challenge of doing something well enough to be paid.“ He leaned back from the table. “Now, darlin’, what’s for dessert?“
Ten
Bright and early Monday morning, Shelley was at Jane’s door. “Let’s fortify ourselves with a good breakfast and then tackle Bitsy.“
“You’re doing the tackling, right? I’m just the cheering section. I hope.“
“I’ll be happy to carry it out, but you have to read my version of the contract first, so you’ll know when to cheer.“
“Is it really good?“
Shelley pulled herself up into a pillar of indignation. “Of course.“
“I really should call Mel first. He left four messages on my phone over the weekend, explaining that he was finishing up the paperwork on a big case and asking me to call him back. But I was so busy, and the times I did call, he was away from his desk. What a romance. Phone tag only. We’re both afraid to leave a sexy message for fear someone else will hear it first.“
“Busy with what?“ Shelley demanded, ignoring Jane’s reply.
“Buying computers.“
“Plural?“
“One for me and one for Todd.“
“Explain this to me on the way. I want your full attention on the contract while we eat. You need to drive. My van is making a funny noise.“
Jane was astonished. “You’d ride in my disreputable station wagon? I’d have cleaned it out if I’d known.“
“No, you wouldn’t have. But I don’t care. Just as long as there’s somewhere to sit where there aren’t bags of birdseed, dry cleaning, or school papers.“
Jane explained how she’d spent the weekend. Shelley, flipping through the contract one last time, paid very little attention except to mutter, “Good for you, Jane.“
When they reached the restaurant, Shelley said, “Let me order for both of us. I know what you always get. Start reading.“
Jane had known Shelley most of her adult life and knew when it was possible to object to her bossiness. This wasn’t one of those times.
She applied herself as diligently as she could and hoped she could finish before they were through eating so Shelley could pay their bill while she tried once again to reach Mel.
It wasn’t to be. Shelley finished eating first, continually warning Jane not to spill anything on the contract.
“What would it matter?“ Jane said, slightly snippily. “You can always print out a fresh one.“
“I want to show Bitsy what a well-done, well-presented contract should look like without sticky bun icing smeared on it. And I don’t want to go back home to print a new one. Aren’t you through yet?“
“With the contract or my breakfast?“
“Both.“
Jane sighed, looking longingly at her now-cold second waffle. “I guess I am. Let’s go.“
When they’d almost reached the construction site, Jane asked, “Do you think they got rid of the smell? I don’t want to go in if they haven’t.“
“We’ll see. I’m determined to get Bitsy away from Sandra anyway. We might just ask her to come outside to talk.“
“Are you going to make her read the contract right there in front of you?“
“No. That would be tacky.“
“It wasn’t tacky when you did it to me,“ Jane said, showing off, as she spoke, how well she could parallel-park on a busy street.
“I’ll give her the contract, pointing out, naturally, how unprofessional hers was. I’ll bet you anything Sandra drew it up. Anyway, I’m men going to rat on Sandra about the measured drawings. Just so you know what to expect.“
They found Sandra and Bitsy in the end of the upstairs part of the house that was being completed first. Everybody was relieved that the horrible odor was gone. Today two people were starting the Sheetrock. One was obviously a real, genuine male. Everyone watched as he picked up an eight-by-four-foot sheet as if it were no heavier than a piece of paper and heaved it precisely into place.
He turned around and Bitsy said, “Ladies, meet Carl Stringfield. Isn’t he a wonder?“
“He is,“ Jane and
Ten
Bright and early Monday morning, Shelley was at Jane’s door. “Let’s fortify ourselves with a good breakfast and then tackle Bitsy.“
“You’re doing the tackling, right? I’m just the cheering section. I hope.“
“I’ll be happy to carry it out, but you have to read my version of the contract first, so you’ll know when to cheer.“
“Is it really good?“
Shelley pulled herself up into a pillar of indignation. “Of course.“
“I really should call Mel first. He left four messages on my phone over the weekend, explaining that he was finishing up the paperwork on a big case and asking me to call him back. But I was so busy, and the times I did call, he was away from his desk. What a romance. Phone tag only. We’re both afraid to leave a sexy message for fear someone else will hear it first.“
“Busy with what?“ Shelley demanded, ignoring Jane’s reply.
“Buying computers.“
“Plural?“
“One for me and one for Todd.“
“Explain this to me on the way. I want your full attention on the contract while we eat. You need to drive. My van is making a funny noise.“
Jane was astonished. “You’d ride in my disreputable station wagon? I’d have cleaned it out if I’d known.“
“No, you wouldn’t have. But I don’t care. Just as long as there’s somewhere to sit where there aren’t bags of birdseed, dry cleaning, or school papers.“
Jane explained how she’d spent the weekend. Shelley, flipping through the contract one last time, paid very little attention except to mutter, “Good for you, Jane.“
When they reached the restaurant, Shelley said, “Let me order for both of us. I know what you always get. Start reading.“
Jane had known Shelley most of her adult life and knew when it was possible to object to her bossiness. This wasn’t one of those times.
She applied herself as diligently as she could and hoped she could finish before they were through eating so Shelley could pay their bill while she tried once again to reach Mel.
It wasn’t to be. Shelley finished eating first, continually warning Jane not to spill anything on the contract.
“What would it matter?“ Jane said, slightly snippily. “You can always print out a fresh one.“
“I want to show Bitsy what a well-done, well-presented contract should look like without sticky bun icing smeared on it. And I don’t want to go back home to print a new one. Aren’t you through yet?“
“With the contract or my breakfast?“
“Both.“
Jane sighed, looking longingly at her now-cold second waffle. “I guess I am. Let’s go.“
When they’d almost reached the construction site, Jane asked, “Do you think they got rid of the smell? I don’t want to go in if they haven’t.“
“We’ll see. I’m determined to get Bitsy away from Sandra anyway. We might just ask her to come outside to talk.“
“Are you going to make her read the contract right there in front of you?“
“No. That would be tacky.“
“It wasn’t tacky when you did it to me,“ Jane said, showing off, as she spoke, how well she could parallel-park on a busy street.
“I’ll give her the contract, pointing out, naturally, how unprofessional hers was. I’ll bet you anything Sandra drew it up. Anyway, I’m men going to rat on Sandra about the measured drawings. Just so you know what to expect.“
They found Sandra and Bitsy in the end of the upstairs part of the house that was being completed first. Everybody was relieved that the horrible odor was gone. Today two people were starting the Sheetrock. One was obviously a real, genuine male. Everyone watched as he picked up an eight-by-four-foot sheet as if it were no heavier than a piece of paper and heaved it precisely into place.
He turned around and Bitsy said, “Ladies, meet Carl Stringfield. Isn’t he a wonder?“
“He is,“ Jane and
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