Mimi answered. I’d like that too, but I am dead broke.
Cass answered so fast that her own head spun. I am not. My treat. Any way you could meet me today?
Yes. if you are sure.
Totally. Do you know where Stoltz’s deli is?
I can be there at twelve.
Awesome—see you there.
Remembering the promises she had made to herself and to Killian, Cass took a minute to put her coffee cup in the dishwasher, smooth the coverlet over the bed, and stoop to pick up the panties that she was fairly certain Killian had tossed aside during their vigorous lovemaking of the previous night, and toss them into the hamper. She paused to put on a smidge of makeup—she might be all about empowerment and self love, but she was going out to lunch with a younger woman that at least one man had found much more attractive. No point in making herself feel even worse. Handbag over her arm, and sunglasses perched atop her head and she was out the door.
* * *
She was early enough to nab a table; the place was rapidly filling up with diners. Living in Slick Trench had totally gotten her out of the habit of anticipating how crowded an establishment might be. Nothing was ever crowded in Slick Trench, except maybe the dock in fishing season. That was some actual Alaskan humor. She gave a low chuckle to herself and then remembered that she honestly had never understood if there was a “fishing season” in Slick Trench. She had a lifetime of “bush learning” to make up.
She settled into a booth, ordered an iced tea and pulled her phone out. She hated sitting in a restaurant by herself, and she needed her daily dose of bile inducing Made to Reign. Luckily for her blood pressure, she had just opened the site when Mimi appeared. She was still in appallingly good shape. She was now a lithe, very pregnant woman with long lustrous hair. Cass had thought of her as a stick-thin empty headed home wrecker. But now she saw the gracious lines of her face and the tone of her arms and she had to admit she had not really known much about the girl. Cass hadn't thought of how she would greet the woman her fiancé had left her for, but the correct thing came easily to her mind. She slipped out of the booth and gathered Mimi into a hug. The mother-to-be burst into tears. Cass bundled her into the booth and sat beside her.
“Shhh, it's all right, sweet pea,” she murmured.
Mimi blew her nose on a napkin. “Except that it’s totally not. I can’t keep the apartment, my parents live in Oregon and aren’t exactly thrilled that their daughter’s knocked up and single.”
Cass heard herself promise, “It will be okay, we will figure it out.”
The waiter hovered near their table, clearly not wanting to ignore them and yet not wanting to intrude. Cass found taking charge very easy where food was concerned. “Are you still a vegetarian?”
Mimi shook her head. “I sort of gave that up.”
Cass looked over the crying woman’s shoulder and set to work ordering enough food for a small army. “A pastrami on rye, double order of potato pancakes, a cup of vegetable soup,” she tried to put on the brakes, but couldn't. “And a piece of chocolate silk pie.”
The waiter took several more minutes writing down the order than it took her to give it. “Does she want a water?” He pointed his pencil at the still shaking shoulders of Mimi.
Cass replied, “Yes,” and turned back to Mimi. The sobs had begun to slow down. Mimi wiped her eyes with a napkin. “Okay, okay, so tell me everything.”
Mimi exhaled slowly and looked up. “I had no idea you guys were still together. Steph’s right, I’m not very smart.”
Cass felt her ire rising. “No. No. Do not ever say that. He’s wrong, and a moron, and evil and a moron, and even lousy in bed, on top of being a lying, liar, moron.”
“I did not know you were still together.”
“You mentioned that, honey. If it is any comfort to you—I forgive you, without reservation.”
“It is,” Mimi whispered. “It is a comfort. He also said that he was the brains behind the blog.”
This left Cass in a state which she suspected was what her grandmother had in mind when she used the term “high dudgeon.” So he called her lumpy, and ugly and even a whore to countless sycophants online. How DARE he take credit for her blog.
“He can't boil water. I mean he literally can’t.”
Mimi nodded. “I know, look what happened when he took over it.”
“I thought you did the writing?”
Mimi cocked her head at her. “Oh come on, I may not be a brain surgeon, but really?”
“So when did this Made to Reign stuff start? What is he doing, except telling other men to yell at overweight women?”
“Oh, they go to his talks; he also does Skype counseling sessions.”
The mind boggled. “People pay him to sit behind his computer and give them advice?”
“He counsels them on how to protect their assets from toxic women.” Mimi had the good grace to wince as she said this.
“According to a smart lawyer I know, his advice is shit. He didn't have any assets to protect anyway.”
“I know.”
The first tray full of their food had arrived and Cass was relieved to have something else to focus on. She gleefully divided up the spoils, ignoring Mimi’s exclamations that it was way too much food. Of course it was, food was how Cass cared for people.
“Okay, that will only give us indigestion. Different topic. You are a yoga instructor?”
Mimi timidly tasted the vegetable soup and her face lit up. “God, this is good. Yes, a studio where I used to work is giving me some class times, but it's not near enough. My master is helping a lot.”
Cass blinked. She blinked again. So she was not the freakiest girl Stephen the carbophobic fuckwit had ever brought home…
Mimi continued, “He lets me have the little guys, they have a lot of energy, but they don't need anyone who’s really skilled.”
Sometimes the only response is to take a bite of pastrami. Mimi continued, oblivious to Cass’s growing consternation. “And anyway, who wants to grapple around,” she gestured to her belly, round and tight as a basketball, “this?”
With a voice that she was trying to prevent from sounding judgy, Cass gently asked, “How long have you known him?”
“Master Eli? Oh, like eight years, I think. I started with him when I was in middle school.”
Oh my God. Oh my God, Stephen the fuckwit might actually have been a step up for poor Mimi. She had to say something. She had to. She knew what it was like being afraid of being judged for your desires, but if Mimi had been with this “master” since the seventh grade, he was a predator.
She put her sandwich down. She reached for the mother-to-be’s hand. “Life is complicated,” she began. “You deserve someone who will treat you well, and I know that what that looks like can vary from couple to couple.” Mimi squeezed her hand back.
“I agree, that's why I was so grateful when Eli finally got a divorce.”
“Wait? He was married? While you were his sub and in middle school?” She was willing her vocal cords to relax, screeching might send the poor thing into labor.
“Well, I didn't sub for him then. I was just another one of his students. I was always his favorite though.”
Oh the poor deluded little girl. She had been groomed by that monster. She was certain that each and every one of his victims thought that she was his favorite. Mimi continued on, blithely unaware that Cass was ready to insist Mimi come home with her. They would pick Killian up from work, and he would beat this “Master Eli” to death. Cass was sure Jen would help them hide the body.
She was lost in her own thoughts and only caught an occasional word as Mimi chatted away about respect and discipline and control and wood and belts. She knew the vocabulary involved in getting a good spanking—wait. What had Mimi just said?
“Wait? He uses colored belts? Like are they different sizes?”
Mimi had discovered the joy that was a Kravitz’ potato pancake and nodded while she blissfull
y swallowed. “Well, they come in adult and child sizes of course.” Cass felt her eyes growing wide with horror. So this wasn't a random freak—there was some organized system.
“The first fifteen minutes of every white belt class is usually me tying their belts.”
Cass felt like she had been riding a bike very fast down a hill and she had suddenly hit a speed bump.
“You tie the white belts?” she repeated dumbly, aware that some very important piece of information was just outside of her grasp.
“Yes, even the adults, usually by the time they’ve earned their yellow belt they have it down.”
She was delighted at this speed bump. Oh thank Christ and all his corporals. “You teach karate.”
Mimi had picked up her half of the mountain of pastrami perched precariously between two wholly inadequate slices of rye bread. “Taekwondo and self defense, and yoga, of course.”
“Thank God,” Cass muttered and moved straight to the pie.
They agreed to stay in touch. They hugged warmly and Cass gratefully took her non pregnant self home to her nonfuckwit husband.
CassCooks Blog Post:
Remember our guiding principal—say it with me now. “We do not need to be all things to all people—a lovely dinner or a cocktail party is plenty. We are not doing both.”
Sarah and Connor have opted to serve a three-course dinner, followed by wedding cake and champagne. For later in the night, we will put out elaborate cheese platters. Sarah and Connor have opted for a sit down dinner. People have very strong feelings about this topic. Personally, I am not at all convinced that a buffet saves you any money. It does save you on the cost of servers, however, people tend to eat more to sample all of the different varieties of deliciousness. If you cannot remove yourself from the siren call of of the buffet, at least have your protein portions cut smaller than you normally would. This is, in fact, the one good thing to say about a buffet—it allows you to offer several entrees. Most caterers offer plates with two entrees. We initially chose lamb chops, but life being, well, life, we had to cut some pennies somewhere.
Menu:
Starter: smoked salmon. This is where we have put some money. It's a spectacular way to showcase Connor’s Scottish background. It will be plated beautifully, but served simply—thin delicate pink sheets, rippled on the plate, prancing atop lightly dressed greens dotted with horseradish cream, lemon wheels, and a polka dotting of capers. Bread and butter will be served alongside. Of course, this let’s us dispatch with the salad course.
Second course: pumpkin soup. You certainly could serve it in tiny pumpkins, assuming you really hate your caterer AND your guests. Face it, they are cute, but you are making a deal with the devil. Pre-roast the pumpkins and your guests are one good dig with a spoon away from having a lapful of soup. I, for one, learned from the McDonald's hot coffee debacle. If you leave the pumpkins raw, your soup gets cold. Rejoice that we live in a world with bowls… We chose to garnish with toasted pepitos (peeled pumpkin seeds). We chose not to go with bacon because of our choice for the main course: (Even I must painfully conclude that there is a limit to how many differing forms of pork a single meal needs.)
For Our Entrée: thick pork chops, stuffed with Braeburn apples, served atop roasted garlic mashed potatoes with green beans.
Now, there is a certain genius to this. We've let our expensive ingredients take a place of honor. You know your guests, and obviously if many of your friends do not eat pork, you may want to swap chicken breast for the swine. We, however, are in Chicago, smack in the middle of the porcine belt. If you anticipate vegetarian guests, you can arrange for another vegetable dish to round out the potatoes and green beans—perhaps a colored pepper medley.
Wedding cake: flavor to be announced
I’m giving recipes to serve four, the web site has conversions for larger amounts
Chapter Fifteen - The Slick Trench Travelers
It seemed ungracious to not pick their family up at the airport. It just wasn't practical. The car that “The White Gown network” had leased for them was a Tercel. It was a nice car. It couldn't possibly carry six people and luggage. So the Slick Trench contingent had taken the shuttle to their hotel from the airport. Cass and Killian took the elevator up. The door was opened almost instantaneously.
She was overwhelmingly glad to see them. Even Libby, and who the hell would have predicted that? She was shocked at the strength of Hazel’s hug. The diminutive firebrand rocked her from side to side, and said, “Oh, how I have missed my girl” as they let go. Cass felt tears in the corners of her eyes. They settled into the sitting room of the suite and Hazel teasingly called out, “Get your keister out here old man and make cocktails—I don't keep you around just for the fringe benefits.” Killian and Torsten both winced. Cass found herself giving over to delighted laughter.
“So catch me up on home,” Cass said to Libby. “Home” That’s what Alaska was now. This adventure she and Killian were on was amazing, a once in a lifetime shot, a thrill. But however it ended, in triumph or in defeat, they would eventually be returning home—to the ludicrously named “Slick Trench.”
Libby took a sip of the drink that Lloyd had handed her. “Well, a LOT has happened.”
Cass felt a pang of jealousy. “Really?”
Libby rolled her eyes and shook her head; Cass had fallen for her dry wit yet again. “Well, that crazy city girl, the one who can cook really well? She up and took the second handsomest man in the town with her to Chicago.”
Libby looked at Torsten. She had been childhood sweethearts with Killian and he had at the last minute decided not to marry her. It had been an incident that had been excruciating at the time. Now, they were all deeply thankful. Killian belonged with Cass and Torsten belonged with the witty, almost impossibly perfect Libby.
“We were thinking that you would come over for dinner tomorrow. Tonight we thought we’d show you the city and introduce you to actual pizza.” Cass adored showing off her hometown to her new family. They strolled along the Magnificent Mile.
“It’s not for nothing they call it the windy city,” Hazel exclaimed, clutching her cardigan around her plump frame.
“Well, yeah,” Cass retorted.
“She’s being nice. She means she just always thought you all were a bunch of wimpy whiner babies,” Libby concluded. Someday, Cass vowed, she would not need Libby to serve as translator.
“Keep it up and I won't take you to a baseball game, or to see K’s office at the Museum of Natural History.” Dammit. That was supposed to be a surprise. Killian had told his mother that he had started his job, but had insisted that he would reveal his employer when she was in town. Killian, with his arm around his mother's shoulder and his wife holding his hand seemed too content to mind.
“Yes!” Hazel exclaimed, pumping a chubby arm. “The Chicago Museum of Natural History! In your face,” she taunted no one in particular.
Killian grinned. “Yeah, I'm going over their various wolf exhibits and putting together a sort of ‘best of retrospective.’”
For once it wasn't Cass who over ordered. Accustomed to thinner crust pizza, the Alaskans ordered several pies. Cass tried to warn them. The Chicago deep dish pizza’s ability to fill you up to bursting in one slice, was simply not something they understood. Even Torsten, the enormous park ranger, found himself slowing down after a few pieces. As they sat around the table littered with plates of half eaten pizza slices that had bested their ambitions, they talked about long term plans for the lodge.
“We have an idea,” Hazel began, hesitatingly looking between her two sons. She reached for Lloyd’s hand. Cass had the idea that she was trying to finesse this discussion. The boys still viewed Trench Outfitters as their dad’s company. If Hazel and Lloyd had ideas about any radical changes, she might face serious resistance. “Nobody does wilderness adventures better than we do.”
She had her son's’ attention. “I’ve been thinking that it might be good to add some services to the
ones we offer. We used to get mostly fisherman, but now we get families, and thanks to our girl here,” she beamed at Cass, “a lot of weddings.
“I think we need to add some spa type services.”
Killian snorted, “Like what? Couples massages while Torsten does bear watch?”
Torsten jumped in. “A manicure and whale watching combo?” His brother guffawed in appreciation.
Hazel nodded. “Well, yeah, something like that.”
The boys shared a glance.
Hazel continued, “We’ve had some plans drawn up.”
Killian did not look happy. His mother ignored him and unfurled the drawings. To Cass’s untrained eye, they looked pretty amazing. The plans would add a large many windowed building that had unobstructed views of the water. The upper floor would have a studio that could be used for yoga, or meditation and several rooms that could be used for massages, and beauty treatments. The lower floor would feature a large banquet room, with fireplaces at either end. Hazel looked nervously from one boy to the other. “Your dad and I always planned to expand, but we didn't expect to be catering to non outdoorsy types. We didn't really see the whole wedding thing coming, but I think your dad would approve.”
Torsten grudgingly acceded, “It fits in nicely with the cottages.”
Libby offered, “It would allow you to host larger weddings.”
Killian was not buying it. “Not really, I mean, we can only have so many guests stay there and it's not like they will have local people coming in for their parties.”
Lloyd was ready for this argument, although he clearly did not relish this discussion. “Well, there are two hotels within thirty minutes, so not everyone would have to stay with us.”
“But then we’d be giving business to other hotels.”
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