November 6, 2005

• The beginning of Chapter Two….

  Having
  finally shooed Val off the premises, Maud turned back to clean up the
  remnants of the cookie baking. As she began rinsing out the bowl the
  phone rang; glancing at it she saw it was the second line, the
  business line, and quickly picked up the handset.
  

  “Thank
  you for calling Maudest Endeavors” was the crisp greeting, which
  rolled off Maud’s tongue with practiced ease.
  

  “Maudie!”
  screeched a high-pitched, feminine voice, causing her to wince and
  move the handset an inch or two from her ear. “You’re there!“
  

  Maud
  never knew how to respond to something like that. Obviously she’s
  “there” else she wouldn’t have answered the phone, plus if the
  caller didn’t expect her to be there, why call at all? She ran
  through various ripostes in her mind, rejected them all as both
  lacking in charity and bad for business, so contented herself with a
  sedate, “I am, indeed, Diane. What can I do for you?”
  

  “Darling,
  you are aware of the Heart-2-Heart affair on February
  thirteenth, aren’t you? Everybody’s talking about it, and
  tickets are selling like crazy. I just knew you’d be
  heartbroken if you didn’t get an opportunity to purchase a table, so
  here’s little me, giving you that chance!” burbled
  Diane merrily.
  

  “A
  table? What kind of a table?” Maud inquired cautiously. She’d
  dealt with Diane for years, and it usually ended up being both
  painful, due to a stress headache, and expensive, due to Diane’s
  undeniable knack for fund raising, as she grabbed hold like a pit
  bull, and hung on till she got what she wanted.
  

  Diane’s
  voice turned patient and reproachful. “A table at the dance,
  silly billy. We’re not serving dinner, but there will
  be drinks and hors d’oeuvres throughout, plus a midnight breakfast
  buffet. There will be some individual seating available,
  naturally, but for those who want to be really comfy – not
  to mention support Glad Knees program – the best option is to
  purchase a seat at a table, or even better, a whole table for
  themselves and their party. Now then, let me check my chart .
  . . I can offer you a table for six for $300, or a table for eight
  for $375. Frankly, I’d go with the table for eight, since you’re
  getting two additional seats for $37.50 each, a real savings. Shall
  I put your name on that one?” she asked, clearly expecting a
  positive response.
  

  “Wait
  a minute! I haven’t said I want either one. Why would I want
  to shell out three hundred bucks for a table? Especially since you
  just said there will be other
  seating, and who knows if I’d stay for the breakfast buffet, anyway?
  Who eats breakfast at midnight, for pity’s sake?” Maud groused,
  sinking onto a stool at the counter and glumly staring at the floor.
  If past experience were a reliable predictor of the future, she was
  about to kiss a few hundred bucks goodbye, but by jingo, she wouldn’t
  go down without a fight.
  

  Diane
  sounded shocked at this sign of hesitancy on Maud’s part. “Why
  would you want to? My dear, a more reasonable
  question is why wouldn’t you want to? All those who purchase
  tables are listed in the program in the ICU, after
  all,” she pointed out.
  

  “Uh,
  the ICU…?” Maud repeated weakly.
  

  Diane’s
  veneer of affability was wearing thin as she replied shortly, “The
  Intense Carers’ Unit, of course.”
  

  Maud
  switched the handset from her left hand to her right, the better to
  rub her left temple, where a slight throb was already making itself
  felt. “Oh yes. Of course. Intense Carers. Right.”
  

  Encouraged
  by this feeble agreement, Diane persisted in her arguments. “Not
  to mention you’d get a lovely, handpainted sign on your table,
  so everyone can see Maudest Endeavors is supporting one of
  Fort Worth’s finest charitable enterprises, which will in turn
  encourage them to support Maudest Endeavors. Why
  really,” she declared, “when one thinks about it, that
  sort of advertisement is a steal at a measly $375. Doubtless
  many, if not most, of your regular clientele will
  be present, and wouldn’t you be proud to be able to offer them
  a seat at your table? Why, of course you would. How
  frightful if all you could do is wave at them from a
  chair by the wall, for all the world as if you were a
  wallflower at a high school dance. Maud, I can’t bear the
  thought, no, I simply cannot. Do tell me you
  are going to do the sensible,
  generous thing and…”
  

  By
  this time the slight throb had escalated to a full scale steel drum
  band, leaving Maud willing to pay almost any amount of money to stop
  the relentless voice hammering away in her right ear. She shifted
  the phone back to her left hand to give the right ear a chance to
  heal, then interrupted her well-meaning persecutor. “Fine.
  Alright. I’ll take it.”
  

  Immediately
  the voice changed gears, exclaiming sunnily, “Wonderful,
  Maudie! I just knew Glad Knees and those darling Russian
  orphans could count on you! May I fax over the reservation
  form to you?”
  

  Maud
  nodded in resignation, realized Diane couldn’t see that, then told
  her fine, her fax number is on her business card.
  

  “Oh,
  one more teeny-tiny, eensy-weensy thing,
  Maudie,” Diane said, wheedler turned up full blast. Maud mimed
  shooting herself in the head, then a hangman’s noose, finally
  settling for laying her forehead on the counter.
  

  “What?”
  she responded through gritted teeth. “You just stung me for nearly
  four hundred bucks…what more can there be?”
  

  Diane
  assumed the brisk air of one who has wasted far too much time on
  needless pleasantries and must now get down to cases. “The silent
  auction. Naturally Maudest Endeavors will be donating a generous
  gift for that. Tell you what, I’ll save us both some
  time and just fax over the donation form along with the table
  reservation form, alrighty rooney? Toodles, Maudie! You’re one of
  the very, very best!”  The line went dead as Diane rang off
  before Maud could say anything. Which, she reflected, was probably
  for the best, all things considered.

  ====================
  

  BTW,
  it has been brought home to me that as I make changes to the story, the
  more observant readers will find occasional discrepancies.  For
  instance, Claude’s church was originally Eastchase Bible, but is now
  Veritas Bible. 
  

  There’s nothing like writing a book (of sorts) to bring out one’s inner fiddler.  ;^)
  

  • 5:33 pm
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