Beth studied the ceiling above her bed. She craved sleep, but her mind replayed the ugly day over and over. She didn’t know how many more days like this she could take. When was it going to get easier? When was she going to feel like she could manage Stratton House?
It should have been a good day. The only event scheduled was a bridal shower. A simple two-hour affair. The mother of the bride had arranged for thirty guests in the ballroom. She’d requested simple flowers and said they would bring their own food: cupcakes. Stratton House would provide coffee, tea and ice water. Easy!
Not.
Because, just as the guest of honor arrived, Evelyn Trumbull marched up the front steps. Beth well remembered this local woman. Hosting her son’s wedding had been the first official event of Stratton House, and the matriarch loudly expressed disappointment with every aspect of that occasion. She harrumphed over the flowers – why such simple arrangements? Couldn’t her daughter-in-law do better? Why was the food served on plastic plates? No white china? No sterling silverware? How crass.
Now, as the young bride-to-be and her friends swarmed the foyer of Stratton House, Evelyn, hand on hip, demanded an explanation.
“Since when do you have more than one event at a time out here?”
Beth frowned and bit her lip. “Hello, Evelyn. How are you?”
“Well, I thought I was fine, but now I ain’t so sure. You are expecting my book club, aren’t you?”
Beth shook her head. “I’m sorry. Your book club?”
“Yes. I called Trina and scheduled it a week ago. Didn’t she tell you? I even made arrangements to pay.”
“Uh, please come inside. Let’s figure this out. I’ll get Trina.”
Beth herded the angry bull of a woman down the hallway and into the den. “Please, have a seat. We’re going to come up with a solution.” She gently closed the pocket doors behind her and scurried into the kitchen, desperate to find her assistant.
Trina stood by the counter, placing white cupcakes onto a crystal platter, while Myrna brewed fresh coffee and prepared a coffee urn.
“Trina,” Beth said, gesturing for her to come with her. “Did you schedule a book club with your mother-in-law?”
Trina’s jaw dropped. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“No,” Beth drawled. “No, you didn’t. And guess who’s waiting in the den?”
“Mrs. Trumbull?”
“Yes. Right again! Trina, what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I meant to tell you, but I forgot. She called and asked if she could have her book club here because they’re putting new carpet in her house. I guess it slipped my mind.”
“Did you take money from her?”
“No. She asked what it would cost, I said maybe fifty bucks. She never paid me anything. I’m sorry, Beth.”
“We’re in this together, Trina. Leave the cupcakes, grab the baby. Maybe that will soften up the old battleax. And, from now on, please, please do not book any events. That is my responsibility, as captain of the Titanic.”
With trepidation, Beth, accompanied by a drooling Baby Carrie and a cowering Trina, returned to the den. The party in the ballroom was getting loud. One guest, a slender young woman wearing a pink pastel dress, approached Beth and asked where the bridal gifts should go. Beth pointed to a table already loaded with presents.
“Beth?” the bride’s mother called.
“I’ll be right with you. One minute,” she said, gesturing for the woman to wait. When the trio entered the den, Evelyn Trumbull sat bolt upright in the chair, her arms crossed, a look of distaste plastered on her face.
“Mother Trumbull, how nice to see you,” Trina lied. “Would you like to hold the baby?” She offered the drooling infant.
At first, the baby seemed to soothe the woman’s temper. But the child did not know this woman. Baby Carrie took one look at the fierce expression on Evelyn’s face and wailed at the top of her lungs. Who is holding me? Save me now! Tears spilt from her big blue eyes, and she gestured for her mother or Beth to save her.
“Wow. I’ve never heard her cry like that,” Beth said. “I didn’t know she could.”
Trina quickly recovered the infant.
Baby Carrie’s rejection did not set well with her grandmother, and any softening of her features disappeared. Her lips set in a fierce line of disappointment and disgust. “What kind of place are you running out here?”
Calm, keep calm. “I owe you an apology. Um, Trina and I had a breakdown in communication, and I was unaware you scheduled your book club here. Although I love the idea! I think a Stratton House book club would be great.”
“This is not Stratton House’s book club. This is a Christian book club.”
“Oh. Of course. I understand. Well, we’re unprepared today. So, please tell me, do you have a caterer you’re working with, or are guests bringing food? What time does the event start?”
A knock at the door interrupted Evelyn’s answer. Myrna pushed it open a few inches, and asked, “Beth, could you help me carry the dessert tray into the ballroom?”
Coming!” Trina answered. “Just let me put the baby back in her swing, and I’ll take it.”
As Trina walked past her, Beth whispered, “Coward.”
“My book club is supposed to start in fifteen minutes,” Evelyn said, glancing at her silver wrist watch. “I just came out to make sure things were all set up, and I’m sure glad I did.”
“And do you, uh, did you plan to serve food? Did you hire a caterer?”
“No. I didn’t hire no caterer. It’s just a book club. I brought a cake, and other members are bringing desserts. Trina said serving coffee and tea wouldn’t be too inconvenient.”
“Of course not,” Beth answered. “That’s easy. We can certainly set up another coffee service. How many guests, er, readers, are you expecting?”
“This is a monthly meeting. It’s a pretty big one. Probably, twenty or so.”
“Are you serving wine? I’ve only been to one book club, and I remember the Riesling flowed freely.”
“I do not imbibe spirits, nor does any member,” Evelyn said, through gritted teeth.
“Okay. Just water, coffee and tea. Got it.”
Shrieking voices from the bridal shower infiltrated the den. “Oh my God! Edible panties. And they’re strawberry flavored!”
Beth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A memory of the Carlson wedding flashed through her mind. Not again. C’mon. Get through this!
Evelyn looked around the den. “And where exactly in this house do you propose we hold the book club? You gave away the biggest room.”
Beth took another deep breath. I will not let this woman push my buttons. “Let me show you what we have available.”
She led Evelyn to the front parlor, which looked out on the front porch, was spacious, and could easily accommodate twenty chairs in a circle. “It’s further away from the ballroom so your guests won’t be disturbed by the other event, and should be able to hear one another without shouting. We can set up the coffee stand in the far corner and place the cakes next to that. I have some fresh cut flowers. What do you think?”
Evelyn glanced around the room and a smirk replaced her scowl. “Well, I guess it will have to do.”
“Trina and I will bring in tables and linen. I’ll ask Myrna to make a centerpiece.”
“Am I still expected to pay full price?”
Beth bit her tongue. “No. Of course not, Evelyn. I’m so sorry about this mix-up. Let’s call this event a courtesy.”
Evelyn growled, “I should think so.”
Thirty minutes later, when the book club members arrived, they were greeted by Evelyn in the foyer and shown into the front parlor. As Beth retreated from the room, she looked back and felt a twinge of accomplishment. She and Trina had set up the tables, and covered them with white linen. Hot coffee and tea were served. They’d brought out white dishes on which to serve the desserts. They had just enough folding chairs to accommodate the little group. Myrna set down a small vase full of pink carnations and yellow daises that Beth had bought at the Kansas City flower mart a few days earlier. Thank goodness for that impulsive purchase.
As far as Beth could tell, the room was complete. She opened the front curtains to let in the sunshine, telling the women sitting opposite to open or close them for their comfort.
“Is there anything else I can bring you?” she asked Evelyn.
The older woman surveyed the room. “No. I think that’s everything.”
“Wonderful. Please let me know if I can help in any way,” she said, stepping into the foyer and sliding the doors closed. She let out a deep breath she hadn’t known she was holding, rolled her eyes, and went to attend to the raucous bridal shower.
In the ballroom, the bride wore a black blindfold, and was trying to pin a paper penis onto a poster-sized photograph of her groom, while members of the bridal party shouted erotic encouragements. Myrna watched from the corner, puzzled. Beth joined her.
“I’ve never heard of ‘Pin the penis on the groom’. Have you?” Myrna asked.
“Uh, no. I haven’t. At least Evelyn Trumbull isn’t here to see it.”
“Beth!”
Evelyn strode into the ballroom, her eyes widening when she saw the bride rip off the black sleeping mask and shriek, “Did I nail it?”
“What in the world?” Evelyn asked. “What is going on here?”
“A party!” Beth answered. “Did I forget something? What do you need?”
“One of my guests wondered if you might have decaf or herbal tea. You only put out black tea.”
Beth turned to Myrna, who said, “Let me go see what I can find,” and retreated to the kitchen.
Evelyn surveyed the rowdy group of young women and mothers at the shower. “Hmm… ” she said, nodding. “Kathy Lentz’s daughter. I should have known.”
Beth winkled her brows and asked, “Should have known what?”
“Well, you’re new here, but everybody knows Kathy is one of those.”
“One of what?”
Evelyn whispered, “A lesbian.”
Beth tried to fight her temper. She tried so hard. “Oh. Okay. You know, Mrs. Trumbull, I’m from Seattle. Where I’m from, we don’t whisper words like ‘lesbian.’ We’re grateful for lesbians. Without them, every woman would throw like a girl.”
Evelyn’s lips disappeared again. “I’ll show myself back to my book club.”
Two hours later, both events were over. The guests from the bridal shower were shown out first. Myrna and Beth gathered in the foyer to tell their guests good-bye. Beth opened the pocket doors to the front parlor, and, one by one, the book club members left. Evelyn was the last.
“You know, Beth, you need to be more careful about who you rent Stratton House to. You wouldn’t want the house to get a bad reputation.”
How much longer will this evil woman be here? “Evelyn, did you have a good time today? Did your book club go smoothly?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“Then that’s the only reputation I need to worry about. Stratton House isn’t just for you. It’s for everyone, including lesbians,” she said, whispering the last word.
Evelyn’s lips disappeared. “Look, you’re new here. I’m trying to help you. Good Christians won’t rent Stratton House if they know deviants come here.”
Beth took another deep breath. “Thank you for coming. Goodbye.”
Evelyn stormed off to her car.
Myrna joined Beth on the front porch. “I’ve known Evelyn Trumbull most of my life. She’s getting worse. I have to look real hard to find Christ in that Christian.”
Beth smiled and put her arm around her. With Evelyn gone, Trina came out of hiding and joined them. “I think that’s the last we’ll see of your mother-in-law, Trina,” Beth said.
“Promise?”
“Don’t you ever book an event for her again! I will fire you and kick you and that adorable baby out! That is an immediately terminable offense.”
“Won’t ever happen again, boss.”