won’t be necessary,” said Ted, consulting his calendar. “Now, there’s a finance committee meeting this week, also planning board, and historical commission. I’ll let you off easy, Lucy. You can have the planning board, and I’ll take the others.”
“Oh, thanks,” said Lucy, anticipating a boring evening. At least Bar and Tina were bound to be interesting.
Setting up a meeting was no problem. As it happened, gushed Tina, the two were planning to meet that very afternoon, at her house. They’d be thrilled if Lucy would join them.
Lucy wasn’t exactly thrilled, but she was curious when she arrived at Tina’s ecologically designed “green” house, with its grass-covered roof and solar panels. She was standing on the front stoop, looking up at the waving sea of green, when Bar joined her.
“Amazing what some people will do, isn’t it?” she asked, jabbing the doorbell with her trigger finger. She had apparently come straight from the shooting range and was still wearing her ammo vest over stretchy beige pants and turtleneck. She must have been wearing ear protectors, but they hadn’t disturbed her hair, which sat on her head like a blond helmet.
“Come in, come in,” sang Tina, opening the door for them. “I’ve got mochaccinos for everyone.”
“Just water for me,” said Bar as they trooped down the hall to the kitchen.
“I’d love a mochaccino,” said Lucy, trying to get a peek at the living and dining rooms as she followed the others, but only getting a glimpse of kilim rugs and plant-filled windows. The kitchen was enormous, with a natural wood floor, polished concrete countertops and open shelving, instead of cabinets, that displayed a large collection of hand-thrown pottery. There were no windows in this part of the house, which was underground, but lighting created a warm, cozy feeling.
Lucy and Bar climbed onto stools at the center island, and Tina set their drinks in front of them. “Anything else I can get you ladies?”
Bar took a sip of water and grimaced. “Don’t you have bottled water? I can’t abide this stuff from the tap.”
“I stopped buying it, and you should, too,” lectured Tina. “The bottles are becoming a problem, filling up landfills….”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Bar, pushing the glass away.
“This is delicious,” said Lucy, taking a sip of her frothy drink. “So, tell me about the party.”
“Well,” began Bar, “I’m sure you’re aware that there have been some tragic auto accidents following area high school proms in recent years.”
“Not to mention other risky behaviors,” added Tina.
“So last year a group of parents decided to do something about it,” said Bar. “We formed a committee and put on an after-prom party. Some of us were doubtful it would attract the kids, but we threw in some really attractive prizes, like skateboards, iPods, even a brand-new used car donated by the Ford dealership, and it turned out to be quite a success.”
“You said ‘brand-new used car,’” said Tina, pointedly. “That’s an oxymoron.”
Lucy wondered if things were going to start to get ugly, but Bar just smiled condescendingly. “You know what I meant,” she said, with a shrug.
Tina wasn’t satisfied. “No. I don’t know what a brand-new used car is, and nobody else does, either.”
Lucy jumped in, eager to avoid another confrontation. She could sense the animosity the two women had for each other and was beginning to feel rather tense. “I’ll just put in used car,” she said. “What are the prizes this year?”
“They’re fantastic. A trip to Cancún for spring break, ski-lift tickets, a Jet Ski, mountain bikes…It goes on and on,” said Tina, handing her a list.
“Nobody leaves without prizes,” said Bar. “They all get goodie bags with fast-food coupons, all sorts of cute stuff.”
“I really think those coupons are a bad idea,” said Tina. “It would be better to give them wholesome energy bars, or
“Oh, thanks,” said Lucy, anticipating a boring evening. At least Bar and Tina were bound to be interesting.
Setting up a meeting was no problem. As it happened, gushed Tina, the two were planning to meet that very afternoon, at her house. They’d be thrilled if Lucy would join them.
Lucy wasn’t exactly thrilled, but she was curious when she arrived at Tina’s ecologically designed “green” house, with its grass-covered roof and solar panels. She was standing on the front stoop, looking up at the waving sea of green, when Bar joined her.
“Amazing what some people will do, isn’t it?” she asked, jabbing the doorbell with her trigger finger. She had apparently come straight from the shooting range and was still wearing her ammo vest over stretchy beige pants and turtleneck. She must have been wearing ear protectors, but they hadn’t disturbed her hair, which sat on her head like a blond helmet.
“Come in, come in,” sang Tina, opening the door for them. “I’ve got mochaccinos for everyone.”
“Just water for me,” said Bar as they trooped down the hall to the kitchen.
“I’d love a mochaccino,” said Lucy, trying to get a peek at the living and dining rooms as she followed the others, but only getting a glimpse of kilim rugs and plant-filled windows. The kitchen was enormous, with a natural wood floor, polished concrete countertops and open shelving, instead of cabinets, that displayed a large collection of hand-thrown pottery. There were no windows in this part of the house, which was underground, but lighting created a warm, cozy feeling.
Lucy and Bar climbed onto stools at the center island, and Tina set their drinks in front of them. “Anything else I can get you ladies?”
Bar took a sip of water and grimaced. “Don’t you have bottled water? I can’t abide this stuff from the tap.”
“I stopped buying it, and you should, too,” lectured Tina. “The bottles are becoming a problem, filling up landfills….”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Bar, pushing the glass away.
“This is delicious,” said Lucy, taking a sip of her frothy drink. “So, tell me about the party.”
“Well,” began Bar, “I’m sure you’re aware that there have been some tragic auto accidents following area high school proms in recent years.”
“Not to mention other risky behaviors,” added Tina.
“So last year a group of parents decided to do something about it,” said Bar. “We formed a committee and put on an after-prom party. Some of us were doubtful it would attract the kids, but we threw in some really attractive prizes, like skateboards, iPods, even a brand-new used car donated by the Ford dealership, and it turned out to be quite a success.”
“You said ‘brand-new used car,’” said Tina, pointedly. “That’s an oxymoron.”
Lucy wondered if things were going to start to get ugly, but Bar just smiled condescendingly. “You know what I meant,” she said, with a shrug.
Tina wasn’t satisfied. “No. I don’t know what a brand-new used car is, and nobody else does, either.”
Lucy jumped in, eager to avoid another confrontation. She could sense the animosity the two women had for each other and was beginning to feel rather tense. “I’ll just put in used car,” she said. “What are the prizes this year?”
“They’re fantastic. A trip to Cancún for spring break, ski-lift tickets, a Jet Ski, mountain bikes…It goes on and on,” said Tina, handing her a list.
“Nobody leaves without prizes,” said Bar. “They all get goodie bags with fast-food coupons, all sorts of cute stuff.”
“I really think those coupons are a bad idea,” said Tina. “It would be better to give them wholesome energy bars, or
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