by R. S. Lively
Any chance of civility is dwindling rapidly.
"You're telling me they hired someone who doesn't even live on the island to take over a part of an event I am supposed to be in charge of, and it just has to be you. And not only that, but you expect what I'm planning to take a backseat to your event. Instead of trusting me with the whole thing, they hired you."
Grant gives me a smug grin.
"Don't worry about it. It's best to leave things to the professionals."
Judy walks up to the table right at that moment, the tray in her hands laden with every color of Jell-O available.
"I couldn't choose," she says. "They are all so hypnotic with their jiggling."
Judy lifts the tray so she can bring her face level with the clear plastic containers of gelatin and watches them do the hula for a few seconds.
"It was lovely to meet you," Grant says to Judy. "I've got to go. I have a lot of work to do."
Judy's eyes follow him as he walks away, then snap back to me.
"I didn't meet him. Did I meet him?"
"No, and you don't want to."
She sets the tray onto the table, and sits down.
"I'm pretty sure I do. He's been the screensaver of my mind since you admitted you for-real yelled at him on the first day of school. Which you still haven't explained to me, by the way, not that I'm hurt or anything, because I thought we were friends."
The words pour out of her mouth in one continuous stream, and she casually pokes at one of the jiggly blue masses with a white plastic spork. I sigh.
"That is Grant Laurence," I tell her. "Why don't you come over to my house for pizza tonight, and I will tell you the whole sordid story."
Her eyes light up.
"Pizza party!"
Grant
The next day…
"Thank you for taking the time out of your day to have this meeting, Grant. I know you're busy. I really appreciate how much time and effort you're devoting to this project."
"Absolutely, Mrs. Burke. It's my job." I say to the vice principal's crinkly neck skin. "Like I told you at the beginning, though, I do have other clients, and I am going into a very busy part of my schedule. The next few weeks leading up to Homecoming are going to be packed, and I'm not going to be able to make trips over to the island until I come to spend that week in Magnolia Falls with my brothers."
"I understand that," the crinkly skin says, slightly moving a strand of red beads with each word. "And that's why I asked for this video conference. I had an idea."
I hear what sounds like someone knocking on a door, and Mrs. Burke calls out for the person to come in.
"You wanted to see me?"
It's Emma's voice, and I immediately get a sinking feeling.
"Yes, Emma. Come on in. Thanks for stopping by. Take a seat."
The image on the screen blurs as Mrs. Burke swings her phone around to face Emma. She doesn't do any better aiming the camera, but I am not averse to staring into Emma's cleavage peeking out from the neckline of her tasteful white blouse.
"Grant?" her voice says.
She leans forward just enough that her neckline shifts and I get a brief glimpse of the lacy bra she's wearing.
"He's here via satellite," Mrs. Burke says.
It's not entirely accurate, but I don't want to spoil her delight.
"Hello, Emma," I say.
She doesn't respond, but I can't help but notice the hint of flush that comes to her chest.
"Emma, I know that you have been working hard on your plans for Mr. Bernheimer's retirement celebration later this year. I've reviewed your ideas, and you have some great things going. I think it will be lovely. But I have a little secret for you." There's a scuffling sound and I can imagine Mrs. Burke has leaned across her desk to conspire, because the phone is now pointed squarely at Emma's lap. "I've been working with Grant on an enhancement to the event."
"An enhancement?" Emma asks as though she knows nothing about it.
"Yes." The phone shifts back as Mrs. Burke sits down again. "As you may know, the Magnolia Falls High School was largely destroyed by a fire several decades ago when Mr. Bernheimer was a student. This caused their prom to be canceled, which was devastating to them. As his long-time friend, I know just how much it has impacted him throughout his life. Grant here is an expert at making people's deepest desires become a reality."
"Is he now?" Emma asks.
I think of the color that rose to her cheeks when I mentioned the backseat, and feel my stomach tighten.
"Emma is well-versed in my abilities," I say, giving just enough of a pause for the words to settle in before sweeping back in. "I've told her about my company."
I can't see Emma's face, but I can imagine the expression, and it brings a smile to my lips.
"Oh. Well, good," Mrs. Burke says. "Then you understand why I reached out to him. I've hired Grant and his company to recreate a prom for Mr. Bernheimer and his classmates. I think it's going to be a truly incredible experience, and I am very much looking forward to the results I know Grant will be able to create something that will truly touch their hearts."
"I only hope the two events don't clash with each other," Emma says.
"So do I," Mrs. Burke says. "I know how much energy and effort you are putting into your plans, and Grant is a very busy man. Which is why I came up with what I think is the ideal solution."
"You have?" Emma asks.
Her voice sounds flat, and I think both of us know what's coming.
"Yes," Mrs. Burke says enthusiastically. "You can help him!"
"Help him?" Emma asks. "What do you mean help him?"
"Since you're here on the island, you can help him when he's not able to be here. Then when he is here, the two of you can put your heads together, and really make something magnificent. Now, Grant, don't think for a second I doubt your abilities."
"Of course not, Mrs. Burke," I say, fighting the laughter tingling on my lips. "I will appreciate the help since I need to devote so much of my time to being here with my other clients."
"It will also be such a sweet touch to know two alumni have come together to work on this event for our beloved principal."
"Yes," Emma says. "Sweet."
Mrs. Burke lifts the camera just long enough for me to get a look at Emma's glaring expression before turning it back to herself.
"Now, the issue of payment. Emma, since the planning of events like this is already part of your job, I will leave the choice of additional compensation up to Grant."
"Compensation?" Emma's voice asks.
"Of course. I hired Grant's company, so the school, alumni association, and Magnolia Falls Historical Society have all come together to pay his fee."
"It's just my standard commission," I say, "and the cost of the vendors."
I can hear Emma draw in a breath, and I know the thought of me getting paid for this is making her even angrier.
"So, we're agreed?" Mrs. Burke asks.
"I'm looking forward to it," I say.
"Emma?"
"Absolutely."
Her voice is low, almost menacing now, but Mrs. Burke hasn't noticed. Her crinkly neck skin seems just as happy as it was at the beginning of the call.
"Perfect! But remember, it's a surprise."
"The secret's safe with me," Emma says.
The call ends and less than three minutes later, my intercom buzzes.
"Yes, Gwen?" I say into it.
"Um, Mr. Laurence, I'm sorry to bother you, but there is a very angry woman on the phone. She insists on speaking to you directly. Apparently, she has been rather...determined...with the call center."
"Put her through."
My phone rings, and I pick it up.
"Hello, Emma."
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"I'm working at the moment, and by the time, I'd think that's what you'd be doing, too."
"You know I'm at work," she says, her voice getting progressively angrier. "I just fucking
talked to you."
"I'd appreciate it if you're going to call me at my office, you treat my employees with more respect."
"Don't boss me around, Grant. I don't work for you."
"Mrs. Burke seems to think differently."
"No, Mrs. Burke wants us to work together. Who the hell knows why."
"You're complaining now? You were just pissed because she hired me to do this because you think she should have let you do the whole thing, and now you don't want to do it?"
"Exactly. I think I should be doing the whole thing myself, not being your backup plan for while you're not here."
"Well, that's what she wants, and since she's the one paying both of us, that's what she gets. I take my clients very seriously."
"Speaking of which, it's ridiculous they are paying you so much for this project."
"Why? It's my work. This is what I do. Shouldn't I be paid to do what I do for a living, just like you're getting paid to teach?"
"It's different."
"No, it's not. This is my job. I didn't offer my services to her. I didn't come up with this idea, pitch it to her, and then demand she hire me. She came up with it. She reached out to me. She knew my fee when we signed the contracts. I'm perfectly happy to offer you an hourly rate for your help. Or a flat fee if you prefer."
The line goes dead.
A few moments later, the phone rings again.
"Yes?"
"Tell your employees I'm sorry I was rude to them."
Chapter Seven
Emma
One month later…
"Happy Homecoming Week!"
I walk out of my mother's house carrying a box of books, and see Judy at the end of the driveway in head-to-toe school colors. Her sunglasses are oversized and sparkling green, and I hope with everything in me the bright purple curls tumbling to her waist are a wig and not extensions she's going to have to live with. I shake my head at her as I walk down the sidewalk toward Mom's pickup truck.
"Homecoming Week doesn't officially start until tomorrow. Besides, I don't think you need to dress up for moving day," I say.
"I don't know," Judy says. "Those letters from the office seem pretty insistent about everybody participating. There's a lot of mandatory stuff happening this week."
I set the box down on the tailgate and shove it into the truck bed.
"There's no school spirit like mandatory school spirit."
"Some of the events sound like they could be fun. I'm looking forward to the party on Friday."
"I just don't know how I'm going to fit anything else into my schedule. Auditions for the spring musical are coming up next week. I'm advising the seniors on their projects, and a few of them are getting ready to audition for colleges. Moving has been more stressful than I expected it to be." I walk back to the house and lug out two suitcases of my clothes. "And, of course, this whole prom thing."
I know I was sworn to secrecy about the prom surprise, but I figured I could tell Judy. She loves the idea of a secret, so I know she's going to be appropriately tight-lipped about it, and if I didn't have someone to talk to about my frustrations, I would explode.
"How is that going?" she asks.
"By the end of it, I am never going to want to look at crepe paper or crinolines ever again. You know, after a while they start looking exactly alike. If I saw a close-up picture of both, I probably wouldn't have any idea which was which."
"I'm not sure I know what either one is."
She follows me to the house and we each pick up another box. The minute I heard a couple living across the street from each other had eloped, putting both their houses up for rent so they could move into the house left to the new husband by his parents, who were moving into the house left to them by his grandparents, I jumped on it. That kind of opportunity doesn't come around here often, and there are rumblings around the village that parents who have multiple children were already eyeing the houses so they could have them at the ready to distribute their flock when they left the nest. If I wanted a place of my own, I needed to act fast. Mom was even more reluctant about me moving than I had expected her to be. I know she's not looking forward to being in the empty house all alone again, but she knows how important it is to me to feel like I'm really on my own, and independent. I honestly don't know how long I'm going to be in Magnolia Falls, and I want to feel like I have a home of my own if it should happen to stretch any further than the end of the school year.
Despite my excitement, Mom had discouraged me from renting one of the houses. She tried to convince me there would be more houses available soon, and that she had heard rumors of an apartment building being built out of one of the large old homes on the other side of the island. Even if that is true, I haven't seen any construction happening, so I can imagine it'll be a while before those apartments are ready. I'm surprised at how reluctant she is. I would have thought she would have been happy I found a house to rent just one street over from her. This way, all I have to do is walk down the street, turn the corner, and I'm back at her house. We can see each other whenever she wants. She's so upset about me moving this weekend, she didn't even take the day off to help me. Over the last few weeks, I've gone through the house, packing up everything I brought with me, everything I've bought in the few weeks I've been back in Magnolia Falls, and a few things I had left behind when I left home. The only conversation she would have with me about moving, when she wasn't trying to discourage me, was offering me more items to bring with me. She said I had to make sure I set up a proper home. I'm not sure how she balances the emotions of disagreeing so adamantly with me moving, and insisting I absolutely cannot survive without a waffle iron. However Mom did it, the result is stacks of boxes, crates, and bags for me to transfer from her house over to my new rental home. I called Judy in to help me, as much for the company as the actual brawn.
"So, what are they?" Judy asks a few minutes later as we drive around the corner to my new house.
I look over at her questioningly.
"What are what?" I ask.
"Crepe paper and crinolines," she says.
"Crinolines are the stiff petticoats girls used to wear under their skirts to make them stand out more. Crepe paper is those things you hang up at parties."
"Streamers?" she asks.
"Yeah," I say.
"Huh," she says as if it's some kind of revelation.
"What?" I ask.
"I always thought people were saying cake paper. You know, like birthday cake, or wedding cake? If you were throwing some sort of events that involved cake, you used cake paper."
"And you've never bought a roll of it?"
Judy shakes her head.
"No," she says. "I'm not a big fan of streamers. There's just something about them."
She shudders, and I shake my head, laughing.
"I don't know about you sometimes, Dame. You're fantastic, but I don't know about you."
"That's alright," she says. "I don't know about me sometimes, either. Speaking of things we don't know about, how are things going with Grant? I haven't heard you complaining about him quite as much lately."
We pull up in front of the house, and I climb out of the truck and head toward the back to start unloading. I let out a sigh as I pick up the first two bags of clothes.
"I mean, it's definitely easier with him not being around. Just having to have phone conferences with him every now and then isn't quite so bad. At least then, when he starts acting like an arrogant jerk, I can just hang up the phone and claim a bad connection later. Or not. I don't really care if he knows I hung up on him."
"Does he act like an arrogant jerk often?"
"Yes," I say. "No."
She glances over at me as we walk up to the front door.
"I'm glad you're so clear about that," she says.
"The thing is, if he was anybody else in the world, I probably wouldn't even question it. I might think he's full of himself, and has a big opinion of himself, but he's actually really good at
what he does. I hate to admit it, but his ideas are amazing, and he's really dedicated to his work. But he still drives me crazy. I can't stand him."
"Why does he still get to you so much?" she asks.
"Every time I look at him, I feel like… less. Does that make sense? Constantly, all the time, Mom talked to me about them, and told me I needed to be careful around them, and that they were different. I know she's always felt that way. My grandparents felt the same way, and I'm sure their parents felt the same way before them. It's two different worlds in their eyes. Two different classes, and the classes aren't supposed to mix. It was fine for me to be friends with Dean, as long as I didn't spend too much time with him, and didn't start getting any ideas about him or his brothers. But developing any kind of feelings for them was just going to end up with me disappointed. She never said that they thought they were better than us, or that they were above us in any way…"
"But she believed it."
I nod, leaning back against the railing around the small front porch.
"I think she did. She was always afraid I was going to get wrapped up in that world, and have to find out I wasn't a part of it. I thought she was being ridiculous. I knew we didn't have the money they did, obviously, and that meant we had to work harder for things in life, but I never really believed in the concept of class. I didn't think it existed. At least, not in the way she did. I didn't think just because someone had money, they would automatically think of themselves as more important than anyone else, or be willing to hurt other people just because they felt they were entitled to. Then that day happened. He dropped me without even a second thought because he had gotten his entertainment, and was ready to move on. Now every time I look at him, or hear his voice, I think about when he came to say goodbye. I remember what it felt like to look at him, and know he was just going to head off into his life, and never think twice about me."
"Why are you so sure about that?"
"He knows how I felt about him. He had to have. I thought I was being discreet, and no one could tell, but looking back, I know it was the most obvious thing in the world. Anybody looking at me when he was anywhere near would be able to tell that I was completely head over heels for him. He told me himself he knew I was standing there watching him sing. He knew he could string me along when it was fun for him, and then seduce me. So he did.