by Maria Geraci
Mimi put her hand up to stifle the chorus of boos brought on by Pilar’s words. “Don’t worry. This doesn’t change anything. I’m still running against Bruce, only now, we have more time. That’s all. No big deal.”
“But to cancel the election with less than two months out? I think the whole thing stinks,” Frida grumbled.
“What I’d like to know is how he’s getting Billy Brenton to perform,” Shea said. “You have to admit, it’s a far cry from last year’s closing act.”
Lauren had to agree. Last year, Harry Tuba and his polka band, a local group, had closed out the festival. Personally, Lauren didn’t have anything against polka bands, but it seemed like a big leap (in a good way) from Harry Tuba to Billy Brenton.
“However Bruce managed it, I have to give him credit,” Mimi said. “Even though he’s my opposition, he’s done a really good thing in getting someone of Billy Brenton’s caliber for our festival, so I say, kudos to Bruce.” She raised her margarita glass in salute, but none of the other Babes followed her lead.
“That’s your problem, Mary Margaret,” Pilar said, using Mimi’s real name for emphasis, “You’re just too damn good for politics.”
“And that’s exactly why we need her as mayor,” Frida said. “Mimi wants what’s best for Whispering Bay, not what’s best for her.”
The room erupted in more talk, but eventually they settled down to play Bunco. Lauren started off at the head table and almost immediately rolled three sixes. “Bunco!” she yelled, amidst the laughter. They continued playing, talking the entire time they rolled.
“Who has big plans for tomorrow night?” Shea asked. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day and the girls began chatting up what they were doing and what they’d bought their husbands, and what they hoped their husbands had bought for them.
“Are you doing anything special, Lauren?” Kitty asked.
“I’m spending the night with four different men,” Lauren said casually. “Woops. I mean, five.”
The room came to a standstill.
“When I told you needed to get…you know,” Shea said, “I didn’t mean with five different guys!”
Lauren laughed. “Besides being Valentine’s Day, it’s also Henry’s birthday. Tom and Allie and I are taking him and four of his friends to Tiny’s for pizza, then the boys are coming back to my house for a sleepover. I expect they’ll be up most of the night playing with Henry’s new X-Box.”
“Ah! Yes, exactly, that’s what I meant,” Shea said, grinning.
“No big hot Valentine’s Date?” Frida said. Eleven pairs of sympathetic eyes turned to look at her. As the only single member of the Bunco Babes, the girls swore they loved to “live vicariously” through her. Too bad there was nothing exciting for her to share.
“Nope. No date.”
“What about couples Bunco? Have you thought about who you might ask to that?” Shea gave Lauren a pointed look that made her regret she’d told them about The Kiss. Of course, Shea was hinting that she should ask Nate.
She tried to act casual. “That’s still over two months away. I have time.”
“By the way, I absolutely love that dress you designed for Kitty,” Frida said, scooping up the dice.
“Thanks!” Lauren said, grateful for Frida’s change of topic. She had been pleased (well, more like ecstatic) to see Kitty come to Bunco tonight wearing the dress she’d made for her. At first, the question of what kind of fabric to use had stymied her, but she’d gone with a pale apricot and lime polka dot cotton polyester blend that stretched enough to be comfortable, but wasn’t too clingy. A perfect combo for a maternity look. Plus, it screamed Florida. It was fun and flattering, and unless you worked in an environment where you needed to dress ultra-conservatively, it could be worn for both business and pleasure.
Kitty overheard Frida’s comment from the next table. She halted their play and stood to model the dress. “Isn’t it fabulous?” She turned around to show the dress off from every angle. “I got nothing but compliments all day long. And it’s so comfortable! I might just wear it after the baby comes, too. Honestly, I could use about a dozen of these.”
“You should make them and sell them in your shop,” Shea said. “I wish I’d had something that cute to wear when I was pregnant with the girls.”
Lauren sat back and basked in their compliments. She’d designed the outfit on a whim, but ever since Nate had suggested that she sell her own designs, it had been hard to get the idea out of her head. But between work and Henry, it had taken her almost a week to complete the dress. The first dress in a pattern always took the longest, though. Now that she’d worked the kinks out, she could probably produce one faster, although not fast enough to keep up with any sort of real production value.
“I was thinking of maybe sewing up a few more to sell at my booth at the Spring Into Summer festival,” she said.
“You should totally do that,” Pilar said. “Maybe even sell some online, too.”
Online? Lauren hadn’t thought of that.
“You should get that girl in your shop, what’s her name, Dhara to help you,” Kitty said. “Doesn’t she have a degree in marketing or something? I bet she knows a lot about websites.”
“Doesn’t that all cost money?” Making a few dresses to sell at a festival was doable. But online sales and websites… The idea sounded big. She barely had any spare time now. How would she even go about doing any of that? Kitty was probably right about Dhara and her knowledge of websites. She was always showing Lauren different ideas online about the vintage clothing industry. But Dhara was looking for a job in marketing. A real job—benefits, paid vacation, and a 401K. She’d been going on two to three interviews a week. Dhara was smart and savvy. Any day now, Lauren expected her to hand in her resignation.
“You could always start small and then go big later,” Pilar suggested. “I mean, take Lilly Pulitzer. She started selling her dresses at her husband’s juice stand. And look where the company is now.”
Lauren was no Lilly Pulitzer, but Pilar had a point. Everyone had to start somewhere, right?
They finished the game and rotated to another table. Frida was partnered with Lauren for this round. “Hey,” Frida said, “Whatever happened with that building inspector?”
Lauren took a sip of her frozen margarita and shrugged. “Basically, he just went room to room and wrote a bunch of stuff down in this big note pad. Then he thanked me and left.”
Frida took this in. “You know, I think the girls have a really good idea about the online sales.” She glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. “I’m not trying to be nosy, but with our places right next to each other it’s hard not to notice things. How’s business?” She winced, like she already knew the answer to her own question.
“You’re not being nosy,” Lauren said. “I’ll be honest. Business sucks. I…guess I didn’t really take the market into consideration when I opened my shop. Just because I love vintage clothing doesn’t mean everyone else does, too. It’s a pretty high end specialty niche.” It was the first time Lauren had ever admitted that out loud.
“Have you thought of changing up the theme of the shop?”
“To a maternity store?”
Frida shrugged. “Or whatever else you might want to make. But Kitty is right. The dress you made for her is fabulous. And it has that fun retro look that you wear all the time, so it’s sort of your signature style.”
Frida’s idea had merit. But selling vintage clothing and producing your own line of design wear were two very different things.
“You know, when I told everyone I wanted to open a coffee shop they all just looked at me and said, ‘You mean like Starbucks?’ And I was like, ‘No, not like Starbucks, you twerps!’”
They both laughed.
It was true. The only thing The Bistro by the Beach and Starbucks had in common was that they both sold coffee. But the atmospheres were completely different. The Bistro, with its Florida theme, and its fun, noisy environmen
t seemed more like a bar, except without the alcohol.
“The key is making the place uniquely yours,” Frida said. “Let me ask you something. Have you ever thought about buying the building instead of renting it?”
“That would take a lot of money that I’m not sure I really want to spend,” she confided.
Frida nodded. “I get it. It’s scary. You know, there was a time when I thought I was going to go out of business. I was selling coffee and muffins, but it wasn’t enough, and I realized I had to go big, or go home. So I put everything I had in my little cafe. Win or lose. No in between. I expanded the kitchen and began serving lunch. Luckily, it all worked out for me.”
Frida had told her some of this before, but Lauren hadn’t known that The Bistro had been in danger of going out of business. It put things in a new perspective. Go big or go home. Lauren had never been a huge risk taker, but it was definitely something to think about.
*~*~*
Nate had just finished walking Hector into the building when he was accosted by both Bianca and Janie. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” they screeched. They shoved a handful of brightly wrapped gifts into his arms.
“Are these for me?” he asked, genuinely confused. Crap. He didn’t know he was supposed to bring gifts for the office staff for Valentine’s Day. Christmas, yes. But this seemed to be going a little too far. He laid the presents on his desk.
“They’re not for you, silly!” Janie squealed. “They’re for Hector.”
“Oh, of course.” Glad to know he hadn’t mucked that up.
“They’re from everyone,” Bianca said. “Ellen, and Lola and all the girls in the office chipped in. We all just adore Hector.”
At the sound of his name, Hector wagged his tail. A sliver of drool fell onto the carpet. Nice.
“Why don’t you let him open them?” Janie said.
Nate was about to suggest that they get on with their work day instead. It was eight-fifteen, and the first morning appointments were already in the waiting room. “Sure, why not?” He “helped” Hector open the gifts. It was an impressive haul—two bones, an assortment of squeaky toys and a red woolen doggie sweater with little white hearts all over it.
“Lola knit this herself,” Janie said, slipping the sweater over Hector’s head.
“Lola? Huh. I thought she didn’t like me,” Nate said.
“Oh, she doesn’t,” Bianca said, “but she loves Hector.”
“Good to know,” Nate muttered.
Ellen stuck her head in his office door. She was in her late forties, quiet, and very professional. Nate imagined that after Doc retired, she would hopefully want to stay on with him. Maybe Nate would even hire another nurse practitioner to help ease up her load. “Oh!” she cried, “Did little baby waby Hector open his gifts?” She pulled out her cell phone and snapped a picture of Hector in his sweater. “Sweet! I’m going to get this developed and put it on the break room bulletin board next to the other pictures of the staff.”
“Great idea!” Bianca said. “You should get a picture yourself, Dr. Miller, and send it to your sister. I bet she’d love to see Hector in his Valentine’s Day sweater.”
“Sure, why not?” He took out his cell and snapped Hector doing what Nate termed his classic needy Please Love Me pose. He immediately forwarded it on to Lanie on Instant Messenger. A few seconds later she sent him a big smiley face.
Ellen compared their pictures, then retook another one of Hector. “So that we can choose his best side,” she said. “Oh, I almost forgot. Bad news. Doc called in sick, so it’s you and me, buddy.”
“Again?” Nate frowned. According to Lola, Doc never called in sick, yet, he’d called in twice now in the last two months. “Is he okay?”
Ellen waved a hand in the air. “He’s fine! Just a little cold, I think.”
Lola came up behind Ellen. “Well, isn’t he sweet?” she crooned, smiling at Hector.
“Thank you for the sweater, Lola,” Nate said.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s just a little too small for you, don’t you think?”
“Thank you for Hector’s sweater,” he clarified.
Bianca and Janie tried to hide their smiles. They scooped up the wrapping paper and took off down the hallway. Nate had just finished putting Hector in his crate when Lola slapped a print out on his desk. “Frances Kiefer is in room one. She’s feeling dizzy.”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe she’d prefer to see Ellen this morning?”
“Sure, I’ll be happy to see her. She’s such a sweet lady,” Ellen said.
“No can do,” Lola said to Ellen. “You’ve got two pap smears waiting for you. Special requests. With Doc out again,” she rolled her eyes, “we need to make sure we don’t get behind.”
There were patients in the practice who felt more comfortable with a woman doing their GYN annuals. Nate didn’t blame them, but it put him in a bad spot this morning. Frances Kiefer, no doubt, had absolutely no desire to see him. Not after she’d complained to Doc about him. But he had no choice. Ellen gave Nate a helpless look and went off to see her patients.
“I’ll be in there in a minute,” he said to Lola. She nodded curtly and took off.
Nate slipped his lab coat on. His cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen and frowned. What did Jessica want? “Hello,” he said tentatively.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe!”
“Thanks. What do you want, Jessica?”
“Is that any way to greet me? It’s Valentine’s Day, Nate! Aren’t you glad I called?”
Not really. But he didn’t want to seem unfriendly. He and Jessica might be through, but there was no reason they couldn’t be cordial to one another. “How are you?” he asked. “Work going well?”
“Work is going better than well. But that’s not why I called. I have a special present for you.”
“Jessica,” he said, “we’re no longer a couple. Don’t you think getting me a gift for Valentine’s Day is inappropriate?”
“But you don’t know what it is! Go ahead and ask me. Try to guess.”
This was a particular little game of Jessica’s he despised. He’d had to play along when they were together, but there was no reason he had to do so now. “I have no idea. I’m busy, Jessica, so if you don’t plan to tell me, then I’m afraid I’ll have to say good-bye.”
“Wow. Someone’s grumpy. And I bet I can guess why. I miss you, too, babe. Horribly. I was thinking, maybe I can get on a plane tonight and we can spend the weekend together.”
He glanced at his watch. It was eight thirty six. He was officially six minutes behind schedule now. “To what purpose?”
She let out a long sigh. “God, I’ve missed that…way you have of keeping me on my toes. All right, you win. I’ll tell you what your present is. Go check out YouTube. The top six marriage proposal fails is now officially once more only top five marriage proposal fails. I got our video taken off! Isn’t that great?”
“Actually, yes, it is. Thank you.”
“Don’t you want to know how I did it?”
“By asking nicely?” he asked.
“What? Oh!” She laughed so loud that Nate had to pull the phone from his ear. He’d never heard her laugh like that before. Did she think he couldn’t tell it was fake? “That’s another thing I’ve missed! No one makes me smile like you do, Nate.”
“Jessica, I have to go. Thanks again and good luck.”
He hung up before she could get another word in. He had to say, however, he was pleased she’d gotten that video taken down. Although, God only knew who and what she’d threatened to make it happen.
He stepped out in the hallway and braced himself before entering the exam room. As per his usual custom, he knocked, waited a few seconds, then opened the door. Frances Kiefer sat on the exam table. She stiffened when she saw him.
“Good morning, Mrs. Kiefer. I’m afraid Dr. Morrison is out sick today. I hope you’ll let me take care of you in his place?”
She narrowed her eyes. “It doesn’t look like I have much choice, do I?”
He pulled out his laptop and looked over her vital signs. She’d been in the office just a few weeks ago but her blood pressure was significantly higher today. “Has there been any change in your, um, routine lately?”
“Go ahead and say it. I told you so. Right? If I’d lost weight like you told me to then I wouldn’t be in this predicament.” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest.
Nate felt momentarily stunned. Is that seriously what she thought of him? That he’d gloat because she hadn’t listened to his warnings? He decided his best course of action was to ignore the dig and carry on in his normal manner.
“Sometimes, blood pressure can be elevated for different reasons. Are you in any pain or under any extra stress lately?”
She sniffed. “No, I’m not in pain. And…no extra stress. Not really.” She glanced down at her folded hands.
“But you’ve been dizzy?” He pointed to the computer screen. “It says here under your complaint it’s the reason you came in this morning?”
She nodded. “Just a little. Sometimes. Not all the time,” she emphasized.
“All right. Let’s do some bloodwork and recheck your blood pressure in a few minutes.”
“What’s that going to do?”
“Your bloodwork will rule out diabetes and a few other things that might be causing the dizziness. Sometimes if your blood pressure is too high or too low, it can make you feel dizzy. But one blood pressure reading isn’t enough data to go on. Have you ever heard of ‘white coat’ syndrome?”
