Mixed Reality (Indigo Love Spectrum), page 7
“That’s right. The good news is Congressman Richards likes you and would probably back your appointment.”
“That’s good news. It doesn’t hurt to have the Chairman of the Committee on Ways and Means, Chairman of the Board of the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee, and Dean of the New York State Congressional Delegation on my side.”
“I know, but we’re going to have to be extra careful. We don’t want to give them anything to run with.”
“I’m not new to this game, Ki. I’m ready. My life is an open book.”
* * *
Dressed and ready for her appointment with Sheri, Elle quietly enjoyed a cup of coffee in the kitchen. She put her hospital business on the back burner so she could concentrate on fashion, not in a department store dressing room but in the comfort of her own home.
The phone rang. She picked up. “Hello?”
“Elle?”
Elle’s mother, sixty-four-year-old Lynette Abbott-Williams, was known as the ‘mouth from the South’. An attractive, trim woman with silver hair, she managed to remain wrinkle free in spite of her thirty-plus years in teaching. Her retirement was filled with travel, gardening, HGTV and Home Depot. Elle knew she and her husband Abe were in the midst of one of her many household projects. So she was genuinely surprised to hear from her.
“Hi, Mom. Is anything up?”
“Does something have to be up for me to call?”
“No. I just know you’ve been busy working on your kitchen.”
“We’re still working. Abe just ran to Home Depot to get another wrench.”
“They haven’t given you a personalized parking space yet?” Elle joked.
“Very funny, young lady. No, they have not. We’re not there that much.”
“Mom, you’re at Home Depot at least three times a week. I know contractors who spend less time there.”
“That’s what happens when you have an old house. It requires a lot of work and upkeep.”
“I know, Mom, but you wouldn’t have to work so hard if you scaled down a little with a condo.”
“A condo?” she scoffed. “You mean one of those New York City condos on the fifteenth floor and up? No thank you. I don’t care if it has a doorman and gold elevators, it’s still a birdhouse in the sky.”
“Okay, Mom, point taken.” Elle laughed in spite of herself. “They do have two-story condos on Long Island with manicured grounds and a maintenance crew to shovel snow, mow the grass and fix the plumbing.”
“That last one is tempting, but I didn’t call to talk about my plumbing issues. I wanted to let you know that we’ll be there for Thanksgiving.”
“Great.” Wait for it, Elle thought as she held her breath.
“Is your father coming?”
And there’s the other shoe. “Yes. Are you going to be nice, Mom?”
“I’m always polite.”
“So you’re going to speak to Dad first if he’s here before you.”
“What do you mean? I always speak.”
“No, you don’t. Dad always has to speak to you first.”
“That’s only proper etiquette,” she insisted.
“Not when you walk into a room and he’s already there.”
“Where did you read that? Emily Post?”
“No. You told me.”
“Fine, I’ll be on my best behavior. Is he bringing anyone?”
Divorced or not, Elle knew that was a loaded question. Unlike her mother, who remarried a few years after the divorce, her father, Victor, preferred the life of a reconfirmed bachelor.
“I told him he could bring someone. Whether or not he’s going to, I don’t know.”
“I just want to make sure we’re not seated together.”
Elle shook her head. “Don’t worry, Mom. There will be plenty of tables.”
“Good. By the way, why aren’t you at work?”
“I’m working from home today. I have someone coming this morning. In fact, she should be here shortly.”
“All right, I’ll let you go. If I don’t speak to you I will definitely see you soon.”
“Okay, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” She hung up.
I should really consider becoming an air traffic controller. Goodness knows I’ve got experience. Elle sighed as she picked up her mug. A moment later the doorbell rang.
Elle looked at the clock. It’s not ten o’clock yet.
She heard Frieda go to the door. A minute later Rory walked in.
“Hey there, gorgeous. I was in the neighborhood.”
“Are you playing hooky, Dr. Brennan?” Elle asked jokingly.
“Maybe I am. Are you playing hooky, Dr. Brennan?”
“Now you sound like my mother.”
“Sorry. Was that a loaded question?”
“No. My stylist is coming so I’m working from home today. Have a seat,” Elle said, pointing to a chair.
“Thanks,” Rory said and sat down.
Elle got up and poured him a cup of coffee. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He sipped it. “So what time will your style guru be here?”
“She and her band of elves will be here in about thirty minutes.”
“I can be gone by then if you’d like. I know how you are about trying on clothes.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, you don’t have to leave. Besides I’m only weird about trying on clothes because the designer boutiques don’t carry my size and I end up feeling like a hippo in a sea of gazelles.”
“How is that possible? You own every room you walk into. You have style and grace most size twos wish they did.”
“I seem that confident to you?”
“Yes.”
She chuckled. Despite being raised by a weight-conscious mother, Elle never thought about her size growing up until Doug got into politics. She was okay with being a big girl. The numbers geek in her had done the math. At five feet, nine inches she wasn’t supposed to weigh 115 pounds; it just didn’t compute.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” She smiled. “Thanks for the compliment.”
“You’re welcome.”
Elle studied him more closely. “Rory, aren’t those the clothes you wore yesterday?”
He looked down and closed his jacket. “It appears so.”
“You didn’t go home last night?”
“No. I went to a friend’s place for a few drinks. To make a long story short I wasn’t in any condition to travel so I stayed over.”
“Oh. Am I a part of your alibi?”
“I don’t need an alibi. I can assure you Angela wasn’t worried. I spend more nights sleeping in my office than I do at home.”
Elle stared at him for a minute.
“What’s wrong?” he asked self-consciously.
“Did you use your friend’s razor or something?”
“Why?”
“It looks like you nicked yourself just above your collar.” She pointed.
“Oh.” He rubbed his neck.
“Doug has something for that in the bathroom. You should put some on.”
“Thanks, but I’m sure I have something for it at my office. I am a doctor. ”
“That’s true.” She sipped her coffee.
Just then Sheri entered the kitchen.
Elle was a little startled. “Hey, Sheri. I didn’t hear the doorbell.”
“That’s because Frieda opened the door before I could press the bell.”
“Well it’s good to see you,” Elle said as she turned to Rory. “Sheri Cole, this is my brother-in law, Dr. Rory Brennan.”
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Brennan.” They shook hands.
“Same here.”
“So what goodies do you have for me?”
“You’ll see. Is it okay if I wave my assistants in?”
“Please do,” Elle said gleefully.
She and Rory followed Sheri to the front door and watched as three assistants brought armfuls of clothes in.
“You know the drill, guys. Head upstairs and to the left,” Sheri directed. Once the last assistant made it upstairs they went up to the master bedroom’s walk-in closet.
“The clothes have been divided into four sections; casual, work, semiformal and formal. Naturally I included a cross-section of plus-size designers,” Sheri explained.
“Wow, Elle, this is something,” Rory said.
“Sheri’s the best.”
“Now you told me you needed options for Thanksgiving.” She removed two dresses from the racks.
Elle looked them over. “They’re pretty.”
“I know you’re not crazy about trying things on, but I’d really like to see how they look on you.” Sheri waved the dresses in front of her.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Elle hesitated.
“Go ahead, Elle, try them on for her. You’re the only gazelle here.” Rory smiled.
“Okay, which one do you want me to try on first?”
“Try on the plum dress first.” She handed her both hangers.
“Okay.” Elle went into the bathroom with them.
“Thank you, Dr. Brennan. She usually never wants to try anything on for me.”
“You’re welcome.” Rory smiled.
“I don’t think she realizes she’s got a great shape.”
“Yes, she does.” Rory caught himself. “Elle doesn’t know how pretty she is.”
“You’re right.” She paused. “Would you excuse me for a minute?”
“Certainly.”
Sheri knocked on the door. “Elle?”
“Yes?” she answered.
“Did you have a chance to go through the casual look book I put together for you?”
“Yes.”
“What did you think? Did anything catch your attention?”
“Everything looked great.” She paused. “There was one look that got my attention.”
“Oh, which one?” Sheri seemed excited.
“It was the picture of the spice woman who’s married to the soccer player.”
Sheri giggled. “You’re talking about Posh Spice. She’s married to David Beckham.”
“Right. Is she trying to look like a praying mantis in high heels, big sunglasses and a little skirt?”
Rory let out a guffaw.
“I’m sure that wasn’t the look she was going for, Elle.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t trying to be snide. I just know that designers and fashionistas are inspired by a lot of different things. So I thought perhaps she was inspired by a praying mantis. They are long and elegant in a weird bug-like way.”
“Well, fashion people find inspiration in a lot of different things. But the question is did you like the skirt?”
“The skirt was cute. It was just a little too short, and I am a woman of a certain age. Besides, I’ve learned it’s in my best interests not to bring too much attention to my butt.”
Sheri had worked with Elle long enough to know that was code for she didn’t like it or any of the other looks. “I got you,” Sheri answered. “I’ll bring you another look book.”
“Thank you.” She paused. “Here I come.” Elle walked out and over to the mirror. “I love the color.”
Sheri walked up behind her. “I do, too. It’s the Camilla wrap dress by IGIGI,” Sheri said as she gazed at Elle’s reflection in the mirror.
“What do you think, Rory? Is this too much for the church’s soup kitchen?”
“No. You look great.” He downplayed just how good she looked to him.
“Good. Now for the other dress and I’m done.” She went back to the bathroom.
Rory turned to Sheri. “You’ve got a great eye. I see why you do this for a living.”
“Thank you.”
A few moments later Elle emerged from the bathroom in a body-conscious black dress that hugged all of her in just the right places. Rory struggled to keep his jaw off the floor.
“I may not know much about fashion, but this feels very Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s to me,” Elle said with a grin.
“Audrey Hepburn wished she could have filled out a dress like you,” Sheri said. “Go look in the mirror.”
Elle looked at her reflection. “What do you think about this one, Rory?”
He gulped. “You look good. You look very good.”
Elle grinned. “It’s a done deal. Thanks, Rory.” She went back to change again while Sheri finished removing the plastic from the rest of the garments in the closet.
“Sheri, you’ve done it again.” Elle hung the dresses up. “Now I don’t have to worry about my clothes for a while.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“Now all I have to worry about is my makeup. Do you think Rochelle will do it? I know it’s a holiday, but I’ll pay her double.”
“I’m sure she will. I’ll give her a call. What time do you want her to come over?”
“I’ll be back from the soup kitchen around one and I’ll probably be in the kitchen for at least an hour. Shall we say around three o’clock?”
“Done.” She clapped her hands. “By the way, Fashion Week will be here again before we know it. Would you like to go again?”
What the heck? Elle thought. “Sure. I’d like to see next summer fashions before the end of winter.”
“I know it sounds crazy, but there’s a method to the madness.” Sheri smiled.
“There is?” Rory asked, surprised.
“Yes. Do you really want to know why?” Sheri asked.
“No.” Rory nodded. “I’ll leave that to the fashion gods.”
“What I don’t get is why Fashion Week is in September instead of October. I mean if they’re going to have so many skeletons walk the runway, it should be closer to Halloween. That’s a theme, isn’t it?”
Rory and Sheri laughed.
“Elle, what I’d give to be in your head for just a few minutes.” Rory chuckled then looked at his watch. “Well, ladies, this has been terrific, but I have to get going.”
“Okay,” Elle said.
Sheri looked at her watch. “Where did the time go? I have to get going, too.”
“I’ll walk you both out,” Elle said as she led them out of the room and downstairs to the foyer.
Sheri stopped to search her bag. “I think I dropped my keys. Do you mind if I go back up?”
“No. Go ahead.”
Sheri dashed upstairs.
Elle opened the door. “I suppose I’ll see you next week.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Rory kissed her on the cheek. “See you then.”
“Bye.” She waved.
Sheri returned waving her keys. “I’ve got them.”
“Good. Thanks again for coming today. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” She looked around. “Your brother-in law left?”
She nodded. “He has to take care of that cut on his neck before he heads back to his office.”
“That was a cut?” Sheri looked confused. “I must need glasses. It looked like a hickey to me.”
Elle laughed. “A hickey? That’s funny.”
Sheri shrugged. “Anyway, you enjoy your holiday and we’ll get together for your winter stuff soon.”
“Okay.”
She closed the door behind Sheri. Rory has a hickey? That’s crazy. He’s forty-six years old. Then again, he’s unhappily married and he did have the same clothes on. “Oh, this is too much for me,” Elle said aloud.
“Mrs. Brennan? Did you say something?” Frieda asked.
“I’m just mumbling to myself, Frieda.” She sighed. “I’ll be in the office for a while if anyone needs me.”
Chapter 4
Before anyone realized it, Thanksgiving Day was upon them. That meant Doug, Elle and the boys were working in St Stephen’s of Hungary’s soup kitchen. Despite the city’s financial troubles Doug increased the resources for soup kitchens and pantries around the city. Moreover the Brennan family made a point to donate to most of these facilities year-round to help New Yorkers through tough times. With hair nets, gloves and serving spoons Doug, Elle, Kevin and Kyle helped prepare and serve food. Though the press usually covered the event with a few city desk reporters, this year there were an unusual number of local and national newspaper and television reporters in the mix as well.
Elle leaned over to Doug. “Did these reporters lose a bet or something? I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many of them here before.”
“I can’t say for sure.”
Ki walked up to them. “Happy Thanksgiving, Elle.” He kissed her cheek.
“Thanks, Ki. Same to you.”
“We’re looking forward to dinner.”
“That’s great, because there will be plenty of food.”
Doug checked the clock. “It’s nearly two o’clock. Elle has to get home.”
“That’s not a problem. I’ll take her place.” Ki donned a hair net, apron and gloves.
Doug snickered. “That’s a lot of look for you, Ki.”
Kevin and Kyle chuckled.
“Very funny.” Ki wasn’t amused.
“Play nice, you two.” Elle said as she took her hair net and apron off. “I’ll take the boys home with me.”
“Okay,” Doug said, and turned to Kevin and Kyle. “I’ll see you two in a little while.”
“Okay, Dad,” they chorused.
Doug kissed Elle. “See you later, baby.”
Elle waved. “Come on, guys.” The press took some pictures as she and the boys left.
Ki waited until the reporters were out of earshot. “Word is the president-elect is making the announcement about Rita on Monday.”
“Really?”
“Yes. A friend of mine from The New York Times told me they’re running a story on Sunday about possible potential replacements, and your name was mentioned favorably.”
“Good.”
“As for how receptive members of the Senate are about it, I don’t know.”
“I’m sure Uncle Rob knows. He’ll be at the house tonight,” Doug said.
“Between him and your dad we’ll get the whole picture.”
“Speaking of pictures, smile.”
A photographer snapped their photo. Doug spent the next couple of hours serving people on the line, taking photos and talking with parishioners, while Ki worked the reporters. It was time to put Doug’s best foot forward because it was likely he would meet with just as much disapproval as approval to be the next junior senator from New York.
