“Good afternoon,” he cried. “Have a great day!”
Kelly smiled at her mailman. “And you too—have a wonderful day,” she said with a smile. The mailman continued his round, stopping next door at Cindy’s home. Kelly took a deep breath of fresh Savannah air and felt the sun on her face before returning inside her cooled home.
The mailman could have had no idea what the letter he had just delivered to Kelly contained. If he had taken the time to inspect the envelope, he would have seen it was postmarked as being mailed from Atlanta. On further inspection he would have noticed the well-known logo, unmistakable the world over, emblazoned on the fold of the envelope. The mailman, though, would never have suspected that his friendly comment, “Have a great day,” was exactly what Kelly Hudd was about to have. In fact, Kelly’s day was about to be greater than any other day she had ever had, and it was all because of the letter she’d just received.
Kelly placed the empty glass she had carried all the way from the den, through the kitchen and hall, to the front door and then back through the den into the kitchen, on the small kitchen table. She placed the envelope at its side and opened the fridge to retrieve the jug of iced tea she had prepared earlier. She poured herself a drink into the well-traveled glass and inspected the envelope now in her hand. Like her mailman, she didn’t notice the postmark but did notice the logo on the envelope. She expected it was some sort of promotional material advertising the company’s well-known product, which she enjoyed in its diet variety. Kelly opened the envelope, after taking a sip of tea, and read the letter that it contained.
At first she thought she had made a mistake, so she read it again. Maybe she had misread it, or maybe she was still asleep on the sofa in the den, and this was a dream. Kelly actually pinched herself, just to make sure she was awake, which, of course, she was. She began to tremble as the reality of what she had just read began to dawn on her, and she put her hand to her mouth as if to stifle a scream.
“Oh, my God,” she said in a hushed whisper. “Oh, my God!” she said again, this time slightly louder. “Oh, my God!” she said for a third time, this time screaming the words. Kelly was bobbing excitedly on her bare feet, and Shmitty began wagging his tale and barked at his mistress’s raised voice. “Oh, yes!” she cried and clenched her hands, raising them in the air as if she had just made the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl. “Yes, yes, yes, and YES!!” she screamed. Shmitty barked again and wagged his tail, and Kelly crouched down and placed her arms around the excited dog’s neck, kissing him on the top of his head. “Oh, Shmitty!” she cried, and the confused dog looked at the bouncing woman in front of him and tilted his head to the right, “I have done it! I have done it! I won! We are going to Paris!” screamed Kelly, and Shmitty barked again.
The letter that had produced so much elation in the young woman was brief and to the point. However, that didn’t really matter. It was the few words that were printed on the single page that counted, and for the heck of it, Kelly read it again:
Dear Mrs. Hudd,
We are delighted to inform you that your recent entry in our “Paris: City of Love” promotional competition was successful. You correctly answered all five questions and sent us the required number of bottle tops from our two-liter product.
You are requested to call Judy Callaghan at the telephone number indicated on the letterhead of this official prize-winning notification. Judy will be pleased to finalize details of your trip to Paris and organize travel and an appropriate hotel. A check for $25,000 is enclosed.
May I take this opportunity to express our heartfelt congratulations.
Yours faithfully,
The letter was signed by an Alistair Hamilton, who, according to the letterhead, was head of promotions and publicity for the Atlanta-based, global-giant, the Coca-Cola Company.
Kelly looked at the check she held in her hand and screamed with delight. Twenty-five thousand dollars! She had never even seen a check written out for that amount before, but to see the check made out to her was even more remarkable. She picked up her cell phone and called Tom, but his phone went straight to voicemail. He must have been out in the fire truck or in a poor reception area, guessed Kelly. Okay, she thought as she sat down at the kitchen table, calm down and concentrate. This needs some serious thought. She dialed the number indicated in the letter, and after three rings Judy Callaghan answered the phone.
Judy, who sounded very nice, thought Kelly, went through the details of the prize Kelly had just won. Kelly had a selection of three dates that were offered for her trip to Paris. The dates were unchangeable; the trip could only be taken on one of the dates offered; and once a date was selected and the hotel informed, Kelly would not be able to alter it. Kelly selected the first option, which was less than a week away. Judy asked Kelly who would be accompanying her on her trip to Paris, and Kelly, without hesitation, announced it would be her husband, Tom. Judy advised Kelly that she was making the necessary arrangements as they spoke, via the Internet, and that the trip, including hotel reservations and flights, was now booked and confirmed for next Thursday.
Kelly and Tom were booked on a flight, first class from Savannah to Paris, through New York, and they needed to be at the airport in Savannah by nine in the morning. They had a luxury suite reserved at the five-star Bonaparte Hotel located in the center of Paris for Thursday night through Monday. They would be departing Paris at six in the afternoon local time for an overnight flight, and were due to arrive back in Savannah sometime Tuesday afternoon; like the trip to Paris, the return would be first class.
The schedule was confirmed, and all relevant tickets were being processed. It was totally unchangeable and nonrefundable, which meant only Tom could accompany Kelly on her trip. Kelly indicated she understood this and that it would not be a problem. All hotel costs would be met, including all meals and room service as well as the use of the spa and other hotel amenities. Furthermore, to be dispatched with the tickets would be traveler’s checks totaling one thousand dollars that they could use as spending money while in Paris. Judy congratulated Kelly and wished her a fantastic trip.
Kelly couldn’t believe her luck! Finally, she had won a major prize! After all the years of entering competitions, she had finally won a prize worth something. She decided then and there that she would make this a trip that Tom would remember forever. Already a plan was forming in her head. Kelly opened the front door to her home, crossed the unfenced front lawn into her neighbor’s garden, and knocked on Cindy Mopper’s front door. Cindy answered with a smile on her face. “I have some great news!” screamed Kelly, a grin covering her own pretty face.
Cindy beckoned Kelly into the house, but Kelly insisted that Cindy come over to her home. She had some beer in the fridge, and the occasion warranted a drink. She had news, and she needed help with a plan she had devised only seconds before. Cindy shut her front door and followed the excited Kelly into her home. The Gordonston Ladies Dog Walking Club had not convened that day because Carla had a doctor’s appointment and Heidi needed to travel into the city for an appointment with her bank manager. It meant that Cindy had plenty of time to indulge her pretty neighbor. Cindy, intrigued by Kelly’s excitement, said she would join her young friend immediately.
“Read this.” Kelly handed Cindy the letter and a bottle of one of Tom’s low-calorie beers from the refrigerator. Cindy read the prize-winning notification letter as Kelly raised another of one of Tom’s bottles to her mouth. After Cindy had read the letter, she herself took a swig of cold beer.
“Well, congratulations. Twenty-five thousand dollars! What are you going to spend it on?” Cindy sounded delighted for her young neighbor and clinked her bottle against Kelly’s.
“Nothing,” said Kelly.
“Nothing?” repeated Cindy.
“I’m going to save it, keep it in my own private account. I’m not even going to tell Tom about it,” said Kelly defiantly as
she took another drink of beer.
“Why ever not?” asked Cindy, surprised by her young neighbor’s announcement.
“I’m going to save it and get myself a modeling portfolio done by a professional photographer. I’m going to use the money to follow my dream. I’m going to try and become a professional model,” explained Kelly triumphantly. “It has to be a sign—I was thinking about it just this morning. It must be fate!”
“Well, good for you, girl,” cried Cindy, and she clinked her bottle against Kelly’s once again. “What about the trip to Paris? It sounds fantastic. When are you going?” Kelly explained that the trip to Paris had been organized and that she and Tom would be departing next Thursday morning. Cindy said she would be more than happy to have Shmitty over with her for the few days the young couple was out of the country and that Paddy would enjoy the company. Kelly then explained to Cindy her plan, which she had concocted just minutes before.
“Do you think that will work? Are you sure he can get the time off work?” Cindy asked, a little worried that maybe Kelly hadn’t really thought through her intended plan, and her voice had a trace of concern in it.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she scoffed. “Tom has plenty of vacation days, and the fire chief has always liked me. Once I explain it to Captain O’Hare, he’ll understand. I’ll pack Tom’s suitcase without his even knowing. It will be the biggest surprise of his life.”
Cindy agreed that Tom would be surprised the following Thursday when told that he wasn’t going to have to go into work, but instead was headed for a five-star, first-class trip to Paris. Maybe Kelly’s idea would work.
“I know my Ronnie, though, hated surprises. I hope you know what you are doing,” said Cindy.
Kelly waved away her neighbor’s concerns and took a swig of the cold beer. Cindy promised she wouldn’t breathe a word of Kelly’s win or trip to anyone, not even her dog walking friends. The last thing Kelly wanted was for Tom to get wind of the surprise she had in store for him.
“So what’s wrong with your friend Carla? Why is she at the doctor’s?” asked Kelly as she led Cindy to the front door of her home.
“You know, I’m not sure,” replied Cindy. “I think it’s probably her age. When women get to her age, it could be anything.” Cindy smiled and Kelly nodded as if she agreed with what Cindy had said. Kelly, though, was a little confused, as Carla was about the same age as Cindy and in truth looked much younger; in fact, when Kelly had first seen Carla, she had mistaken her for an attractive forty-something. Kelly shrugged and watched as Cindy crossed the lawn and disappeared into her home.
As Kelly and Cindy were discussing her health, Carla was just coming out of surgery. The operation had been a success, and the surgeon was pleased with the results. Three-day’s bed rest followed by a couple of days taking it easy, and Carla would be back to normal in no time. As for the procedure, it had gone perfectly and, although expensive, was well worth the price. The plastic surgeon was confident his patient would begin to appreciate her enhanced breasts the moment she awoke from the anesthetic.
Chapter 7
Veronica and Doug stared silently at their half-eaten and now cold dinners. Not that it mattered that their food was cold. They had both lost their appetites anyhow. They both hated arguing, but it was becoming more and more regular. It seemed each week that there was some issue or other that prompted a heated debate and raised voices. The majority of issues stemmed mainly from one thing: money. Veronica tried to ease Doug’s worries, telling him that they were fine and not to worry that his dividends were not paying as much as he had hoped. She tried to reassure him that sooner or later his immigration paperwork would be cleared, and he would be able to find work locally, that companies were always on the lookout for bright and intelligent staff.
Despite Veronica’s reassurances Doug was still worried. He felt bad that his wife had to work the long and hard hours she did at the hospital, while he spent his days playing with and caring for Katie. It wasn’t that he was a chauvinist—it was just that he wanted the best for his family, and with the meager contribution he was making, financially at least, and despite the fact they owned their home outright, he felt like a failure.
“But if you go back to work, that means that I would have to stop working,” argued Veronica, “and if I didn’t stop working, that would mean added childcare costs.”
Doug shook his head in disagreement. “No, it wouldn’t. You could stop working. I can earn enough so you don’t have to work. You know I used to make a lot,” he countered, his voice rising slightly.
“But you’re missing the point,” said Veronica. “We’d be back to square one. You would have to abandon your immigration application and start all over again, and what about Katie?” The two adults turned to face the baby girl playing with her food in her highchair. She enjoyed sitting at the kitchen table with her mom and dad. What she didn’t enjoy was the tense atmosphere. She smiled at her parents and then slung some food toward the kitchen floor. Bern caught it in his mouth before it hit the ground.
“She’s used to you being here now. She needs you. Can’t you see how much you two have bonded? Surely you would miss her. I am not prepared to see you like it was before—once every two or three months, and then no idea when you’ll be back. No. I’m sorry, but I don’t want you going back to work. Not abroad, anyway.” Veronica was adamant, and Doug knew that she was right. But he still couldn’t help feeling dejected and maybe even slightly depressed.
“It’s hard for me here,” he began, scratching his head. “I know it was my decision, but I’m worried. What if we can’t pay bills? What if something happens to you and you can’t work?” Veronica sighed, but Doug continued to speak. “Don’t you see what I’m saying? I think I made a mistake. I think that maybe I should have waited a few more years before retiring. For God’s sake, I’m only thirty-nine. I feel useless.”
“You are not useless—don’t say that,” said Veronica, concerned for her husband. “You’ve done so much already, missed so much. Look, its fine; everything’s okay. I would prefer you home and us poor than you away again and us rich.” She smiled sweetly at her husband.
“Well, that’s all well and good, but how can we survive? College, school, all those things?” asked Doug, a slight hint of desperation in his voice. Veronica touched his hand gently, which led to squeals of delight from Katie.
“Okay, how about this, why don’t you contact your old boss and see if there’s anything you can do over here. Maybe you could open an office in Savannah for them. Remember the conference? Maybe there will be another one this year, and maybe you could see some of your old contacts and friends. Maybe they’ll have something for you.”
Doug smiled but shook his head. “I doubt they would have the conference here again, not after what happened.” Veronica looked puzzled at first, then recalled what had occurred during the conference.
“That poor man,” she said. “Imagine being shot for your watch. What he was doing in that part of downtown still puzzles me. What an idiot.”
Four years previously, during the banking and finance conference that Doug had attended at the Savannah conference center—which had brought him to Savannah in the first place—a conference delegate had been mugged and killed for his expensive watch while he explored the industrial docks near downtown Savannah’s riverfront. The news had been big at the time and had attracted media attention, not just from across the United States but internationally as well. The victim was a high-powered Cayman Islands banker, embroiled in a multimillion dollar lawsuit against former investors who, some claimed, were directly linked to the Russian mafia. His death led to the collapse of the lawsuit and to the Russian mobsters saving millions of dollars. His murder had been high profile, as was the Savannah Police Department’s failure to apprehend his killer or killers. Since then, the banking conference had convened in Chicago, Montreal, and most recently, Las Vegas. D
oug was right, thought Veronica. She doubted they would ever return to Savannah.
“Listen, I don’t want to argue. I hate that, and so does she,” Doug gestured to Katie, who was banging her spoon on her high-chair tray. “I’ll send an email next week, just to let them know I’m still alive and just saying hello. Maybe I’ll mention that if there is anything in the pipeline or on the horizon in the States, then maybe they could consider me.” Doug felt that this was a good compromise; hopefully, his email would remind his former employers that he was available and open to offers.
“Okay,” agreed Veronica, flashing him the same smile that had made him stay in Savannah in the first place. Veronica turned to Katie, “Come on Baby Toots, eat up or we’ll feed it all to Bern!”
Heidi Launer was not enjoying her evening meal. Not that Betty Jenkins had done a bad job in preparing the fried chicken. Betty Jenkins’s fried chicken was famous throughout Savannah, and it was divine. No. It wasn’t the chicken. It was something else that made Heidi move her plate to one side, her food hardly touched.
The old woman stood up from the table, and Fuchsl, who had been lying under his owner’s dining table, rose to his feet at the same time. She had seen the bank manager a few days earlier and had him release funds that were tied up in one of her savings accounts, an amount sufficient for the work she needed. Though she was no expert, she had guessed an approximate cost but would call someone she knew who could confirm the exact amount she would need later. That she had waited all this time for what she intended to do was her own fault. She cursed herself in her native tongue for her delay. Soon, though, it wouldn’t matter; at least now she was ready, and soon she would be able to sleep a little easier.
The Gordonston Ladies Dog Walking Club Page 9