Mayor Charlotte Granger
Thirty minutes here and Mrs. McMurtry had yet to let go of my ear.
“Mayor Charlotte, so glad you could be here! My son-in-law was so pleased to get your email and be part of this amazing event! Isn’t this boat just divine?”
I had to hand it to the woman. She sets her mind to something, she gets it done.
“Have you met the Nutwells, Pete and Jessica … he’s the judge here, so of course, you probably know him. And she’s a non-practicing attorney. They’ll be here this evening, finally back in the swing, like me, although they didn’t lose their home and, well, live in a hotel for the past six months.”
I guess I had to ask. “So what have they been doing?”
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to speak out of turn … let’s just say he was, well, keeping a low profile for a time, that’s all. … Oh, there’s Cassie … I’d better run and make sure she has all she needs. Well, have fun, of course! And welcome!”
And suddenly I was left alone, trapped on a boat – a good boat, mind you, but still trapped.
“Mayor Granger?”
Lindy reached out to shake my hand. “So good to meet you in person. This is Mercury, my wife.”
I shook Mercury’s hand. Her face was an exact replica of her mother’s, just a few years younger. The resemblance was unmistakable, I couldn’t help but mention it.
“Mercury, good to meet you. You look so much like your mother, it’s incredible!”
She took a long sip of her wine and nodded. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
I tried to recover. “Well, we owe you both a debt of gratitude for playing host. This boat is just amazing, and what a perfect setting for a fundraiser!”
Mercury turned toward her husband. “Honey, I need more wine, can you fill me up? Mayor, do you need a refill?”
“No, I’m okay,” I said.
“Suit yourself,” she said as Lindy took her glass and headed for the bar. “My mother’s parties – or meetings for that matter – often have a three-drink minimum, but I guess you’ve already figured that out.”
I smiled. “Yes, I picked up on that.”
—
Wanda Moreno
Stu, if only you could see me now … hob-knobbing with the movers and the shakers!
Yes, this is what I have become, since you left me. This is where I should be. But as far away from that wet-blanket Bernie and his negativity. I can’t believe I agreed to arrive with him – I should know better. I will say he dressed the part – what with the open-necked collar and wrinkled pants. Hardly appropriate for something like this.
“Wanda!”
I turned. “Bitsy, darling, so good to … see you again!”
“Yes, dear, of course,” Bitsy said. “Now I know you have a rough job what with all the rumor mills twirling about … certainly around any efforts toward Mick’s memorial, but please rest assured that, tonight, as we launch the Mick Righteous Memorial Foundation, we will want your input and, quite possibly, to ask you to join the board. That’s why we invited you today. Your feedback will be invaluable.”
Finally! Oh, to express the thrill of hearing those words!
“Bitsy, you won’t be sorry. I have so many ideas!”
Bitsy tossed a finger in the air and pointed at her empty wine glass. “Yes, dear, and we’ll all look forward to hearing them just as soon as we can get the meeting together. Now mingle, please, by all means … and don’t miss the buffet!”
Like I would miss macaroni and lobster.
—
Bernie Rossie
Hail, hail, the Hughes’ are all here, and they seem to have picked up a rich tech type.
I had a found a nice, centrally-located perch in the middle of the boat – one foot in the kitchen, one in the main cabin with a view of the upper deck. The four had sailed in, her father saying over and over again “we have news” and fawning all over Carson.
Of course, the way he fawned over Elyse, it seemed par for this party.
“Bernie, how are ya?”
“Cassie, did I hear correctly? You catered this crazy?”
She nodded. “Guilty as charged.”
“Well, the shrimp is … amazing. In any event, sorry I haven’t been around lately. I’ll get some of the guys together and come in one of these nights.”
“That’ll be fine. In the meantime, enjoy!”
Easy for her to say.
—
Elyse Hughes
“Father, have a seat.”
“Well, aren’t we going to make an announcement?”
“Oh Elyse, I tried to calm him down a minute ago, you might just need to let him go!”
“Let him go, mother? Let him go and do what exactly?”
“Make his little announcement. You know, I’m sure Mrs. McMurtry wouldn’t mind.”
“Father, if you make one move toward that microphone, I swear …”
As if summoned, a shrimp waiter stepped in.
“Sir, may I freshen your drink. Scotch is it?”
He nodded and sat down. “Well, I’m just about as happy as I could be for two people, and all I want to do is share it with the whole world!”
I looked in Carson’s direction, but he was involved in what seemed like a deep conversation with Marjorie. I guess he was sharing our news, though I hoped not. This was already feeling like a runaway train, and I didn’t like not being part of the decision.
The shrimp waiter returned. “Ah yes, cheers to you, my darling, and your soon-to-be-husband Carson. A good pick this time through if I may just say.”
True to form, he already had.
[…] by any stretch, my most fervent Christmas wish is that life simply returns to normal – no galas, no fund raisers, no discussion of my ex-husband. Back to […]