Raindrop Blues
By
Charlie Hudson
“The least you could do is be pissed off for me,” Jenna
said in exasperation. “I’ve busted my ass for
nearly five years, came up with and presented the web design and
e-commerce support idea and Robertson hands it to this baby because
he’s the cousin of one of his frat brothers.”
She eyed the empty beer bottle trying to decide if she was more
upset with her boss, the irritating interloping thief who took a
promotion that should have been hers or Joe, who could either not
grasp why she was angry or simply didn’t give a shit that
she’d been screwed.
She ground her teeth at his banal response and quickly accepted an
excuse about not being able to have dinner together. She
managed to not slam the telephone down, crashed the bottle into the
recycle can, yanked open the refrigerator for one more beer and
speed-dialed Gino’s.
With a calorie-laden pizza on the way, Jenna sprawled onto a lumpy
cushion of a couch she’d been meaning to replace for a
year. A new couch would mean a new chair and it’s not
like the coffee table was in great shape either, but hell, they fit
the air of the apartment that must have been new once upon a
time. She’d taken it during a shortage of decent places
in her budget range and not that her budget had increased as it
should have, but there was a new complex nearby that she could
afford. On the other hand, if she and Joe did ever actually
make a long term commitment, she would move to his two bedroom
place or they’d go somewhere else, so why move twice?
She clicked on the television, fatigued from job, apartment,
boyfriend. Her thirty-first birthday dangling at the end of
the month didn’t exactly help either. Shit, this was
not where she was supposed to be at this point. She swigged
her beer. Well, at least she could afford craft brews, her
frizz-less strawberry blonde hair didn’t require color
infusions yet, she still wore a size eight and her silver Mustang
convertible was paid for. She channel surfed past a
popular romantic comedy movie and settled on a dinosaur
special. The graphics were high quality and flesh-ripping,
carnivorous creatures doomed to extinction fit her mood.
Her resentment was manageable by the next morning when she whipped
a brush through naturally curly hair, an enviable trait that
allowed a short, sassy cut without needing a perm.
“Okay, let’s see some resolve in these blue
babies,” she lectured her image. “You’re
not going to let the assholes get you down. You’re only
three courses away from a degree in Multimedia Design. You be
a good little worker, don’t antagonize the college whiz-kid,
keep building up contacts and then you’re out of there as
fast as you can go.”
Her deceptively youngish face and pale brown freckles across a
too-cute nose were part of why people tended to not take her
seriously. Not to mention that at five foot three, she
wasn’t what you’d call an intimidating presence.
Phil Robertson Senior hadn’t cared about her quasi-adult
appearance. He recognized her talent and treated her no
differently than he did the older employees when she’d hired
on as a graphics intern. She didn’t blame him for
turning the business over to his oldest son, but the work climate
was far different from when she began. Well, at least she
wasn’t stuck in clock-punching factory work like during
summers in high school. No one could call her lazy even if an
associate degree from community college couldn’t match Phil
Robertson Junior’s MBA.
“Oh, quit your bitching and get moving,” her image
commanded.
She didn’t bother with eye makeup during the day and selected
an outfit of forest green twill slacks, a green, navy and white
striped wrinkle-resistant cotton blend long-sleeve shirt and
cushiony navy flats. Crisply professional, yet comfortably
casual.
Traffic was no worse than usual and Jenna took to side streets when
the radio reported a multi-car fender bender up ahead. She
stopped for a large latte and was still in the office early.
As one of the first tenants of the three-story concrete and glass
building, they had half the ground floor and despite her disgust
about the promotion, Jenna liked her L-shaped cubicle. Phil
Robertson Senior had seen to it that everyone had ample, if only
semi-private, space in the large outer office. The graphics
production area behind double doors was ergonomically laid out with
late generation machines. A small conference room and two
glassed fronted private offices lined the right wall. While
the refrigerator, sink and microwave tucked into a back corner
could hardly be called a break room, there was the coffee shop, a
deli and an excellent Thai restaurant within the block.
Jenna logged on to her computer and grimaced when she saw a
calendar entry that slipped her mind in her fury the day
before. Edna Wilson, at 11 a.m., to discuss start-up web
support for Premium Pet Care. It looked to be a small
account, with probably no more than one or two employees. Mr.
Hotshot should have been meeting with Ms. Wilson, but he obviously
felt no need to deal with minor accounts. Jenna shrugged away
thoughts of a woman surrounded by cats or yappy little dogs and
focused instead on a poster design for an Irish pub scheduled to
open before Saint Patrick’s Day.
Jenna was buzzed at 11:02 and she walked up front to meet Ms.
Wilson.
“Jenna McCree, Ms. Wilson. I hope your trip in was
okay.”
“It’s Edna if we’re going to be working together
and I made good time.”
Her voice was lower-pitched than Jenna expected. Early
fifties most likely with an open smile and outdoorsy look.
Short black hair sprinkled evenly with gray, sun baked wrinkles
around brown eyes fringed by thick, straight lashes, a wide mouth
and a nose just large enough to be out of proportion to her
face. No trace of makeup and she was wearing sensible black
loafers with a pair of gray slacks, a pale blue turtle neck and an
unbuttoned charcoal blazer. No jewelry except tiny turquoise
ball earrings and a tan leather strapped watch. Her handshake
was brisk and she obviously didn’t spend money on
manicures. Jenna led her to the conference room after she
declined the offer of a drink.
Edna dropped her purse and black soft-sided briefcase onto a chair
and looked quizzically at Jenna who sat across the table, notepad
ready.
“Do you have a pet?”
“Uh no, but my father had a pair of hunting dogs if that
counts.”
Edna cocked her head. “Bet they weren’t allowed
in the house.”
Jenna wasn’t sure where the conversation was going.
“No, although they were well taken care of.”
Edna pointed to her briefcase. “Look, I don’t
fool around with a lot of small talk. Here’s the deal.
I was raised on a farm where cats roamed around to catch
mice and the hunting dogs stayed in their pen. Got into the
pet care business right out of high school and I’ve watched
the industry change into something pretty amazing.”
“How’s that?”
“A steady increase into billions of consumer dollars.
When I started out as a vet’s assistant, who the hell would
have imagined a pet superstore, much less pet massages.”
“Pet massages? Is that what Premium Pet Care
does?” Jesus, she was going to have a hard time keeping
a straight face.
Edna shook her head with an amused grin. “No, I was
using that as an example of what people are willing to spend money
on. The way I figure it though, if Americans shell out thirty
billion dollars a year on their pets, who am I to object?”
Jenna was startled. Was it really that much? “I
am a little surprised at the amount and I gather you want to expand
your business and set up a web site?” Was this going to
be handcrafted doggie sweaters and cat play toys?
“I want to do more than that. For reasons that
aren’t important, I gave up a grooming and boarding service
last year and spent the past few months doing market
research.” She tilted her head toward her briefcase and
continued. “The old-fashioned kind in the
library. Not being Internet-savvy is why I’m
here. I want a web site and an entire web-based business with
an extensive menu of pet services for busy owners; the kind with
more money than time. My plan is to start right here in the
city and see how it goes. I need to know how the hell this
stuff works though. A friend of mine at the Art Museum
recommended you.”
Jenna spent the next half hour describing their capabilities and
procedures. Edna understood enough about e-commerce to ask
pertinent questions.
The older woman glanced at her watch. “Look, I have
another appointment, but I like what you’ve said so
far. I made an extra copy of my business plan to leave with
you. I’ll give you a call tomorrow afternoon and
we’ll decide if we can be of mutual benefit to each
other.”
Jenna walked her out. Small or not, another client was
another client. When she turned, Phil Junior crooked a
beckoning finger to his office. She stopped just inside the
doorway and leaned against the jam, ignoring the chair he indicated
across from his contemporary style executive desk.
His ash blonde hair and green eyes were more like his mother, but
he had Phil Senior’s square jawed face. If his asshole
personality was hereditary, it had to be a recessive gene though.
He cleared his throat and smiled unconvincingly.
“Jenna, I know my decision probably came as a surprise
yesterday and I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to talk
to you before hand. I consider you a valued employee, but
I’ve made no secret of the fact I’m more forward
looking than my father was. Despite our growth in the past, I
feel we can do better.”
Jenna kept her face as neutral as possible. “Oh, you
mean like expanding into web design, support and e-commerce
assistance for clients.”
He widened his grin and Jenna irreverently thought of the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. “Exactly and I’m
aware you did a lot of the legwork on that, which I appreciate and
will certainly remember at bonus time. As a team player,
I’m sure I can depend on you to give Randy all the support he
needs.”
So that was it. She busts her ass to develop the concept and
line up three solid clients which get snatched out from under her
and Phil Junior wants her to pretend it doesn’t matter.
“Phil, I started here with your Dad and hold him in high
regard. I hope you’re as committed to upward
progression for employees as he was.”
Phil’s face tightened, although Jenna couldn’t tell if
it was irritation or confusion with her phrasing. “Of
course, of course and with the way we’re poised to go, I
would expect everyone on the team to enjoy the company’s
success. I’m sure you understand we have to pace
ourselves with that.”
The telephone rang to Phil’s pathetically visible relief.
“Well, I’m glad we had this talk.
Don’t hesitate to step up with any new ideas you have.
My door is always open,” he said as he reached for the
receiver.
Jenna lifted a hand in a noncommittal acknowledgement and backed
out, refusing to let anger show. What a crock of shit!
Team this, team that! Come up with good ideas so he can give
the credit to someone else! The next damn idea she brought to
him would be her resignation.
She refrained from stalking to her cubicle, dropped Edna’s
business plan on her desk and checked her voice mail in response to
the blinking red light.
She nearly ripped the cord loose at Joe’s message.
“Hey look, I know you’ve had the concert tickets for a
while, but I have to go to Norfolk for two weeks and I leave
tomorrow morning. We’ll go somewhere tonight.
Call me when you get this.”
Well, damn. A week like she was having and now this! It
was short notice even though she could probably find someone.
Christ, she’d been looking forward to a night out, not the
hassle of calling around seeking a companion. This was the
third out-of-town job Joe had been on in as many months. What
was the deal?
She sighed audibly enough to release some of her tension.
Screw it. She’d take a full hour’s lunch break
for a change. Maybe a plate of spicy Thai chicken curry would
improve her outlook.
The walk to The Lemon Grass, friendly service and the extra hot
version of the meal at least distracted her. She reached her
best friend, Jillian, who shrieked with delight about the concert.
They hadn’t seen each other much since Jillian’s
wedding eight months prior but her husband was going to a stag
party and she was ready for a girls’ night out.
Marginally mollified, Jenna finished the Irish pub poster layout
and decided on Ryan’s Grill for dinner. It was one of
Joe’s favorites and it’s not like he was much on
candlelit, romantic places.
When she drove into work the next day, she mentally replayed the
evening’s events and realized that neither she nor Joe had
displayed much emotion at the idea of another separation.
Were her feelings for him disappearing like a dream interrupted by
a morning alarm clock? Or was their never wildly passionate
relationship stalling to a point she could no longer pretend
otherwise? It wasn’t something Jenna wanted to think
about and she settled at her desk to read Edna’s documents
instead.
“Damn, this is great stuff,” she said softly.
Edna’s research may have been done by spending hours in a
library, yet her results looked solid. More than three
hundred millions pets among sixty-two percent of U.S.
households? Okay, Jenna was familiar with Christmas stockings
stuffed with doggie treats, but my God, electric tooth brushes for
dogs, feline spas with herbal catnip in tea bags and leather pet
carriers with cell phone and water bottle holders? The
concept of Premium Pet Care was to target busy professionals who
nonetheless wanted the best for their pet. For a fee, Edna
would arrange for in-home care, access to pet advice and a list of
other services. She apparently had an extensive network of
local providers she could tap into and Jenna quickly estimated
compatible web site links. Even if Edna started as modestly
as she was proposing, the business had incredible growth
potential. Start-up capital details were merely noted as not
an issue. Of course that could mean Edna didn’t have a
clue on the financial end, but that was hardly the impression
she’d given. No, there were definite possibilities to
Premium Pet Care.
Jenna was making preliminary sketches when Edna called.
“Hi. I’m not trying to rush you, but I had to
come into town for something else and thought I’d check to
see if you read the business plan.”
“Sure did and if I remember your statement from yesterday, I
think we can certainly be of mutual benefit to each other.
When can you come by the office?”
There was a slight hesitation and the sound of paper being
shuffled. “If you’d be willing to meet me for
lunch at Galloway’s, we could talk it over. I’d
buy and it would fit my schedule better.”
A working lunch with a client. That was a change for
her. “Okay, I haven’t been there in ages.
What time?”
The horse and hound décor in the old brick and wooden beamed
restaurant hadn’t been replaced with a new theme and Edna was
waiting at a corner table when Jenna arrived. The older woman
smiled and motioned to the draft beer in front of her.
“I trust you’re not a teetotaler.”
“No, but if I have one of those at noon, I might fall asleep
at my desk.” Jenna ordered ice tea and a crab cake
sandwich platter. The waitress had barely turned away when
Jenna launched into her thoughts on how they could enhance
Edna’s goals.
Edna nodded, amended some ideas and tabled others as they devoured
perfectly seasoned, sautéed lump crab meat on a soft roll
accompanied by spicy, skin-on curly fries. Jenna almost
regretted turning down a beer.
“Okay, I think we’ve got a good plan to start.
Let’s have coffee if you don’t mind and tell me a
little about yourself.”
Jenna was startled. “Oh. Well, there’s not
a lot to tell.”
Edna’s eyes were steady. “This is an important
step for me and so far, I like your style. I’d like to
know some more about you though.”
Jenna stayed on safe ground of her fascination with graphics, her
appreciation of e-commerce, her flexibility in dealing with
clients. Be assertive, not aggressive. Be confident,
not arrogant. Emphasize skill. Make sure the
potential client feels important to the company. Phil
Senior’s oft-repeated instructions weren’t difficult to
remember.
Edna didn’t probe into personal matters, although the absence
of a wedding band on her own hand and no mention of children meant
she was probably divorced or never married. Perhaps she
picked up the same signals from Jenna.
“Thanks for meeting me,” she said as they refused a
second cup of coffee. “If you’ll draw up a
contract, I’ll come by Monday afternoon to sign and look at
your initial designs. You go ahead and I’ll take care
of the check.”
Jenna shook her head. “You’re a new client
who’s going to be a real addition for us. Let me get
lunch.”
Edna made a shooing motion with one hand. “Next time.
This one’s on me.”
Jenna thanked her again and returned to the office in time to find
a note from Phil Junior denying her request for financial
reimbursement for her next college course. Disapproved. No immediate return to the
company. PR, Jr. She ground her teeth and shoved
the note in a bottom drawer. That son-of-a-bitch! He
knew good and well his father took pride in helping employees with
technical or college training. He always bragged about being
one of the few small business owners who provided the
benefit. Christ, how could a son be so different from a
father? Alien pod-creatures or changeling theory might be
reasonable explanations. Well, shit. At least she had a
new account lined up and the concert on Friday.
On Monday, the weather reflected Jenna’s mood; gloomily
overcast and intermittent showers. The fun with Jillian had
segued into tequila shooters which pretty well wiped out Saturday
with hangover recovery. That meant Sunday was consumed with
domestic tasks and when she tried to reach Joe, all she got was his
voice mail and no return call. Snarled traffic added to her
utter lack of desire to face the office. A raindrop blues day
as her grandmother used to say. If it wasn’t for her
appointment with Edna, she would turn around and phone in
sick.
Fortunately, the creative part of her brain kicked in somewhere
after the first latte. She did a quick story board and roamed the
web finding immediate, near-term and future linking possibilities
to complement Edna’s local plans for Perfect Pet Care.
Edna called a little after noon to say she was running late and
would it be terribly inconvenient for Jenna to bring everything to
the airport Marriott at four o’clock? She had to make
an unexpected trip and wanted to sign the contract before she
left. She’d be in the lobby bar.
Oh why not? It was on Jenna’s way home and a good
excuse to leave early.
As with the first restaurant meeting, Edna was already seated in
back sipping a draft beer with the head still frothed. Jenna
noticed the dark red leather chairs and small round tables were
grouped to permit discreet discussions. The area was only a
third full, but Jenna assumed it would pick up when the five
o’clock crowd rolled in.
She leaned her portfolio case against the leg of the table and slid
into the empty chair. The waiter appeared within seconds and
Jenna nodded to Edna’s draft. “The local pale
ale, please.” She’d seen the logo on the taps at
the bar.
Edna smiled, a look on her face Jenna couldn’t quite
identify. “My apologies for asking you to do
this. There are some loose ends I have to tie up from my
mother’s estate. Everything should have been settled a
couple of months ago.” She took another sip and her
voice softened. “My father died last year and my mother
was diagnosed with cancer not long afterwards. I spent the
last eight months living with her. That’s why I sold
my first business.”
“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.” Both
parents within a year. That had to have been tough. The
waiter set the frosted pint glass on a coaster.
“They were in their late seventies, but thank you for the
sentiment. If you don’t mind, let’s just talk for
a moment before we get to the paperwork.”
“Sure, but I would like to say it’s been a productive
afternoon. As we discussed before, your business plan looks
great for the twenty-mile radius you’ve mapped out and I
found a robust number of pet product and service related sites that
we’ll be able to link you into when you’re ready.
Your clients will have access to everything from custom pet
furniture to genealogy searches for the animal shelter kitten that
actually has a royal lineage.”
“I admit that’s one I hadn’t thought of.”
Jenna tried to smother a smile and raised her hand in solemn
oath. “Comes complete with fancy certificate suitable
for framing. Some lady in Minnesota, although I’ve
forgotten the exact name of her service. It will be an easy
click away for clients who want that little extra or a great gift
idea for someone who really does have everything.”
“Nothing like good old American entrepreneurship.”
Edna cocked her head. “Listen, I don’t
want to seem abrupt, but my impression is that you may not be
particularly well utilized in your job.”
Jenna halted the movement of the glass to her mouth. Shit,
what had she said?
“It’s not that you said anything about it.”
Edna’s gaze was invitingly warm. “Please remember
that I’ve spent a career around animals and they don’t
talk much. You tend to sharpen observation skills to
compensate and it spills over into your dealings with people.
Each time I’ve spoken with you, you’ve been enthusiasm
and you’re comfortable with technical questions.
I’ve also sensed what appears to be some level of internal
conflict about your company. I hope you don’t take my
comments unkindly.”
Jenna fought against registering shock. Christ, what an
unsettlingly accurate assessment. How in the hell was she
supposed to respond?
Edna tapped her fingers together in a pyramid. “Look,
I’m not trying to embarrass you. In fact, I’ve
given it quite some thought over the weekend and I’d like to
alter my proposal somewhat. It’s a good thing and if
you say no, I’ll sign the contract anyway,” she said
quickly, picked up her beer and waited.
Jenna was glad to hear her voice sounded normal. “Okay,
I’m a little confused and yes, intrigued. To answer
your question, I started in the company with the founder who was a
truly wonderful man. He recently retired to Florida and his
son is in charge now. Let’s just say we’re going
through a period of transition.”
Edna’s eyes crinkled in unspoken amusement. “I
understand. All right, here’s my situation. I
actually approached three other companies before yours and was not
the least bit impressed with their attitude. You, on the
other hand, have reacted in a positive way from the
beginning. On a more important note, the young lady who was
going to be my primary assistant, the one who has the computer
knowledge I lack, is a newly-wed and her husband was notified
he’s being transferred to Colorado. While I’m
happy for them, it does put me in a bind.”
Jenna felt her forehead pucker.
“I feel very strongly about this business and I’m
fortunate enough to have adequate capital to manage well for a year
or two, although I anticipate showing a healthy profit fairly
quickly, especially if you’re correct with what you explained
about advertising,” Edna continued calmly. “My
parents sold most of their farm acreage years ago and the house I
inherited is paid off. I converted one section into a home
office and the young lady who will soon be leaving took care of
computer connectivity. I don’t know what everything is
for, but have been assured I am well wired for e-commerce. I
also have a very nice studio apartment over the detached
garage. It’s where I lived until my mother died.”
“Edna, are you offering me a job?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t really know anything about me.”
Jenna searched the woman’s face for a punch line; a gotcha grin. This was crazy.
Edna shrugged. “I’m not going to say I’ve
never made a mistake about someone’s character – I have
a nasty divorce in my youthful past to prove it. I’m
not usually wrong, however, and I have a good feeling about
you. I merely mentioned the apartment because I don’t
know that I’ll be able to immediately match your current
salary and having a free place to live can significantly reduce
your income requirements. Part of the deal is that I’m
talking a ten percent share of the company profits for the first
eighteen months and then we’ll renegotiate.
That’s no buy-in from you except your talent. You help
me grow it and we both make money.”
“My immediate salary isn’t that great,” Jenna
said before she could stop herself. She clutched the beer
glass tighter than was necessary to keep her hand from shaking.
“Does that mean you’re interested?”
Jenna inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “When would
you want an answer?”
“I can’t do much about looking for a new assistant
until I return from my trip Thursday. I figure if you
can’t make a decision by that time, you and I wouldn’t
be able to work closely together anyway.” Her half
smile wasn’t judgmental.
“That’s fair. Oh, I made a packet for you to take
on the plane.” Jenna eased the rigid posture
she’d snapped into and extracted the folder from her
portfolio. It was a damn fine piece of work if she did say so
herself.
The waiter approached again and Edna scrawled across her hand.
“That’s the kind of initiative I’m talking
about,” she said and transferred the folder to her briefcase
without looking at it. “I have an answering machine at
home. Leave a message when you decide and don’t
worry. Even if you prefer to stay where you are, you have the
account.”
Jenna stood, gave a twenty to the waiter and shook hands with Edna
as he made change. “Thanks for a very interesting
discussion.”
“I know it will be a leap,” Edna said. “If
I’m right though, you’re about due for a change.”
Jenna waited to exit until Edna was out of sight. She looked
up to see a swath of blue battling gray clouds for air space.
She concentrated on traffic during the drive to her apartment and
didn’t let herself think about Edna’s offer until she
changed into a loose pair of jeans and a baggy cotton
sweater. She switched on a travel special about the Bahamas,
turned the volume to low and sipped a Diet Sprite.
Of course she should turn Edna down. Having a pleasant lunch
with someone was a hell of a lot different than working
side-by-side every day. Plus if she walked out on Phil
Junior, she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to crawl back
if she was wrong about Edna’s chances for success. Her
plan to quit was based on a longer timeline than the end of the
month.
She focused on the television where a pair of scuba divers plunged
into blue-green water. They were surrounded by colorful fish
and the female diver moved her arm to point out a large sea
turtle. When it gracefully departed, they approached a big
spiny lobster waving long antennae at the intruders. A
trip to the Caribbean, with or without going underwater, was high
on her wish list once she finished her degree and had a better
paying job with room to move up.
Wasn’t that what Edna was offering now, not later? A
chance unfettered by office politics; an opportunity to genuinely
flex her talent? Hadn’t her anger at Phil Junior been
because he denied her the very kind of opportunity Edna was holding
out? But where was the safety net? What if she was
wrong in her predictions for the business? She smiled
involuntarily when she remembered Phil Senior’s tales of his
early beginnings with only him and his wife; his miniscule budget,
cramped office and determination to be his own boss.
And Joe? She’d be within a forty-five minute drive,
although that probably wouldn’t help a relationship that
seemed to be steadily fraying. Damn, what had happened to
them anyway? Her eyes were drawn to the silent telephone that
held no greeting from him. Did she honestly think they had a
future together? Maybe they hadn’t even when it was
new, fun and definitely better sex.
The television scene shifted topside to a reddish-orange sun slowly
tracking downward toward the water. Clouds transformed into
purples and pinks. The shimmering ball sank from sight and
the camera panned to a waterfront bar with tiny white lights
outlining wooden rails of a beachside deck. Laughing couples
clad in tropical attire sipped umbrella-festooned, fancy drinks.
She felt her shoulders relax as she watched the spectacle and
grinned at their camaraderie. Oh, what the hell. She
had three days before she owed Edna an answer.
*******
“Is it in there?” Jenna wanted to grab the
magazine Edna held tantalizingly out of reach.
“Center section, two pages complete with a very nice photo
layout. I got top billing, but there’s a long section
on you. Did you know we were a customer-focused, insightful
company with a keen appreciation for needs of today’s
multi-tasking pet owners?”
Jenna liked the phrasing. “I couldn’t have said
it better my self. May I please read the whole
thing?”
Edna pulled her other hand from behind her back and slid a printed
sheet of paper inside the magazine before she relinquished
it.
Jenna raised her eyebrows, eager to see the coveted text.
Being named Number Seven on the Annual Top Ten New Businesses in
the State was something to be excited about.
“What’s that?”
“Your e-ticket and hotel reservations for a five-day stay at
a terrific resort in the Bahamas.”
Jenna stared at her. “What?” Was she so
giddy she was hallucinating?
Edna laughed. “You’ve just abut worked yourself
into exhaustion for over a year with barely a day off, much less a
vacation. You deserve it and we can afford it. The
reservations are for next month, but you can change the dates and
don’t bother to argue. Molly and I can hold things
together for a few days.”
Jenna stroked the slick cover and fingered the protruding paper,
almost afraid to pull it out. “This is
unbelievable. I would tell you it’s too much on top of
everything else, but to be honest, I’ve always wanted to go
to the Caribbean.”
“I know, I’ve heard you talk about it. Look, I
don’t care if it is only eleven o’clock, I’m
headed to the store for a bottle of champagne. Don’t
get smudges on the article; we’ll frame it later.”
Jenna waited until Edna was gone and allowed herself a noisy whoop
of congratulations. With that out of her system, she flipped
open the magazine and lingered for a moment on a swimsuit ad.
She would need a new one for her trip.
The End
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