“That may well conclude our meeting for today,” she muttered.
Crawford said, “Honesty was on the agenda. You can handle this Jorja; we all can.”
Jenny hugged her daughter and said,” Come on Jorja, let’s have this long overdue discussion. Sean and his wingman would be proud!”
Jorja banged the stick on the floor again.
“In last week’s episode, we found Jorja, shocked with the news that not only was Miss Stein a wanton woman, well, a wanton feline, she was adopted as well. Yes, Miss Stein was adopted by the Clark family. In a weird twist of fate, Jorja was also adopted. When Jorja found this out, she too had kittens. Let’s listen in as Jenny and Crawford explain their decision not to tell Jorja about her parentage.”
Jenny continued to hug Jorja. “The short story is, we wanted to protect you,” she said.
“There was a lot of scandal at the time and the potential for a lot more; we didn’t want you starting life with that baggage,” Crawford added.
Jorja moved slightly away from her Mother while opening her arms expansively. “Well folks, I have two large suitcases and a matching set of carry-on luggage. They’re all empty and I’ve cashed in my ticket to Never-never land. What sort of scandal did Aunty Cydney get herself involved in?”
Both of her parents said “Whaaaaat?” at the exact same time.
“Yes, I listened to Aunty Cydney’s voicemail,” Jorja said.
Crawford exhaled while Jenny drew a deep breath in.
“My little Sister had just turned 18 and decided that she needed to get out from under Grandma Connelly’s thumb,” Jenny began.
“As you so correctly observed, my Mother-in-law Grace wasn’t the nicest person around,” Crawford said. “Cydney seemed to be the bane of Grace’s existence; we had been married for about a year at this time and with Jenny out of the home, Cydney got the brunt of her Mother’s disappointment.”
Jorja settled back into the hug with her Mother.
“Mom really didn’t know what to do with two creative daughters. She expected that we would go into business with her and Dad, but when I started forging my own path, she came unglued. I could stand up to her, but not Cyd.”
Crawford smiled at a memory. “You should have seen what Cydney created when she was just seventeen!” he said happily. “It was the most awesome thing I had ever seen! She wove…”
“Knitted,” Jenny corrected.
“The coolest fort ever!” Crawford exclaimed.
Jenny rolled her eyes. “Cydney called it her ‘fiber home’; it was a bunch of huge knitted tubes with red maple twigs intertwined to provide support. The tubes had random pathways leading to little tiny rooms…she called these “reflection pods”. I used to go and read in a different pod every day when the fiber home was still standing,” Jenny said.
“Could we get to the semen situation?” Jorja asked.
Jenny smoothed her eyebrows and continued, “I wanted you to know what led up to the erm, semen situation. Cydney had worked all summer on her project, it was in the back of our property, and Dad and Mom had no idea. One day Mom took a very untypical walk in the back forty and came upon this glorious explosion of wool and very nearly had a glorious explosion herself. She told Dad to bulldoze it and he did. On Cydney’s 18th birthday. Cydney said nothing when she found out; she just walked out of the house and stayed away for two weeks,” Jenny said sadly.
Jorja held up her hands to her Dad. “Please Sir, I want some more?”
“Of course, you’ll have to ask your Aunt Cydney if you want emotional details, but the Cliff notes read something like, “The young woman stole her Sister’s id, went to the bar, got rip snorting drunk, found the man of her dreams and stayed with him for two weeks.” Crawford looked over at Jenny.
“The next chapter reads, “At the end of two weeks in a no-tell motel, the young woman intercepted a phone call and found out the man was married. She returned home determined never to talk to him or her parents again,” Jenny said.
“Still a little short on gruel here,” Jorja prompted.
“The man turned out to be the Pastor of Mom & Dad’s church,” Jenny continued.
“Oopsie-doodle! But wait, on the voicemail, Aunty Cydney said she didn’t know my Father.” Jorja looked at Crawford. “I mean, my biological Father. Oh gosh, Dad, did I just hurt you?”
Crawford shook his head.
Jorja suddenly wailed, “What am I supposed to call Aunty Cydney now?”
Jenny hugged her daughter tighter. “Are you okay to carry on?” she asked.
Jorja gave her two thumbs up.
“The man and his wife reconciled while the entire community blamed the wicked Jezebel. After five months, when the furor was finally dying down, the young woman decided she needed to move out of her parents’ home. Her daily life was one of criticism and crushing name calling. She felt strongly this was not good for the little life she was growing.”
“Although, her dear Sister and wonderful Brother-in-law were a refuge, the young woman wanted to live on her own,” Crawford said.
Jenny teared up. “She really wanted to keep you, Jorja; but she had to tell welfare the name of the contributor of the semen, so they could sue him for support. That revelation set in motion a series of events that overwhelmed her. Afterwards, she felt completely unprepared to raise you.” She wiped her eyes and said “To continue with the story: after the government received the results of the DNA tests, it was confirmed that Pastor Bob was the father. Pastor Bob’s wife; Queen Bat Crap Crazy, got drunk, on a Sunday morning, hopped in a truck and tried to run down the very pregnant young woman!”
“No!” Jorja yelled.
“Fortunately, Queen Bat Crap Crazy hit the fire hydrant, and was arrested in the midst of the large gathering of parishioners who had just walked out of Pastor Bob’s sermon to investigate the screaming. The entire congregation, albeit dampened by the impromptu shower, rallied to the young woman’s side and hissed at the evil queen.”
Jorja gave a small round of applause at this news.
“The subsequent restraining order against Pastor Bob and his Queen was enough to convince them to move to the mainland.” Jenny shrugged. “The increase in sales of chicken feathers and asphalt may have been a determining factor as well,” she finished.
Jorja looked over at her Dad who was waving his hand wildly and saying “ooh, ooh ooh”.
“The chair recognizes Dad or possibly a sweat hog named Arnold Horshack,” Jorja said.
“Pastor Bob pressured Aunty Cydney to drop the charges against Queen Bat Crap Crazy; but the Crown Counsel charged her anyway; she did five years in minimum security and then had a peculiar piece of jewellery attached to her ankle…how many times did she violate her house arrest, Jenny?”
Jenny picked up the story. “It was at least half a dozen times. The story I heard was she insisted she had a right to get her hair and nails done. One would think that grocery shopping might be a priority; or say, taking their children to school…” Jenny stopped suddenly.
“I have siblings?” Jorja asked.
Later that night at the hospital, Malcolm was working his last night shift with his RN buddy Jeff.
“So Jorja and I are meeting for lunch tomorrow; I want to catch up on her adoption news and let her know about my news as well,” Malcolm said as he double-checked a discharge prescription.
“If you can get a word in edge-wise!” Jeff grinned and added, “Your Jorja sounds like a regular fire-cracker! She sure keeps your life interesting.” Jeff stopped filling out his paperwork and looked over at Malcolm. “I hate to say this, Bro, but you were pretty boring before Jorja came along. She’s been good for you. When are you taking this relationship to the next level?”
Malcolm laughed. “Yes, she has been good for me. There I was, a regular Eeyore, all doom and gloom, for days, weeks, months, who knows, and Jorja bounces into my life. She somehow convinced me to let her draw my portrait…”
“She convinced y
ou? Um, the way you first told me was that you ‘saw this absolute vision across the road. ’”
“Oh she was! Her hair, at that time, was a beautiful turquoise blue and she wore a white dress with orange polka dots. She had the biggest smile and the most delightful laugh! She was sitting on a little chair sketching a lady in front of her. I had to investigate this incredible vision, but I nearly got hit by a car crossing the road!” Malcolm laughed and filed his paperwork.
“Well I’m done, how about you?” he asked Jeff.
Jeff stretched and looked over at the coffee pot. “Yup, I’m more than done. I think I’ll make a pot of Joe, but you still need to answer my question! When are you and Jorja going to be a couple?”
Malcolm shook his head. “I don’t know; I mean my mind races ahead and I think crazy things like, I know her parents like me, but do they think I’m Son-in-law material; do I need to build a studio for her, or will we need to build a nursery first? Does she even want children? If she does, will our children be tall like me or petit like Jorja?”
“In that case, the key question would be, will you have little blue-haired toddlers running around? Just think, you could be the next generation Smurf tribe!” Jeff said as he walked to the break area.
Malcolm rolled his eyes and then looked serious. “I think the key question may be: is Jorja ready for a serious relationship; and hopefully, with me?”
Jorja was at home listening to the voicemail. When Malcolm’s voice filled the room, Jorja instantaneously smiled. Jenny and Crawford looked at each other, nodded and smiled as well.
The family meeting, although full of tears, had gone well; especially after Jorja was assured that she did not have any siblings. Queen Bat Crap Crazy had her children in England, with her first husband, years before she came to Canada and met Pastor Bob. Jorja had started crying at this point.
“I’m so happy,” she sobbed as her parents looked perplexed. Jorja continued, “Despite my earlier inquiries as to a familial history of Royalty, I so didn’t want to be related to the Queen!”
Jenny decided at this point that the meeting should be adjourned as all the crying and snuffling would wake the kittens.
“You know how much babies need their sleep,” Jenny said as she wiped her eyes yet again and gently tapped the talking stick on the floor.
As Jenny got up to make a typical Clark family treat, chocolate pudding, Jorja played the voicemail that Malcolm had left while the family was at the park. She danced to the kitchen and hugged her Mom.
“That’s why I love being with you!” she sang, repeating the last line of Malcolm’s message.
Her Mother continued whisking the pudding, but raised her eyebrows and sang, “So I want to…?”
Crawford put his hand to his brow, and said dramatically, “And so I want to…?”
Jorja raised her shoulder, batted her eyes and whispered seductively to the mirror, “And so I want to make mad passionate love to you!”
Jenny tutted and said, “And so I want to hire your Mother to go over my tax returns for next year!”
“That’s why I love being with you,” Crawford sang, “And so I want to file articles of incorporation to start a chocolate pudding making business.”
Jorja frowned. “Well that doesn’t even make sense Dad!”
“Because this family’s all about making sense,” Jenny smirked.
“What do you think Malcolm wants?” Jorja asked.
“You’ll have to ask him tomorrow when you ask him what was on the card he originally sent with the flowers,” Crawford said. “Now, eat your pudding and go to bed or go to bed and get up in the middle of the night. Your choice.”
“And do not be fooled by Miss Stein, she does not need pudding to feed her starving children. Those are the roundest bellies I have ever seen!”
Miss Stein took this pronouncement as a personal affront and hopped off the counter.
The next morning, Maisy and Sasha were bouncing off the mini-trampoline and the walls with joy.
“Going house hunting! Whoo- hoo!” screamed Maisy.
Her twin Sister was wearing her usual cow outfit and added a happy sounding “Moo-moo!”
The girls then started running around the apartment. Maisy jumped on the mini-trampoline and shouted “Whoo- hoo!” She then jumped off and Sasha took her turn.
“Moo-moo!” she yelled.
Amanda ran into the front room, with a mascara wand in one hand and an eyelash curler in the other.
“Whoo-hoo!” Maisy yelled.
“Moo-moo!” Sasha added.
“Can it!” Amanda yelled.
The girls completely ignored her, but stopped when Dustin came through the front door.
“Daddy!” they yelled and ran to him.
“We’re going house hunting today,” Maisy informed him, while Dustin nodded.
“Do we need a spear gun or what?” Sasha asked.
“Nope,” said Dustin, as he helped the girls find their flip flops and purses. “We need something almost as dangerous; a Realtor,” he added ominously.
The Sinclair family was a few minutes early when they arrived at the old Connelly town site. They dutifully parked their SUV in the designated area and walked down to the middle of town. Cute shops lined the ocean side of the highway, while homes sat up on the high side with great long staircases that reached down to the street.
“Look, the park where we went painting is up that way,” Amanda pointed out.
“And there’s a pretty little flower shop!” Maisy said excitedly.
Sasha looked across the road. Buckets of blooms lined the street outside and the windows were dressed with gorgeous bouquets.
“Moo?” said Sasha curiously. “They sell flowers?” she asked her parents.
“Yes dear,” Dustin advised. “But if we buy a house with a nice big yard, we can just plant our own! Won’t that be fun?”
Amanda looked at her one perfectly manicured hand and her other bandaged one. “I don’t think I’ll be gardening any time soon,” she said.
Sasha persisted. “They sell flowers? When I grow up, I could get a job selling flowers?”
Maisy smirked. “If you grow up! You’re pretty short you know.”
Dustin pointed out the young man behind the counter at the ‘Blooming Things’ shop. “See that man? He is putting a big bunch of flowers in a box and giving them to that lady.”
“And she is giving him a credit card by the looks of it,” Amanda added.
Sasha was mesmerized. She slowly walked towards the shop, while sighing happily, “I could sell flowers!”
A loud honk startled the little girl out of her reverie. Amanda grabbed Sasha by the shoulders, simultaneously pulling her back and letting out a cry. “Watch out!” she screamed at the driver.
The white car, with a realty sign emblazoned on the side, pulled over and a large sour faced woman got out. The little dog in her oversize purse started growling and yipping.
“You should control your children, Madam!” the woman admonished.
Amanda hugged Sasha tighter. “You should control your car!” she retorted.
Dustin put his arm around his wife while she continued to hug Sasha, and reached out for Maisy’s hand.
“Perhaps you’re not from around here,” he began, “But we are right in the middle of a week-long celebration known as the Blackberry Festival. Main Street; this street we are standing on, is blocked off for the entire week.” He leaned forward and said slowly “You must have removed the barriers blocking off this street in order to drive in here.”
The woman shrugged her shoulders dismissively and looked at her watch.
“The point?” Dustin said loudly, “This street is blocked off. My children have the right to walk across the road without any fear of being hit by some idiot who has decided to drive in a pedestrian only zone!”
Maisy stuck out her tongue at the lady and walked across the road, turned around and walked back to her family. “See?” she said.
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The woman plastered a fake smile on her face. “How nice to meet you,” she said sarcastically, “Now if you will excuse me, I have some very important clients to meet.”
She then looked closely at Dustin. “Don’t I know you?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Dustin, “We had a staring contest at the Royal Towers the other day. I believe it was a draw.”
The woman plunged her hand into her purse, pushed her dog aside and pulled out a business card. She thrust the card under Dustin’s nose.
“While you may enjoy engaging in juvenile games, I am a very serious business woman with a very serious job. You see that house up there, the one with the big sign that says ‘Betty Boothe’s Realty’? Well, I’m Betty Boothe. I own the company. I’m going to sell that house today to my very important clients. They should be here any minute. So you and your little rude children can vamoose.”
She waved them away and turned her back to them as she looked at her watch again.
Amanda said very quietly to Betty Boothe’s back. “You know, you did not mention me.”
The Realtor turned around halfway and waved her hand again. “Yes, you can shoo too! Go, go!”
Amanda continued speaking in a very quiet voice. “You know, the past few months, I have really been working on my temper. So I think I’ll take five minutes off this morning, for good behaviour! But first, tell me, oh very important business woman, are you waiting for the Sinclair family?”
Betty Boothe suddenly turned all the way around. Her little dog, Napoleon looked at Amanda’s face, let out a yelp, and then hid his head in Betty Boothe’s purse.
“Not that it is any of your business, but yes I am!” Betty Boothe said.
“Heah, that’s our name!” said the twins in perfect synchronicity.
The Realtor looked at Dustin and the children, frowned, and then looked back at Amanda.
“So you were right,” Amanda said, “You were waiting for very important clients. That’s right, we are the Sinclairs; we are very important people! And you, yes, you are indeed a V.I.P.; only in your case it stands for Very Ignorant Person!”
Jorja & Malcolm (Toffee Kisses Book 1) Page 7
