You are currently browsing the monthly archive for August 2009.
I’m interrupting the usual story to announce that I’m an aunt for the first time! Kelsie had her baby and it’s a GIRL! All Croziers are flabbergasted, of course, as this breaks the pattern completely. It was wonderful to get to meet her at the hospital last night with the rest of the family. Her name is Isla June.
In other news, we’re in the middle of moving this week so no story until next week.
“So do you play classical music in the gallery because you believe it’s a more sophisticated atmosphere for viewing art?” asked Brad, the suave lawyer who had been annoying Blythe ever since he had moved into Edmonds. He leaned over the counter to give Blythe a sexy look. A vision of Zoolander’s “Blue Magnum” flashed through her mind and made her laugh.
“What’s funny?” He asked. Blythe’s smile disappeared. The CD playing over the gallery speakers featured Debussy piano music. Right now it was playing a movement called “Reflets dans l’eau” – so soothing you could easily imagine the rippling reflections on a lake.
“I play classical music because I like it,” she said and shuffled some papers loudly, hoping he would clue in to the fact that she was busy prepping the next email newsletter to send out.
“So you actually enjoy classical music or do you feel like you have to like it?” He twirled a pen lazily through his fingers. Probably trying to show off his perfectly manicured hands, thought Blythe. She sighed.
“Yes, I actually enjoy classical music,” she said, “It’s very inspiring and allows me to get into my right brain easily when I’m painting. I can find classical music to fit any mood I’m in and there aren’t any words to intrude.”
Brad stopped leaning on the counter, stood up straight and clapped.
“Very admirable,” he said, “I can’t say I know anybody else who actually likes classical music. Most of us just pretend to appreciate it because we feel we have to.”
“Well then you’re really missing out,” said Blythe, “I just wish I could remember the titles and composers.”
“You need a music appreciation class!” said Brad, “I had to take one in high school. Worst class ever but we got a lot of jokes out of ‘Air on a G String’.” He paused, obviously waiting for Blythe to laugh. She raised her eyebrows. I’m sorry, she thought, I don’t actually think high school boy humour is funny. The CD had moved on to the next track, intensely fast-paced and building in tension.
Brad seemed to get the point.
“Well,” he said, “I’ve got to get rolling. You and me – dinner sometime soon? This Friday? How about 7:00 p.m.?”
He made it sound like it was a given that they would be going out. Blythe gulped for a second and then replied automatically,
“I don’t close the gallery until 8:00, sorry.”
“Well, 8:00 p.m. then?” He flashed another signature smile at her. Blythe squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry Brad, I am not at all interested in going out for dinner with you.” She gasped. Had that actually come out of her mouth? Had she really just said that to the handsome lawyer standing in front of her? She had! She wanted to jump for joy. She had done it! Brad suddenly didn’t look so suave or sexy anymore. His face was turning red.
“Excuse me?” he said, his voice starting to rise right along with the music.
“Brad,” she said quickly, “You heard me. I am sorry but I am not interested in dating you. Please leave now.” The second time it was easier to say, but he looked like he would choke.
“I can’t believe it,” he sputtered, “How could you not . . . ? Why would you not . . . ?”
Blythe shrugged and looked at him sympathetically.
“Sorry Brad, I’m looking for someone else.” The piano came down in a series of chords as if to put several sets of punctuation on the end of her sentence. Brad pulled himself back together and held up his hands in mock defeat.
“Alright,” he said, “I give up. I’m really sorry you’ll be missing out.” He turned around and walked out. Blythe collapsed back in her chair, exhausted from the effort of saying no.
“Are you ok?” asked Jacki, coming into the gallery with Josh. Josh paused to start looking at the paintings, while Jacki walked up to Blythe.
“Oh, hi,” said Blythe, “yeah, I’m great, actually!”
“You’re as white as a sheet!” said Jacki, “Josh and I are just out on a walk after dinner.”
“I’m fine, really I am,” Blythe said, “I feel like I just passed the exam for Rejection 101.”
“Oh really?” asked Jacki, leaning in over the counter like Brad had done, just a few minutes earlier, “That sounds juicy. Was it the guy we passed coming in?”
“Yes,” said Blythe, “I’m not interested in him but he’s been hanging around for weeks and randomly asking me out. At first I always managed to just say I was busy but I finally told him I wasn’t interested.” She paused.
“I still can’t believe I actually did it!” she said.
“Good for you,” said Jacki, “Did he take it ok?”
“Oh, he’ll be fine,” said Blythe scornfully, “by tomorrow, he’ll have moved on to making some other woman believe he’s God’s gift to women. He’ll end up pitying me for being so stupid as to pass up an opportunity like himself.”
Josh finally walked over to the counter as well.
“By the way, I love the Debussy,” he said, “I’m a huge fan of his work.”
Josh put on his shoes and flexed his fingers as he prepared to leave the house. It was the weekend of August 14-16th – an important weekend in the Edmonds yearly calendar, featuring the annual festival called “Taste of Edmonds.” Hundreds of vendors from restaurants all over the region participated, as well as some non-culinary companies.
Josh’s chiropractic clinic had a booth at the festival every year where they did free spinal evaluations and mini-massages. New to Edmonds and the clinic, Josh was preparing to leave for his first four hour shift helping at the booth.
“Well, here goes nothing,” he said to a sleepy Jacki, who shrugged sympathetically from her spot on the couch.
“I haven’t done any massage since the few courses I had to take when I was getting certified as an athletic trainer! I can’t believe they had to resort to using me.”
The clinic had five part-time massage therapists but only one had been available for the weekend, even though all of them had been working at the clinic several years and knew the event happened annually. Josh thought that was a bad sign.
He kissed Jacki on the way out the door and set out up the hill. It was a cool morning for August and he thought hopefully that it even looked like it could rain. By the time he got to Main street, he was grateful that he hadn’t driven over. Car lined every side street he passed and the event hadn’t even officially started yet.
“Hey Josh, glad you made it,” said Josh’s boss Dr. Melli when he found their booth. She smiled at him and handed him a rolled up banner.
“Can you put this up in the corner there?” She pointed. Josh frowned. No one would see the banner in the back corner of the booth. It was black and would be in shadow. Apparently the office manager, Julie, was thinking the same thing.
“No,” she said to Dr. Melli, “It definitely needs to go on the outside of the tent here!” Josh frowned again. No one would see it there either – it looked like the main foot traffic walked past the other side! He opened his mouth but shut it again when he saw the look on Dr. Melli’s face. He backed away to let the two women fight it out. Eventually the banner was hung in the darkest corner of the booth.
She’s the boss, Josh thought, no big deal. Twenty minutes later, he had been asked to move the massage chair to three different spots before it was in the right spot, then another mini-duel had been fought about how to display the brochures and how to organize the scheduling binder. Dr. Melli kept asking questions like, “Where are the pens? What about a stapler? Why didn’t anyone bring the a stapler? Why do we only have two clipboards? We always need at least five!”
“Jacki, nobody organized anything!” he moaned later, as he lay on the couch, icing his thumbs, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but they should have planned this out way ahead of time! The whole thing was a disaster.”
He closed his eyes. When he opened the again, Jacki had a smug grin on her face.
“Didn’t they have anyone who was in charge of the event?” Jacki asked.
“Apparently not,” Josh said, “Julie says all the necessary information lives only in Dr. Melli’s head. So planning the event only happens when Dr. Melli has time to think about, which unfortunately wasn’t very much.”
“But if they’ve been doing the event for years, why doesn’t someone else write everything down so they can reference a planning manual next year?”
Josh grinned at Jacki.
“But that would be too easy, Jacki.” He laughed, and shook his head mockingly, “Way too logical.”
She laughed too and didn’t say, “It’s just common sense,” the way she usually did.
“How did the massages go?” she asked, changing the subject, “Did you feel like you did okay?”
“Oh yeah,” said Josh, “when it’s only five minutes, it’s a cinch. And one person even told me that my five minute massage was better than the one-hour one they had two days ago,”
“Wow,” said Jacki, “You must be really good.” She sounded wistful but there was something in her tone that suddenly made Josh suspicious.
“So would I have to pay you $15 an hour,” she said, looking up at the ceiling, “to actually get a back massage once in awhile?”
Josh groaned.
“I should have seen that coming,” he rolled his eyes, “I give you back rubs.”
Jacki raised an eyebrow,
“Maybe once a quarter,” she said sternly. Then she smiled,
“Don’t worry, babe, I’ll let you off the hook for tonight.”
Josh lifted his now-frozen thumbs out of the ice packs and gave her two thumbs-ups.
“My thumbs thank you,” he said. Jacki rolled her eyes.
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