The Hot Fudge Sunday Affair

by Cynthia Blair

  Only jewelry had been a problem. The two girls had such different taste they could find nothing similar. Chris preferred big colorful earrings and bright bangle bracelets, while Susan tended toward more delicate pieces, like fine gold chains and tiny pearls. It was Susan who came up with the solution.

  “All we have to do is remember to switch jewelry whenever we switch places,”

  “What if we forget?” Chris asked nervously.

  Susan thought for a moment. “If anyone ever said anything, all we’d have to do is act like we’d lost it.”

  “I could see losing an earring,” Chris returned after groaning loudly, “but losing two earrings, a bracelet, and a necklace?”

  “To quote one of the famous sneaks of all times”—Susan grinned—”if anything goes wrong, just wing it!”

  Now, as they stood in front of the mirror, just before it was time to leave for the fund-raising ball, even Chris had to admit that the jewelry, all of it Susan’s, completed the outfit. After all, this was a rather formal occasion. The pearl earrings, simple gold bracelet, and heart-shaped locket all helped make the dress look even more special.

  “We both look like queens,” Chris said, looking at their double reflection.

  “Yes, we do.”

  Suddenly Susan got very serious. “You know, Chris, this whole week has been kind of crazy. All this running around and trying so hard to act like each other, and your meeting Jeff and my meeting Eric ... But there’s something I want to say.”

  Chris looked at her twin, surprised by the earnestness of her tone. “What?”

  “That I appreciate your coming up with this nutty idea just so I could share in the fun of being queen of Centennial Week. And putting up with all the problems it’s caused so far. Even agreeing to go through with tonight. I just want you to know that, well, I think you’re the best sister in the whole wide world!” Susan threw her arms around her sister.

  After a few seconds Chris said, “Aw, come on, Sis. Don’t be so mushy. You’re going to wrinkle my dress.” As she moved away, her sister saw that her face was flushed. “To tell you the truth, I’m really afraid my mascara will run. Besides,” she added sheepishly, “you know I think you’re tops, too. Don’t think I don’t know how lucky I am to have you for a twin!”

  Susan gave her sister’s hand one last squeeze. “Well, we’d better get going. Nervous?”

  “Who, me? This is one of the greatest challenges of my career! I couldn’t be more psyched!”

  “Okay, then. Let’s go!”

  Chris had arranged to borrow the family car for the evening. While she was saying good-bye to her parents, Susan slipped into the backseat and crouched below the window.

  “That was easy,” Chris said as she drove out of the driveway, waving to her parents. “So far so good.”

  “My very first ride in a getaway car,” came Susan’s voice from the backseat. “Do I have to stay down here the whole ride?”

  “It’s safer that way. We don’t want anyone to see us. Besides, it’s only a few blocks. We’ll be there before you know it.”

  “I hope so. I’m getting red marks on my knees. Hey, look! Here’s that earring I lost a couple of months ago! Gee, I looked everywhere for it! See? This is already turning out to have been a good idea.”

  As they drove into the driveway of Mayor Harris’s house, Chris began to ooh and ahh.

  “What? What is it, Chris? Oh, darn it! I’m missing everything!”

  “Oh, it’s so beautiful, Sooz! They’ve got tiny white lights strung over the backyard and paper lanterns in all colors ... and there’s even an orchestra over there! This is so exciting!”

  “I want to see!”

  “No! Stay down! There are lots of people around. You’ll see it all soon enough!”

  “Chris, if there are people around, how am I going to sneak into the house?”

  “Oh, dear. I don’t know.... Wait, I just had an idea. I’ll go inside first. Wait five minutes or so and then just walk into the house, as if you were me. I’ll be in the backyard somewhere.”

  “And if anyone notices me?”

  “The cover story will be that I left something in the car and went back to get it. Try not to talk to anybody, but if you get stuck, just pretend you’re me. I’ll come up and find you the moment things get uncomfortable. Okay?”

  “Okay. Hey, Chris?”

  “Yes?”

  “I have a feeling this is going to be a long evening!”

  The first phase of their plan proceeded smoothly. Chris went inside, making certain to move away from the front door, into the backyard, as quickly as she could. She searched the crowd that had already gathered, looking for Jeff.

  Shortly afterward, Susan walked inside with as much confidence as her twin and stole upstairs. She peeked behind each door on the long hallway at the top of the stairs. The first room looked as if it belonged to the mayor and his wife. The second appeared to be one of his daughters’ bedrooms. Then she came across a sparsely decorated room that had to be a guest room. It seemed like a safe place to hide out. It even had a comfortable chair in one corner. It was far away enough from the door so that anyone peeking in would never even notice that someone was in1 the room. Yet it was close enough to the window so that she could see the festivities down below.

  It all looked so wonderful! From the second floor the white lights looked magical, like strings of stars that had lowered themselves into the mayor’s backyard so that they, too, could watch. The yard was already filled with people, all of them dressed to the hilt. Men in dark suits or white dinner jackets, women in fancy dresses, many of them floor-length, in every color of the rainbow. A huge dance floor had been built over by the pool, and the small orchestra played, their music floating up to the sky like balloons.

  Susan watched, mesmerized. She couldn’t wait to go down there, to be a part of all that! But for the moment, she would simply have to wait. She settled back in her chair, her eyes glued to the window as if it were a television screen.

  Chris, meanwhile, was at least as appreciative of the elegance of this affair. She wandered around the backyard, admiring the beautiful clothes the guests were wearing, taking in the romantic surroundings, noticing uniformed waiters who bowed slightly as they distributed punch and champagne and tiny hors d’oeuvres. No matter how this evening turned out, she knew already that it was one she would remember for the rest of her life. How wonderful to be a part of all this, to belong in such a storybook setting. It was like a fantasy come true.

  Jeff, too, looked impressed. As soon as he and Chris spotted each other, he came over.

  “Some party, huh? Not bad for a small town like Whittington!”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. Oh, Jeff, I wish this evening could go on forever!” Then she remembered what still lay ahead. “Actually, it might end up feeling that way. Jeff, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  “Uh-oh. Don’t tell me you’re not really Chris. Again.”

  “No, I’m Chris. But I won’t be for long. I’d better explain what we’ve got going this evening.” She took him aside to make certain no one could hear.

  It was while she was filling Jeff in that Felicia Harris spotted them. She immediately came rushing over, looking as if she had been waiting for their arrival all evening.

  “There you are! Our guests of honor! Well, two of them, anyway. Tonight this party is packed with guests of honor.” She was wearing her hair up, an elaborate maze of French braids fastened around her head. In her lavender dress and high heels, which looked as if they were just a bit too high for her, Chris had to admit that she looked lovely. But this time knowing that didn’t make Chris feel any less pretty. Tonight she was too excited to let anything get in her way.

  “Hi, Felicia. You look really great tonight.”

  “Why, thank you! You look rather ... nice yourself. But enough idle chitchat! Charles Applegate just got here, and I’m dying for you two to meet!”

  “Felicia, C
hris and I just got here, too,” said Jeff. “We haven’t had a chance to grab a glass of punch yet!”

  “You can eat later. Meeting and greeting is what tonight is all about. You’ve got to mingle, not act like little wallflowers. Come, he’s right over here. I’ll introduce you.”

  Jeff looked at Chris questioningly. He knew that the town’s resident artist was the one person she wanted to avoid. But she looked quite calm.

  “That’s so sweet of you, Felicia. But first let me just run upstairs and comb my hair. I don’t want to meet Charles Applegate with messy hair. I’m sure it needs fixing ... right?”

  Felicia scrutinized her hair coolly. Although it looked fine, she couldn’t resist saying, “Yes, you’re right. You’d better fix yourself up a bit before you start mingling.”

  “Be right back!” Chris slipped back into the house quickly. That had been easy enough! Now, if things would only continue just as smoothly for the rest of the evening ...

  “Sooz? Sooz?” Chris poked her head into every doorway on the second floor, whispering her sister’s name. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before she found her, lounging in a big overstuffed chair, gazing dreamily out the window.

  “Chris! Is that you? So soon?”

  “It’s your turn to go downstairs. Felicia cornered me first thing. Charles Applegate just got here, and she’s just about to introduce us. I told her I was going to fix my hair first.”

  “Okay. I’m ready. How do I look?”

  “Great. Oh, and Jeff is there, waiting for you. I just told him about our plan for the evening. He took it rather well, actually.”

  “Great. Okay, then, here I go!”

  “Sooz!”

  “What?”

  “The jewelry! Don’t forget the jewelry!”

  “Oops. Good thing you’re more alert than I am.” Quickly Chris unfastened the bracelet, ear,-rings, and locket. Just as quickly, Susan put them on.

  “Now you’re ready. Go get ‘em, Sis!”

  By the time Susan-as-Chris joined Jeff and Felicia, she was poised and relaxed. “Now I’m ready,” she said, exchanging knowing looks with Jeff. “Lead me to Charles Applegate.”

  Once Felicia located the elderly man, standing apart from the rest of the crowd, she introduced them immediately.

  “Charles Applegate, I’d like you to meet the honorary king and queen of Centennial Week, Jeff Miller and Christine Pratt. Chris here is a fledgling artist herself. She’s been dying to meet you so that the two of you could talk about art together. It really is her passion. Here, why don’t you both move over a bit so some of the others can listen in on your discussion? I’m sure it will be fascinating!”

  “So you’re interested in art, are you?” Charles Applegate said jovially. “Do you paint, or are you just an appreciator?”

  “Oh, no. I love to paint.”

  “What exactly do you paint, Chris?” Felicia asked loudly. Her tone captured the attention of several people standing nearby.

  “Actually, I try to maintain a broad range. Everything from still lifes to portraits to landscapes. I hope to take a life class at the Adult Education Center next fall.”

  Felicia’s jaw dropped open.

  “What exactly is a life class?” Jeff asked casually. His eyes, however, were fixed on Felicia. He was enjoying her reaction immensely.

  “It’s a special kind of art class that concentrates on drawing live models. It’s quite difficult but one of the very best ways of learning.”

  “I agree totally,” chimed in Charles Applegate. “I’ve always been convinced that that was where I got my best training. What medium do you prefer, Chris?”

  “Right now I’m doing a lot with watercolor. Gouache, especially. But I’ve tried my hand at oils, and I love acrylics. The colors are so brilliant! It’s so much easier than mixing your own. And of course I’ve experimented with multimedia ...”

  Felicia was dumbfounded. And when she overheard two of the people who had been listening marveling over Chris Pratt’s versatility and knowledge, Jeff thought she was going to burst.

  “Gee, I guess Chris knows more about art than any of us ever suspected,” he said with a triumphant grin.

  Felicia was too busy fuming to answer. She watched as Charles Applegate offered Chris some punch, then suggested they go off in search of some refreshments together.

  “Tell me, what do you think of all those new

  styles?” he was asking as he led her away from the others. “The ones that are just being developed now?”

  “Oh, you must mean the neo-expressionists.”

  “You just wait, Christine Pratt,” Felicia said under her breath. “The evening has just begun. Especially for you!”

  For the next hour or so, Susan had the time of her life. Once she and Charles Applegate had established their friendship, even making plans to get together again some time so they could talk more and even show each other their work, she was off on her own. With her king at her side, Queen Chris met dozens of new people. She chatted with them all, enjoying every minute, feeling perfectly comfortable. And then she danced under the colorful paper lanterns until her feet hurt. When Eric unexpectedly cut in on one of her dancing partners, she began to wonder if she was actually dreaming.

  “Hi, there. How’s it going so far?”

  “Super! And all of a sudden, it’s even better. When did you get here?”

  “Just now. I’m afraid I got a bit bogged down in some last-minute research. For tomorrow’s article. It’s just about done, although I’ll have to rush back to the office just before midnight to make sure everything’s in order.”

  “Ah, yes. The article. I’d forgotten all about that.” For the moment even that intruding thought couldn’t spoil her evening. Instead, Susan relaxed and let Eric whirl her around the dance floor.

  Just when things seemed to be totally perfect, she heard Felicia’s voice once again.

  “There you are, Chris! Why don’t you and Eric sit this one out? I’ve got someone else I’d like you to meet!”

  Susan gulped. She had a feeling that the woman standing at Felicia’s side was none other than Edna Partridge, historian for the town of Whittington. It was time to make another switch.

  She thought fast. Fortunately, the excitement of the evening had given her incredible presence of mind. “I’ll be right there, Felicia!” she called gaily.

  And then, a second later, she crumpled to the ground with a loud “Ouch! My ankle!”

  Instantly a crowd gathered around her, gasping and murmuring, “What happened? Are you all right?”

  Eric, his face twisted with concern, helped her stand up. “You okay? Did I step on your feet?”

  “No, no. My ankle just gave way all of a sudden. I’m fine, really.” She pretended to hobble around, testing it. “It’s all right. If I could just put something cold on it for a minute ...”

  “I’ll get some ice,” Eric volunteered.

  “Oh, no! I ...”

  “Here, let me help.” Jeff suddenly appeared from out of nowhere. “That kind of thing happens to me all the time. Playing football, I mean. What you need is to take the weight off it. Come on, Chris. I’ll help you upstairs. You can lie down for a few minutes.”

  Gratefully Susan leaned on Jeff as he helped her toward the house, leaving behind a crowd of sympathetic onlookers.

  “Good work!” he whispered.

  “I never could have pulled it off without you!” she returned gleefully.

  The two of them were so wrapped up in basking in their momentary triumph that they never noticed they were being followed.

  “I’ll just make sure she doesn’t need anything,” Felicia said offhandedly to no one in particular. And she went into the house after them.

  But she stayed behind, ducking into a doorway on the second floor once she saw them opening into the guest room.

  “Susan! What happened?” she heard a familiar voice gasp just before the door was closed.

  So, Felicia thought, sl
ipping away without a sound, they’re at it again, are they? Well, this time they’re not going to get away with it. I intend to make sure of that personally!

  When Chris returned to the party, still on Jeff’s arm, her limp had almost vanished. Felicia was disappointed that few people seemed to notice her miraculous recovery. And those who did were pleased that it had turned out to be nothing after all. But she quickly rounded up Edna Partridge once again, determined to pick up where they’d left off. Even though she now knew that her efforts to show up Chris Pratt in public were all in vain. Those twins had managed to outsmart her once again, and she had to figure out a different way to expose them.

  Sure enough, Chris spent a pleasant, confident half hour discussing Whittington’s history with the town historian. This time a much larger crowd gathered to listen—and to comment on how impressed they were with the queen of Centennial Week. Felicia watched the whole scene, furious. But her mind was working away. Finally she had an idea. A smile crept over her face slowly.

  Yes, she thought, beginning to feel better already, there is a way to expose what the twins are doing. And they’ve unwittingly laid their own trap.

  After Edna Partridge had drifted away, promising to invite Chris over to her house for more such stimulating discussions in the future, Felicia pounced on her once again.

  “Chris, dinner is about to be served. But I wanted you to know that I’ve arranged to have you sit next to Charles Applegate. After all,” she added sweetly, “you two seemed to get along so well.”

  “Thanks for letting me know, Felicia.” Then Chris added quickly, “I mean, so I’ll know where I’m supposed to sit.”

  Just as she had expected, Chris immediately made some excuse to the people around her and started toward the house. Felicia went to work quickly. She pushed through the crowd, her heart pounding, her mind racing. She had to find them all, in a hurry. Where had Edna Partridge gone? Ah, there she was. And there was Charles Applegate ... and as luck would have it, he was talking to her father. Now if she could only find Eric...

  “Sooz, it’s just me.” Chris slipped inside the guest room again.