his neck. Her regret of the moment was that she had left her gloves in the jeep. “It’s cold, sir. You shouldn’t be out in this weather with that cough.”
“Thank you, Miss. You’re an angel. God bless you.” The man’s eyes sparkled with tears of gratitude. Georgette wanted to hug him, but she wasn’t sure about vagrant etiquette. Rod cleared his throat and the man said, “I’m moving on.” Then he disappeared into the shrubbery.
Full of impatience and contempt, Rod took Georgette firmly by the arm and marched her in the opposite direction. Anger shook his voice. “Why did you do that? You’re only encouraging him. He’ll probably sell your scarf for a 30 ounce bottle of beer.”
Georgette retorted, “Rod, not everyone is as fortunate as you and I are. One of the problems of the world is the way we turn a blind eye on the poor and homeless. Do you really think he would be out in on a cold day like this, wearing only a thin coat? He didn’t have on socks either. Just shoes with holes.”
Rod stared at her for a moment, and then said, “You can’t help a person who refuses to accept aid. There are places that offer help and he knows that.” Georgette kept trying to interrupt him, but he firmly shut her down by saying, “And this conversation is going to go no where. Let’s change the subject. Like…why weren’t you seated with the committee members at Susan Ritter’s party?”
“Oh, I don’t know. She asked that Martin and I dine with Elijah in the study with some of the other guests. He wasn’t himself and she felt her duties belonged elsewhere.”
Rod said dryly, “I had to endure a rather boring dinner, watching Redden flirt with the hostess. Next time, I’ll make sure you’re seated at the proper table. Even if I have to seat you myself.”
“Where is Redden? Wasn’t he supposed to be here?” Georgette was privately happy that he wasn’t around. If she were the last woman on earth, and it was up to her to restock the world with humans, and she had to choose which man to mate with—the homeless man or Redden, the homeless man would win.
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Threatening Skies
Jennifer was irate over the handling of the closing of her townhouse. She called Dale’s office at least twenty times over a three day period. No one knew what was going on and he refused to return her calls. According to her attorney, Dale’s office kept coming up with excuses, as to why they were late with the finalizing of the sale.
She decided to take matters into her own hands. When Celeste was out for lunch, Jennifer Xeroxed copies of her cell phone statement from the last 2 or so months and emailed them to Dale with a demand. “If this deal isn’t closed in 2 days and I’m not in my new townhouse by January 1, I’m sending your wife copies of the sexy email that you’ve sent to me daily. And to reinforce them, I’ll send copies of my cell phone statement. Check out October 27. You called me 23 times. How sweet! You might be able to explain the day time calls but what about the ones you made at 1 am from the bathroom, where you masturbated while I listened? Tsk, those will be tricky.”
Ten minutes after sending the email, Jennifer’s attorney called with the news that Dale Larkin was sending over the bill of sales and other legal papers for her to sign. She cleared her afternoon, so she could drop by his office and sign them, once they’ve perused all the fine details. Jennifer had a bargaining tool and she planned to gain as much from it as she possibly could within reason.
Celeste returned to her desk from lunch, humming under her breath. She looked happy about something, but Jennifer didn’t bother to find out. It was probably over the flavor-of-the-week. She told Celeste that she was going to be gone the rest of the day and gave her instructions on what she wanted her to do.
When Jennifer cleared the bank building, she reached inside her handbag for her cell phone. She knew Georgette would find much humor in her email to Dale. One of Georgette’s favorite topics of conversation was about methods of revenge on Trip and Dale. Before she could place the call, Martin Schmidt appeared out of the blue beside her.
“Hello Jennifer? How are you today?” His head was as brilliant as a small sun.
“I’m very well, thank you. How are you?” She showered him with one of her rare smiles, the ones that look like sunlight peeping from behind clouds and for a moment, he was speechless.
“I was about to call Georgette. She speaks highly of you, by the way. And the funny stories she tells. I think some are embellished, especially the one where the circus elephant went wild and chased both of you around the parking lot. Not one vehicle was damaged.” Jennifer laughed.
“Oh I know that one. We were at the circus but it wasn’t an elephant that escaped. It was a monkey and he terrorized an old man with a bushy moustache, before the trainers got him under control. We got back a few years. She’s a good person. But watch out. She’s a bit mischievous at times. If she says, ‘Hey I’ve got the greatest idea…’ I suggest you run for the hills.”
She laughed, “I’ve figured that out.” Her smile faltered when she noticed the indecision on his face, as he struggled inwardly over something unpleasant. “What brings you here today? If you’re here to see me, I am on my way out.”
“Your brother, Jennifer. He wants a meeting. To reconcile. He asked that I arrange it. He said he would meet you on your terms. No matter what they were.”
She snapped the phone shut and said as tersely as possible, “No, I won’t meet him. I told you a few weeks ago that I will not be drawn back into the family. To me, he’s dead. End of story.”
To her receding back, he said, “Ask Georgette about her brother. He’s dead too you know. But first make sure she’s had a little wine. A rainy night would be perfect. And also turn out the lights. But be prepared to hold her hand as she sobs herself to sleep.”
When he spoke, she stopped but didn’t turn around. After he finished speaking, she walked away as briskly as she could. Jennifer hated a manipulative lawyer.
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Caveman Mentality
“To answer your question, Redden’s somewhere bugging women, though I did leave a message for him regarding the change in our plans,” said Rod. They were by Georgette’s jeep. She had the keys in her hand ready to say goodbye and get back to work. But his comment sent a wave of indignation over her.
She verbalized her indignation, “He’s a slimy snake. I’m shocked at what he gets by with. I danced with him at the party and his hands kept sliding down. He blamed it on the slippery fabric of my dress, but we both know that wasn’t the real reason.”
“You stopped him, didn’t you?” He almost roared the question at her.
“Yes, by promptly stepping on his feet a few times. My feet are still sore but I’m thankful I wore those stiletto heel shoes.”
Rod laughed. “I am, too. That man needs to learn to harness his caveman instincts, like the rest of us civilized manly men. Women today don’t like the idea of a man dragging them into a cave by their hair.”
Georgette teased him. “Yours are harnessed?”
“Yes. I’ve got them tightly reined in. But Miss Witt, your Amazon side isn’t. Not that I’m complaining.” He laughed.
She didn’t. A flush of red covered her face. She mumbled a goodbye and jumped into her jeep, grinding gears as she tried to escape his laugh. Glancing back at him in her rear-view mirror, she saw that he was bent over laughing so hard that he held his sides. Georgette waited a few blocks before she allowed herself the privilege of laughter.
When she arrived back at Buckets of Daisies, she went into the show room to check on the workers. She was alarmed to hear that Redden was milling around somewhere in the building. According to one of the service desk girls, he told her that he was supposed to meet her and Rod. Georgette went in search of him. She spent thirty minutes walking over the warehouse and showrooms. When she was in a hurry, it seems as if the building grew extra rooms. He wasn’t found in any of the public nurseries.
Georgette was about to give up the search when it struck her that he might be in one of the off limit greenhouses—the ones where she germinated seeds and carefully nurtured saplings until they were large enough to sell. To her displeasure, he was in the A-framed greenhouse, talking to Heather who had the expression of a mouse cornered by a cat.
She hailed him. “Mr. Redden, I heard you were looking for me.”
He reluctantly allowed Heather to escape. She rushed by, mumbling something about being late for her break. Georgette rounded on Redden. “Sir, no one’s allowed in the greenhouses, except for personnel.” She pointed to a sign posted on the door.
“I didn’t notice the sign. Your employee, Heather is a very sweet girl. You’re lucky to have her working for you. I’m jealous. These days it is very difficult to find quality employees.”
Georgette’s radar went off, but she managed to remain polite. “Yes, she’s a good worker. I don’t know what I would do without her. In fact, she’s like a daughter to me. I would protect her with my life if need be.” She hoped he read between the lines and realized Heather was off limits.
If he got Georgette’s veiled warning, it didn’t register on his features or in his tone. “Where’s Hutchins? He’s late for our downtown tour.”
“We’ve already had it. Rod told me he left word with your secretary that the time was changed to the morning. Didn’t you get it?’ asked Georgette.
He frowned. “No. I’ll have a word with her when I get back to my office.” His usual painted smile returned when he said, “You were a lovely vision at Susan and Elijah Ritter’s party. I could have danced with you all night long.”
“Your feet would be ruined. I’m a terrible dancer, don’t you remember?’
He forged a laugh. “Yes, now that I think about it, I do remember. The Ritters are having another party in December. I’ll remind Susan that you are on the committee and deserve a prime spot at the head table. I didn’t realize you were left out until Rod mentioned it to me.” He clasped her hand within his and said, “I guarantee a spot beside me at the next one.” Then he kissed it.
“Oh, don’t go to a lot of trouble over me. The table can only seat so many. Well, Mr. Redden I must get back to work. Rod should be in his office shortly. You can contact him there if you need to.” She forced herself to gently remove her hand from his clammy ones, though she wanted to snatch it away.
After he left, she sought out Heather in the employee lounge. The poor girl looked wan. “Heather, are you all right?” asked Georgette.
“I don’t mean any disrespect, Miss Witt, but that man is sinister. He gives off bad vibes.”
“He didn’t act inappropriately did he? You can be honest. I’ll believe anything you say.” Georgette’s bile rose at the thought of Redden trying to force himself on Heather.
“He asked weird questions, like did I have a lot of male friends and was I a social butterfly? Did I like to party and if I was in a sorority. I wasn’t sure what I should tell him. Then you arrived and I ran for it. I wonder why he asked those questions.”
“Probably trying to figure out if you would have vengeful males chasing his ass down if he made a pass at you. Listen, if he ever shows up in the greenhouses, you leave immediately. Make up whatever excuse you need to.”
“Is he a pervert?” asked Heather. “Or just a dirty old man?”
“He’s a dirty old man, Heather. And to some people, they’re the same.
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Stones And Gin
Jennifer hoped she wasn’t overdressed for the sports bar. Georgette had rung her earlier and asked her to meet her there for dinner. On the drive over, Jennifer wondered what kind of man would name a bar “Stones and Bones.” When she walked into the bar, she saw why. There were altars of stones at every turn.
A small crowd gathered at the bar. There were shouts of “Kick his ass, Georgette.” Jennifer smiled. Upon first impression, Georgette emitted a shy fragile daisy essence, but once you got to know her, you realized she was anything but fragile, except where Trip Trevor was concerned. Hopefully time would change that.
Jennifer pushed her way through the crowd and was amused to find Georgette thumb wrestling with the brawny bartender, who looked like he could break her arm off if he so much as leaned forward a bit. After a brief struggle, he let Georgette win. The crowd went wild. He yelled, “No fair. Your hair’s made of spinach. That’s why I can’t win.”
Georgette laughed, “Britt, don’t bull me. You’ve got pirates living in your dimples, if you really wanted to win, you would have them kick my butt.” She noticed Jennifer and her amused smile. “Britt, meet Jennifer Swann. She’s my new friend. Jennifer, this is Britt Sims, the owner of Stones and Bones.”
He shook Jennifer’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. A friend of Georgette’s is a friend of mine too. What can I get you? Tonight your drinks are on me.”
“Surprise me with something light and fruity.”
Georgette placed her hand on Jennifer’s arm and said, “Look out Jennifer. He’s a savvy buccaneer type and will sail off into the moonlight with you, if you aren’t careful.”
Britt’s response was a hearty “Argh.” Then he went off to create a perfect light and fruity drink for Jennifer.
The ladies moved to the corner of the bar that faced the entry, this way they could see who arrived. They discussed their day as Britt pried them with his new house drink he named “Gin-nifer.” Both women asked him to go light on the gin, when he made their drinks. Neither needed a hangover the next day.
When the crowd grew larger, Britt became to busy to flirt with Jennifer, which gave the girls an opportunity to talk privately.
“I saw your friend Martin this afternoon, as I was leaving the bank. We chatted for a moment,” said Jennifer.
“I haven’t seen him since the party. We’ve talked on the phone. I just realized we haven’t had our regular weeknight dinner date I talked to him before I left the office. Funny he didn’t mention you, when I called to invite him along.”
“Is he joining us?”
“No, he said he had other plans.”
“It’s for the best. We ended our conversation on a sour note. He represents my brother, who is trying to reconcile our sibling rivalry. I really don’t understand why he’s so interested in reconciliation. So much time has passed on and he’s bought out my share of the inheritance.”
“If it’s none of my business, say so, but I have to ask…why are you estranged from your family?”
“After mother died, I married a man that my father despised. He disowned me. My brother turned his back on me, because my father insisted he do so. I was young and foolish. When the marriage fell apart, all my father could say was ‘I told you so’ and turn his back on me. He’s dead now and with his death my brother grew backbone. But it’s too late.”
“He may want to offer an apology.”
“It’s too late, Georgette. Too much time has gone by. The scars from my wounds run deep,” said Jennifer.
Georgette sat in silence. In the silence there was sorrow, bitterness and a tad of regret. “I’m sorry, Jennifer. Families deal with stress the best way they know how. Some make life seem so easy and others make it difficult, especially for the ones they love. I would give anything to talk to my brother just once.”
“Martin said I should get you to tell me about your brother. I know he said it to manipulate me into talking with my brother. Lawyers are like that,” said Jennifer.
“No. If he told you to ask me about my brother’s misfortune, then he has good reason. Martin knows the whole story. He could have told you himself and save me from having to relive it.” Georgette couldn’t tell her tonight. She needed to prepare herself first. “To quote you, ‘it’s a long story. And today isn’t the day for it.’”
Jennifer nudged Georgette in the side. Susan Ritter and Theresa Champagne had just entered the bar. They were greeted by various people, most exclaiming to Theresa that her show was the best on the airwaves.
“Susan has a new best friend,” said Jennifer. “Should I be jealous?”
“Only if you fantasize about a pink Cadillac.”
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Battle One
Susan and Theresa settled into a booth close to the ladies room. They weren’t alone for long, mainly because Theresa was a semi-celebrity. Jennifer and Georgette watched their antics for a while, until they grew bored. Susan was in competition with Theresa over the attention of anyone who wandered over to their booth.
One of Jennifer’s colleagues from the bank stopped by to say hello and they ended up in a long discussion over the loan department of the bank. Georgette listened politely at first but she grew bored with that conversation quickly.
She excused herself and sought the ladies room. When she walked past the booth where Susan and Theresa sat entertaining, she noticed that Theresa stared at her and then whispered something into Susan’s ear, causing her to look at Georgette, who beat a hasty retreat to the restroom.
She was washing her hands and checking her appearance in the mirror, when the door opened and in walked Theresa Champagne. She smiled at Georgette. “You’re the person I’ve been dying to talk to alone.” She didn’t wait for Georgette to reply. “I think the way you are so devoted to Trip is inspiring. I wish I had someone who wouldn’t mind being a virtual slave.”
Georgette didn’t like the way the conversation was heading or the familiar way Theresa talked to her, as if she was there during the years Georgette devoted herself to Trip. It occurred to her that Trip must have confided to Theresa, about her. All the years of drilling into Georgette’s skull that he valued privacy above air were null now that he had told Theresa—a hungry talk show host, looking for her next story—about their past relationship.
She managed to fake a smile as big as Theresa’s fake boobs. “Trip? You are talking about Walter Gordon Stubbs, also known as Trip Trevor, aren’t you?”
“Walter Gordon Stubbs!! That’s his real name?” Theresa laughed. “I would change my name too if it were as bad as that?”
“You already have. I don’t believe for one moment that Theresa Champagne is your real name.” Georgette had nothing to lose and she didn’t worry about whatever damage Theresa Champagne might try to impose upon her, Georgette had dealt with sharper and hungrier cutthroats. She knew the best way to deal with one like Ms. Champagne was to grab her by the throat and shake her to death.
Georgette said, “I don’t know what Trip told you about me. Since you know that I was his virtual slave that must mean he broke his vow of silence regarding us. Since he’s done that, well, I’m at liberty to retaliate. You see Ms Champagne I’ve been with Trip Trevor’s secret lover for eight years. I know everything there is to know about the man—all the dirty little secrets he keeps locked up in his mental cabinet. I know his fears and his weird little habits. There isn’t anything I don’t know about that man. If you had of come to me with a little more humility and a little less arrogance, I might have shared them with you. But you didn’t. You chose to swipe at me without listening to my side. Is that great journalism? Do you go blind on your radio show, refusing to see all sides of an issue?”
Georgette didn’t allow her an answer, she continued, “Let me give you a warning, Ms. Champagne. Trip’s ego is very large and needs constant stroking. In the long run, he’ll ask you to choose between your career and him. If I were you, I would start weighing them. Maybe even make a pros and cons list. One last thing…Trip’s a very private person. If he hears his name connected to mine via your show or something you told someone, namely Susan Ritter, then it will be over for you and him. He will sever the ties quicker than you can say ‘Pink Cadillac.’” Georgette turned and walked away, before Theresa could regain her composure.
When she returned to the bar, Jennifer asked, “What just happened? You look like you’re going to call down the Wrath of the Goddess at any second now.”
“Theresa Champagne ambushed me in the restroom. She knows something abut me and Trip. I’m not sure what she knows, maybe just enough to whet her appetite. Regardless of what she knows, she went about it the wrong way if she was trying to get more information out of me. That woman is infuriating. Trip has his hands full.”
The next day, Georgette woke to the ringing of her telephone. At first she thought it was the alarm clock. She pressed the snooze button but still it rang on. Muffling the sound with a pillow, she groaned, “Will you stop ringing? My head kills.” Then she realized it was the phone. She answered it with “Speak softly.”
A dry feminine voice spoke. “I’m not surprised that you’ve got a hangover. You were hitting the Peach Schnapps pretty heavy.”
“Who is this?”
“It’s Jennifer Swann, Goddess-partner-in-crime. I almost forgot. Mother Moon says hello, star shine.”
“Mother moon? Mother moon…oh my God, I kissed Rod Hutchins.” As memory of her antics of the night before came back to Georgette in a flood, she sat up abruptly causing her head to spin. “Oh my head.”
Jennifer said, “You need coffee and some food. What’s your address?”
Georgette wasn’t listening. She was trying to recall the events of last night, mainly those after dinner. She remember drinking a lot of wine, watching Trip dance with that Theresa Champagne woman and then being outside with the woman in red—the one that had been in the bathroom with Dale Larkin. What was her name?
“Jennifer, right? Oh dear, I can’t remember your last name. I’m sorry,” said Georgette.
“Jennifer Swann. I’m surprised you remember any of the evening.”
“I’m having vivid flashbacks. I wonder if this is how it was in the 70’s after the LSD years.”
“According to the telephone directory this is your address? 1314 Willow drive.”
“Yes, that’s my address. Why?
Patiently Jennifer explained, “We’re going to have a light lunch. Once you get some food into our system, you’ll feel better. I’m treating you to lunch. Will I be looking for a house?”
“Gosh, thanks. Hmm, no house. An apartment. The Willow Street Apartments. I’m in Building B, apartment 3. You’ll see a green jeep in front of the entry way. Building B is on the left after you enter the gates.”
“I’ll find it. Shall I be there in 45 minutes?”
“Sounds perfect. I need a long hot shower. But first, some aspirin.”
The hot shower cleared Georgette’s mind. She remembered more of the evening and was angry at herself for letting her emotions over Trip run wildly amuck and cause her to do some things that were completely out of character for her. How could she face Rod Hutchins after kissing him so passionately? An immediate apology was the proper thing to do to set things write.
She found his business card in her handbag. It didn’t have a home phone number listed, so she called his office. Thinking she would get the answering service, she mentally rehearsed a message. But instead of a machine picking up the call, he answered it himself. “Rod Hutchins, how can I help you?”
Georgette’s prepared speech evaporated. “What are you doing at work on a Sunday? Don’t tell me you’re a workaholic?”
“Mother? Why you sound thirty years younger!”
She had been thrown off balance by his voice and attempted to regain her footing. “No Rod, it’s Georgette. Not your mother.”
“I’m perfectly aware of that. I didn’t peg you to be a nag, though. You sound like my mother.”
“Everyone needs at least one day to relax.” The call wasn’t going as planned and Georgette began to wish she hadn’t of dialed his number on impulse.
“I usually stay home and watch ESPN in my underwear on Sundays, but today I had an idea for a future project and came in to sketch it out before I lost it. So Miss Witt, what can I do for you today?”
She cleared her throat and rushed out the words. “I called to apologize for my behavior last night. I wasn’t myself.”
“You revealed your weakness. Peach Schnapps.”
Georgette should have known that he wouldn’t make this easy for her. “I don’t usually drink that stuff. It was out of character for me. I feel as if I took advantage of you and I’m sorry.”
Rod released a laugh that started at the tips of his toes, growing in volume until it sprang into the telephone receiver with such force that Georgette removed the phone from her ear. She said, “Er, I’ll leave you to your work. Have a nice Sunday.” She hung up. What a mistake that had been!
The phone rang again while she dressed. It was Martin. “Hello, Flower Child. How are you feeling today? Hangover?” He spoke softly as if he knew her head was killing her.
“Horrible. But I’ve been worse. Sorry if I caused you any trouble last night, Martin. My memory’s a bit fuzzy.”
“You didn’t. It’s an every day occurrence for me. Every woman I escort to one of Susan Ritter’s parties always gets drunk, bares her breasts and kisses other men.”
She gasped. He spoke cautiously and she wondered how far she had gone the night before. “I exposed myself? Oh I’ll never face another living soul ever again.”
Martin laughed, “Hold on, Flower Child. I’m teasing you about the bare breasts part. A man can hope, can’t he?”
I should run you over with my jeep, Martin.”
“You have to catch me first. Have you had lunch? You should eat something.”
“I’m having lunch in fifteen minutes with Jennifer Swann. I met her last night at the party. She called and invited me out.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. I get the impression, she’s a loner. You would be good for her.”
Georgette was puzzled. “Do you know her?”
“Not really. I know of her,” was all he offered. “Enjoy yourself. I’ll call later tonight.”
“I’ll be around. Bye.”
“And Georgette. I’m the one who owes you an apology.” With that ominous remark, he rang off.
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Zapped Again
Georgette was sitting on the curbing beside her jeep, braiding her hair when Jennifer arrived. She looked like a young girl in jeans with a rip in one knee and a black sweatshirt that read, “Hug Some Bunny Today!”
She climbed into Jennifer’s car. “I’m too casually dressed to ride in your expensive car. We could drive my jeep but you’re over dressed.” Jennifer wore a pink sweater and black wool slacks. Georgette glanced at Jennifer’s shoes and said, “Don’t your feet get tired of wearing heels? Mine are crying for them.”
Jennifer parried, “You should wear heels. They would lend you height. Then you could look people eye to eye and not eye to belly button. And that braid! It’s so outdated. If you cut your hair to a manageable length, you would save fifteen minutes of your daily grooming route.”
“My mother would roll over in her grave if I did.”
Jennifer paused for a traffic light. She stared straight ahead. Hearing that Georgette’s mother was deceased awakened the feeling of kinship she experienced the night before. “My mother’s dead, too. She died when I was seventeen from an aneurysm. It was sudden.”
“I can relate. Both my parents were killed in an auto crash eight years ago. They hit a pothole and lost control of the car. Both were killed instantly.”
“Any siblings?” asked Jennifer.
Georgette sighed, “I’m all alone now. My older brother died twenty-four years ago. Do you have any?”
Jennifer’s voice hardened a little. “A brother but we’re estranged. It’s a long story. And today isn’t the day for it.”
“Where are we going? I don’t think my stomach can handle a four star restaurant serving escargot.”
Jennifer laughed. “You would have to eat in the kitchen if we did go to one. Have you ever been to Zapped? It’s a coffee house on Reynolds Drive. They serve the best chicken salad I’ve ever eaten.”
“Never heard of it. We won’t be forced to endure hours of poetry read by tortured souls, will we?” Privately Georgette thought that she could recite plenty of torturous poems of lost love.
“If we do, you can rain down upon them the fury of the Moon Goddess.” Jennifer laughed at Georgette’s expression. “You could get plenty of recruits for the cult, if you did.”
“Don’t remind me. I’m still recovering from the humiliation.” Georgette rubbed her temples, wondering when the hangover would head off to other pastures.
Once they were seated inside Zapped, Jennifer humorously watched Georgette’s reaction to the place full of neon lights and tattooed women. She wondered if Georgette’s face was always so easy to read. First, she registered shock by dropping her jaw. Then awe replaced the shocked look, as tattooed Zoë swayed over to take their drink orders.
“Hello, Toots. Good to see you again. You brought a new friend along.”
“Yes, I’m back. This is Georgette.” To Georgette, she said, “And this is Zoë.”
Zoë smiled at Georgette, then turned to Jennifer and asked, “Will you have tea again today?”
She was pleased that Zoë remembered. “Yes and the chicken salad. Make that two chicken salads. Georgette, what do you want to drink?” asked Jennifer.
Zoë interrupted, “She’ll have regular coffee with lots of cream and sugar.”
Georgette’s eyes grew as large as the neon saucers on the wall. “How did you know I wanted coffee with cream and sugar?”
Zoë smiled. “I know many things, Flower Child.” She left to place their orders.
“Now I’m totally freaked out, Jennifer. Martin calls me that—Flower Child. Is this payback for pulling your hair out last night? Hire a freaky lady to drive me further over the edge?”
“She did that to me on my first visit. Knew exactly what I wanted to drink. Susan said Zoë is psychic. I’m starting to believe her.”
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Freud’s Slip
“Are you and Susan Ritter very good friends? She’s been a customer of mine for a few years.” Georgette wanted to know more about Jennifer, but mainly was curious of her take on Susan.
“We were until the admirable Congressman Redden forced a kiss on me last night.”
“He did? That man’s a snake. Come to think of it, we danced once. He had the wandering hand syndrome. I stepped on his feet a few times and he didn’t ask for a second dance.”
Jennifer laughed. “I didn’t get the chance to maim him. I followed you and Martin Schmidt to the car. He asked me to carry your handbag. Once I saw you off, I went back to the rock garden get my cigarette case. I saw your hair clips on the ground, so I retrieved them. My back was to the door and I didn’t hear him. When I turned around, he grabbed me. His lips felt like wax. It was awful. Susan walked in on the embrace. She assumed the worst—that I was trying to entice him into a sordid affair—and insisted I get off her property. I’m on her black list, Sister Moon.”
Georgette laughed at the nickname. Then she said in earnest empathy, “That’s so wrong. She could be jealous. Definitely blind to his womanizing habits. I’m always amazed at how some people are drawn to the glamour of a political title.”
“What gets me the most is that no one saw him kiss me except her and she brands me a harlot! Yet her husband was falling down drunk before dinner was even served. He caused quite a ruckus in the entry way in front of a large number of dinner guests and she ignores it.”
“Poor Elijah. He hates being thrust into the lime light. She banished him to the lower class dining room along with Martin and me. I don’t think he minded.” Georgette shot Jennifer a furtive glance and said, “Martin and I were trying to sober him up. Martin sent me to that bathroom for towels and that’s why I barged in on you and Dale. He told me Chip wasn’t there, so I assumed the bathroom was empty. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“Actually, you timed it perfectly. A moment sooner and I would be too humiliated to face you.”
The drinks arrived. Zoë beamed at Georgette. “You should come to our monthly Goddess awareness meetings. Remind me to give you my phone number.” She smiled at both ladies and said, “Your food will be ready shortly.”
They stared at Zoë’s retreating back. Jennifer turned to Georgette and said, “That woman’s very uncanny. I believe she knows all our secrets.”
The chicken salads arrived moments later. The women were silent as they ate. At first Georgette didn’t think she would be able to eat much, but after the first few tentative forkfuls, her stomach settled and she ate with a ravenous appeal that won a smile from Zoë, when she stopped to check on them. “Slow down, Flower Child. The chicken’s not going to get away.”
As they ate, Georgette had a flashback of the night before. She tortured herself over it, as she finished her meal. When Zoë came to refill their cups, she patted Georgette on the arm. “Don’t beat yourself up, honey. There are consequences that come with unrequited love. Things would be different now if he hadn’t of used sheer willpower to leave you last night. Above all else, there is friendship. Both of you know that. Ladies need anything else? Some dessert?”
The women declined and Zoë left. Jennifer waited for an explanation from Georgette, but she sat staring in shock at Zoë’s retreating figured. “What did she mean by that?” asked Jennifer.
“Her mind reading abilities are unnerving.” Georgette sighed. “Much of last night is still foggy. While we were eating, I thought of Martin’s phone call. He called before you arrived. At first he sounded strained, as if testing the waters. He made a few jokes and we laughed like normal. But at the end of the conversation he told me he owed me an apology. I’ve just remembered why he would say that…I made a pass at him last night after he got me home. After seeing Trip with that woman, I didn’t want to be alone. Martin was so kind and tender with me. He’s always there for me. I thought, ‘Why not?’ So I kissed him and asked him to spend the night. We began kissing and—this is the worse part—I called him Rod by mistake. He pulled away and coldly told me to get some sleep. I feel so bad, Jennifer. He’s been in love with me for three years. Trip used to tease me about Martin, saying he would sweep me away if I gave him a sign.”
Jennifer said, “Sometimes we do crazy things during an alcohol haze. I’m sure he realizes you didn’t mean any harm.”
“It breaks my heart to think I hurt him. He’s my best friend. Susan introduced us at one of her parties and pushed us together every time she got the chance. I knew he was interested immediately. I told him about Trip and Martin said he preferred having me as a friend, than nothing at all.”
“I’m finding it amazing that you’ve overlooked one aspect of incident with Martin—you said Rod’s name instead of his. That’s a Freudian slip if I ever heard of one,” said Jennifer.
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Chapter 5
The View
One of the hardest things Georgette had ever done in her life was keeping her appointment with Rod to view pre-renovated downtown. She hadn’t been there in a very long time because it was in a part of town she rarely went to. One aspect that kept her away was the high volume of criminal acts. The city had almost abandoned the maintenance of the park by the lake and alleys of the stores in favor of developing businesses on lands closer to the interstate, hoping to lure tourism to the shops, restaurants and motels.
Sadly, the downtown portion of the city had fallen into a decrepit state with building abandoned and boarded up with unsightly plywood panels. The park was overgrown with weeds and the litter of many nights of partying by persons unknown. The alleys and parking lots had little or no light, to discourage the unnatural shadows of drug addicts and other unfavorable people. The once glorious downtown was now a den of debauchery.
Georgette arrived late due to procrastination and a traffic jam. Rod was talking to a few men who were removing wood that had been nailed across a building that was beside the parking lot they had agreed to meet at. He waved her over to them once she had parked her jeep. She tried to look like her normal self with her braid wrapped around her head. Everything she wore was made of denim except her under garments, shoes, socks and the scarf she had woven around her neck to keep the chill off it. She hoped that any resemblance of the wild woman who had kissed him as if he were her boy toy would be lost in the neutrality of denim.
Rod greeted her with his usual warmth. She detected no smirking or taunting in his eyes. She let out a long silence sigh of relief and returned his greeting. He said goodbye to the men and took Georgette by the elbow, steering her as they walked around the area. He discussed the plans that the committee had finally agreed upon, pointing out the areas that would need Georgette’s landscaping expertise. She made notes on a small pad. Before the really hard freezes came and froze up the ground, she would have to come back and take soil samples. That would be a great project for her and Heather when they needed a break from the holiday rush. Thanksgiving was days away and once it arrived; the garden center and nursery would be swamped with shoppers.
She could envision the images Rod painted as he described the nature trails that were going to be developed around the lake, the gazebos in the park and the new fountain that was going in the heart of downtown. New historic signs were commissioned to be printed and also, a monument honoring veterans of all the wars that the US had ever been a part of was going to be placed close to the fountain.
When he was finished with his renovation tour, Rod took Georgette to see some of the renovations of the old buildings. The city wanted to lure specialty shops to downtown. The theory was that once the whole area was renovated, then business owners would want a part of it. She was impressed until she glanced down one of the streets and saw in the distance, the new townhouses that were being built. There was a rumor that the cheapest was estimated to cost half a million dollars. Suddenly it was clear why the renovation project was the town’s priority. The rich couldn’t bear the thought of glancing out their window and seeing a shamble of rotting old wood—the decaying corpse of a once lively quarter. Downtown was their eye sore and they were going to spend a lot of money to heal it.
Once the tour of the buildings was complete, Rod took Georgette over to the park to show her where the fountain, monument and other historic signs were to be placed. He was especially proud of the designs for the Veterans’ Monument.
They were standing by a picnic area. Rod was giving her a detailed description of the fountain, when a gruff voice asked, “Got a quarter, Miss?”
A vagrant had appeared out of the thicket close to where they were standing. Georgette couldn’t determine his age. She knew time could add years to a face. This man’s face carried wrinkles of time. He had a thick crop of salt and pepper hair, which was tangled and had twigs in it. His face sported a full beard, which was sparse in places. When her eyes met his, she felt as if he looked into her soul and left graffiti on the walls. She felt a touch of pity for him, because it was freezing and all he wore was a thin jacket.
Rod pulled Georgette away from the man, as if he were a wild beast ready to rip her throat. “Mister, you’ve been told not to loiter around here,” said Rod.
“Sonny, where should I go? To the Hilton? Or maybe over to my buddy, The Mayor’s house?” The man ended his questions with a long phlegm-filled cough, which broke Georgette’s heart.
She said, “No sir, I don’t have a quarter but I do have this.” Stepping forward, she removed her scarf and put it around his neck. Her regret of the moment was that she had left her gloves in the jeep. “It’s cold, sir. You shouldn’t be out in this weather with that cough.”
“Thank you, Miss. You’re an angel. God bless you.” The man’s eyes sparkled with tears of gratitude. Georgette wanted to hug him, but she wasn’t sure about vagrant etiquette. Rod cleared his throat and the man said, “I’m moving on.” Then he disappeared into the shrubbery.
Full of impatience and contempt, Rod took Georgette firmly by the arm and marched her in the opposite direction. Anger shook his voice. “Why did you do that? You’re only encouraging him. He’ll probably sell your scarf for a 30 ounce bottle of beer.”
Georgette retorted, “Rod, not everyone is as fortunate as you and I are. One of the problems of the world is the way we turn a blind eye on the poor and homeless. Do you really think he would be out in on a cold day like this, wearing only a thin coat? He didn’t have on socks either. Just shoes with holes.”
Rod stared at her for a moment, and then said, “You can’t help a person who refuses to accept aid. There are places that offer help and he knows that.” Georgette kept trying to interrupt him, but he firmly shut her down by saying, “And this conversation is going to go no where. Let’s change the subject. Like…why weren’t you seated with the committee members at Susan Ritter’s party?”
“Oh, I don’t know. She asked that Martin and I dine with Elijah in the study with some of the other guests. He wasn’t himself and she felt her duties belonged elsewhere.”
Rod said dryly, “I had to endure a rather boring dinner, watching Redden flirt with the hostess. Next time, I’ll make sure you’re seated at the proper table. Even if I have to seat you myself.”
“Where is Redden? Wasn’t he supposed to be here?” Georgette was privately happy that he wasn’t around. If she were the last woman on earth, and it was up to her to restock the world with humans, and she had to choose which man to mate with—the homeless man or Redden, the homeless man would win.
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Threatening Skies
Jennifer was irate over the handling of the closing of her townhouse. She called Dale’s office at least twenty times over a three day period. No one knew what was going on and he refused to return her calls. According to her attorney, Dale’s office kept coming up with excuses, as to why they were late with the finalizing of the sale.
She decided to take matters into her own hands. When Celeste was out for lunch, Jennifer Xeroxed copies of her cell phone statement from the last 2 or so months and emailed them to Dale with a demand. “If this deal isn’t closed in 2 days and I’m not in my new townhouse by January 1, I’m sending your wife copies of the sexy email that you’ve sent to me daily. And to reinforce them, I’ll send copies of my cell phone statement. Check out October 27. You called me 23 times. How sweet! You might be able to explain the day time calls but what about the ones you made at 1 am from the bathroom, where you masturbated while I listened? Tsk, those will be tricky.”
Ten minutes after sending the email, Jennifer’s attorney called with the news that Dale Larkin was sending over the bill of sales and other legal papers for her to sign. She cleared her afternoon, so she could drop by his office and sign them, once they’ve perused all the fine details. Jennifer had a bargaining tool and she planned to gain as much from it as she possibly could within reason.
Celeste returned to her desk from lunch, humming under her breath. She looked happy about something, but Jennifer didn’t bother to find out. It was probably over the flavor-of-the-week. She told Celeste that she was going to be gone the rest of the day and gave her instructions on what she wanted her to do.
When Jennifer cleared the bank building, she reached inside her handbag for her cell phone. She knew Georgette would find much humor in her email to Dale. One of Georgette’s favorite topics of conversation was about methods of revenge on Trip and Dale. Before she could place the call, Martin Schmidt appeared out of the blue beside her.
“Hello Jennifer? How are you today?” His head was as brilliant as a small sun.
“I’m very well, thank you. How are you?” She showered him with one of her rare smiles, the ones that look like sunlight peeping from behind clouds and for a moment, he was speechless.
“I was about to call Georgette. She speaks highly of you, by the way. And the funny stories she tells. I think some are embellished, especially the one where the circus elephant went wild and chased both of you around the parking lot. Not one vehicle was damaged.” Jennifer laughed.
“Oh I know that one. We were at the circus but it wasn’t an elephant that escaped. It was a monkey and he terrorized an old man with a bushy moustache, before the trainers got him under control. We got back a few years. She’s a good person. But watch out. She’s a bit mischievous at times. If she says, ‘Hey I’ve got the greatest idea…’ I suggest you run for the hills.”
She laughed, “I’ve figured that out.” Her smile faltered when she noticed the indecision on his face, as he struggled inwardly over something unpleasant. “What brings you here today? If you’re here to see me, I am on my way out.”
“Your brother, Jennifer. He wants a meeting. To reconcile. He asked that I arrange it. He said he would meet you on your terms. No matter what they were.”
She snapped the phone shut and said as tersely as possible, “No, I won’t meet him. I told you a few weeks ago that I will not be drawn back into the family. To me, he’s dead. End of story.”
To her receding back, he said, “Ask Georgette about her brother. He’s dead too you know. But first make sure she’s had a little wine. A rainy night would be perfect. And also turn out the lights. But be prepared to hold her hand as she sobs herself to sleep.”
When he spoke, she stopped but didn’t turn around. After he finished speaking, she walked away as briskly as she could. Jennifer hated a manipulative lawyer.
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Caveman Mentality
“To answer your question, Redden’s somewhere bugging women, though I did leave a message for him regarding the change in our plans,” said Rod. They were by Georgette’s jeep. She had the keys in her hand ready to say goodbye and get back to work. But his comment sent a wave of indignation over her.
She verbalized her indignation, “He’s a slimy snake. I’m shocked at what he gets by with. I danced with him at the party and his hands kept sliding down. He blamed it on the slippery fabric of my dress, but we both know that wasn’t the real reason.”
“You stopped him, didn’t you?” He almost roared the question at her.
“Yes, by promptly stepping on his feet a few times. My feet are still sore but I’m thankful I wore those stiletto heel shoes.”
Rod laughed. “I am, too. That man needs to learn to harness his caveman instincts, like the rest of us civilized manly men. Women today don’t like the idea of a man dragging them into a cave by their hair.”
Georgette teased him. “Yours are harnessed?”
“Yes. I’ve got them tightly reined in. But Miss Witt, your Amazon side isn’t. Not that I’m complaining.” He laughed.
She didn’t. A flush of red covered her face. She mumbled a goodbye and jumped into her jeep, grinding gears as she tried to escape his laugh. Glancing back at him in her rear-view mirror, she saw that he was bent over laughing so hard that he held his sides. Georgette waited a few blocks before she allowed herself the privilege of laughter.
When she arrived back at Buckets of Daisies, she went into the show room to check on the workers. She was alarmed to hear that Redden was milling around somewhere in the building. According to one of the service desk girls, he told her that he was supposed to meet her and Rod. Georgette went in search of him. She spent thirty minutes walking over the warehouse and showrooms. When she was in a hurry, it seems as if the building grew extra rooms. He wasn’t found in any of the public nurseries.
Georgette was about to give up the search when it struck her that he might be in one of the off limit greenhouses—the ones where she germinated seeds and carefully nurtured saplings until they were large enough to sell. To her displeasure, he was in the A-framed greenhouse, talking to Heather who had the expression of a mouse cornered by a cat.
She hailed him. “Mr. Redden, I heard you were looking for me.”
He reluctantly allowed Heather to escape. She rushed by, mumbling something about being late for her break. Georgette rounded on Redden. “Sir, no one’s allowed in the greenhouses, except for personnel.” She pointed to a sign posted on the door.
“I didn’t notice the sign. Your employee, Heather is a very sweet girl. You’re lucky to have her working for you. I’m jealous. These days it is very difficult to find quality employees.”
Georgette’s radar went off, but she managed to remain polite. “Yes, she’s a good worker. I don’t know what I would do without her. In fact, she’s like a daughter to me. I would protect her with my life if need be.” She hoped he read between the lines and realized Heather was off limits.
If he got Georgette’s veiled warning, it didn’t register on his features or in his tone. “Where’s Hutchins? He’s late for our downtown tour.”
“We’ve already had it. Rod told me he left word with your secretary that the time was changed to the morning. Didn’t you get it?’ asked Georgette.
He frowned. “No. I’ll have a word with her when I get back to my office.” His usual painted smile returned when he said, “You were a lovely vision at Susan and Elijah Ritter’s party. I could have danced with you all night long.”
“Your feet would be ruined. I’m a terrible dancer, don’t you remember?’
He forged a laugh. “Yes, now that I think about it, I do remember. The Ritters are having another party in December. I’ll remind Susan that you are on the committee and deserve a prime spot at the head table. I didn’t realize you were left out until Rod mentioned it to me.” He clasped her hand within his and said, “I guarantee a spot beside me at the next one.” Then he kissed it.
“Oh, don’t go to a lot of trouble over me. The table can only seat so many. Well, Mr. Redden I must get back to work. Rod should be in his office shortly. You can contact him there if you need to.” She forced herself to gently remove her hand from his clammy ones, though she wanted to snatch it away.
After he left, she sought out Heather in the employee lounge. The poor girl looked wan. “Heather, are you all right?” asked Georgette.
“I don’t mean any disrespect, Miss Witt, but that man is sinister. He gives off bad vibes.”
“He didn’t act inappropriately did he? You can be honest. I’ll believe anything you say.” Georgette’s bile rose at the thought of Redden trying to force himself on Heather.
“He asked weird questions, like did I have a lot of male friends and was I a social butterfly? Did I like to party and if I was in a sorority. I wasn’t sure what I should tell him. Then you arrived and I ran for it. I wonder why he asked those questions.”
“Probably trying to figure out if you would have vengeful males chasing his ass down if he made a pass at you. Listen, if he ever shows up in the greenhouses, you leave immediately. Make up whatever excuse you need to.”
“Is he a pervert?” asked Heather. “Or just a dirty old man?”
“He’s a dirty old man, Heather. And to some people, they’re the same.
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Stones And Gin
Jennifer hoped she wasn’t overdressed for the sports bar. Georgette had rung her earlier and asked her to meet her there for dinner. On the drive over, Jennifer wondered what kind of man would name a bar “Stones and Bones.” When she walked into the bar, she saw why. There were altars of stones at every turn.
A small crowd gathered at the bar. There were shouts of “Kick his ass, Georgette.” Jennifer smiled. Upon first impression, Georgette emitted a shy fragile daisy essence, but once you got to know her, you realized she was anything but fragile, except where Trip Trevor was concerned. Hopefully time would change that.
Jennifer pushed her way through the crowd and was amused to find Georgette thumb wrestling with the brawny bartender, who looked like he could break her arm off if he so much as leaned forward a bit. After a brief struggle, he let Georgette win. The crowd went wild. He yelled, “No fair. Your hair’s made of spinach. That’s why I can’t win.”
Georgette laughed, “Britt, don’t bull me. You’ve got pirates living in your dimples, if you really wanted to win, you would have them kick my butt.” She noticed Jennifer and her amused smile. “Britt, meet Jennifer Swann. She’s my new friend. Jennifer, this is Britt Sims, the owner of Stones and Bones.”
He shook Jennifer’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. A friend of Georgette’s is a friend of mine too. What can I get you? Tonight your drinks are on me.”
“Surprise me with something light and fruity.”
Georgette placed her hand on Jennifer’s arm and said, “Look out Jennifer. He’s a savvy buccaneer type and will sail off into the moonlight with you, if you aren’t careful.”
Britt’s response was a hearty “Argh.” Then he went off to create a perfect light and fruity drink for Jennifer.
The ladies moved to the corner of the bar that faced the entry, this way they could see who arrived. They discussed their day as Britt pried them with his new house drink he named “Gin-nifer.” Both women asked him to go light on the gin, when he made their drinks. Neither needed a hangover the next day.
When the crowd grew larger, Britt became to busy to flirt with Jennifer, which gave the girls an opportunity to talk privately.
“I saw your friend Martin this afternoon, as I was leaving the bank. We chatted for a moment,” said Jennifer.
“I haven’t seen him since the party. We’ve talked on the phone. I just realized we haven’t had our regular weeknight dinner date I talked to him before I left the office. Funny he didn’t mention you, when I called to invite him along.”
“Is he joining us?”
“No, he said he had other plans.”
“It’s for the best. We ended our conversation on a sour note. He represents my brother, who is trying to reconcile our sibling rivalry. I really don’t understand why he’s so interested in reconciliation. So much time has passed on and he’s bought out my share of the inheritance.”
“If it’s none of my business, say so, but I have to ask…why are you estranged from your family?”
“After mother died, I married a man that my father despised. He disowned me. My brother turned his back on me, because my father insisted he do so. I was young and foolish. When the marriage fell apart, all my father could say was ‘I told you so’ and turn his back on me. He’s dead now and with his death my brother grew backbone. But it’s too late.”
“He may want to offer an apology.”
“It’s too late, Georgette. Too much time has gone by. The scars from my wounds run deep,” said Jennifer.
Georgette sat in silence. In the silence there was sorrow, bitterness and a tad of regret. “I’m sorry, Jennifer. Families deal with stress the best way they know how. Some make life seem so easy and others make it difficult, especially for the ones they love. I would give anything to talk to my brother just once.”
“Martin said I should get you to tell me about your brother. I know he said it to manipulate me into talking with my brother. Lawyers are like that,” said Jennifer.
“No. If he told you to ask me about my brother’s misfortune, then he has good reason. Martin knows the whole story. He could have told you himself and save me from having to relive it.” Georgette couldn’t tell her tonight. She needed to prepare herself first. “To quote you, ‘it’s a long story. And today isn’t the day for it.’”
Jennifer nudged Georgette in the side. Susan Ritter and Theresa Champagne had just entered the bar. They were greeted by various people, most exclaiming to Theresa that her show was the best on the airwaves.
“Susan has a new best friend,” said Jennifer. “Should I be jealous?”
“Only if you fantasize about a pink Cadillac.”
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Battle One
Susan and Theresa settled into a booth close to the ladies room. They weren’t alone for long, mainly because Theresa was a semi-celebrity. Jennifer and Georgette watched their antics for a while, until they grew bored. Susan was in competition with Theresa over the attention of anyone who wandered over to their booth.
One of Jennifer’s colleagues from the bank stopped by to say hello and they ended up in a long discussion over the loan department of the bank. Georgette listened politely at first but she grew bored with that conversation quickly.
She excused herself and sought the ladies room. When she walked past the booth where Susan and Theresa sat entertaining, she noticed that Theresa stared at her and then whispered something into Susan’s ear, causing her to look at Georgette, who beat a hasty retreat to the restroom.
She was washing her hands and checking her appearance in the mirror, when the door opened and in walked Theresa Champagne. She smiled at Georgette. “You’re the person I’ve been dying to talk to alone.” She didn’t wait for Georgette to reply. “I think the way you are so devoted to Trip is inspiring. I wish I had someone who wouldn’t mind being a virtual slave.”
Georgette didn’t like the way the conversation was heading or the familiar way Theresa talked to her, as if she was there during the years Georgette devoted herself to Trip. It occurred to her that Trip must have confided to Theresa, about her. All the years of drilling into Georgette’s skull that he valued privacy above air were null now that he had told Theresa—a hungry talk show host, looking for her next story—about their past relationship.
She managed to fake a smile as big as Theresa’s fake boobs. “Trip? You are talking about Walter Gordon Stubbs, also known as Trip Trevor, aren’t you?”
“Walter Gordon Stubbs!! That’s his real name?” Theresa laughed. “I would change my name too if it were as bad as that?”
“You already have. I don’t believe for one moment that Theresa Champagne is your real name.” Georgette had nothing to lose and she didn’t worry about whatever damage Theresa Champagne might try to impose upon her, Georgette had dealt with sharper and hungrier cutthroats. She knew the best way to deal with one like Ms. Champagne was to grab her by the throat and shake her to death.
Georgette said, “I don’t know what Trip told you about me. Since you know that I was his virtual slave that must mean he broke his vow of silence regarding us. Since he’s done that, well, I’m at liberty to retaliate. You see Ms Champagne I’ve been with Trip Trevor’s secret lover for eight years. I know everything there is to know about the man—all the dirty little secrets he keeps locked up in his mental cabinet. I know his fears and his weird little habits. There isn’t anything I don’t know about that man. If you had of come to me with a little more humility and a little less arrogance, I might have shared them with you. But you didn’t. You chose to swipe at me without listening to my side. Is that great journalism? Do you go blind on your radio show, refusing to see all sides of an issue?”
Georgette didn’t allow her an answer, she continued, “Let me give you a warning, Ms. Champagne. Trip’s ego is very large and needs constant stroking. In the long run, he’ll ask you to choose between your career and him. If I were you, I would start weighing them. Maybe even make a pros and cons list. One last thing…Trip’s a very private person. If he hears his name connected to mine via your show or something you told someone, namely Susan Ritter, then it will be over for you and him. He will sever the ties quicker than you can say ‘Pink Cadillac.’” Georgette turned and walked away, before Theresa could regain her composure.
When she returned to the bar, Jennifer asked, “What just happened? You look like you’re going to call down the Wrath of the Goddess at any second now.”
“Theresa Champagne ambushed me in the restroom. She knows something abut me and Trip. I’m not sure what she knows, maybe just enough to whet her appetite. Regardless of what she knows, she went about it the wrong way if she was trying to get more information out of me. That woman is infuriating. Trip has his hands full.”
penned by Painter Lady at 9:34 AM
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