Later that day,
Harriet sat at her desk in her office, aka the guest bedroom, tapping a mechanical pencil against her forehead. Every time she let her mind wander, Harriet saw Josie’s captivating green eyes and thought about the way Josie’s laughter had filled Harriet’s ears with goodness. Harriet let out a puff of air. “She’s a spin doctor. Don’t forget that,” she said aloud as if she needed to hear the words, not just think them.
On the other hand, Josie would probably have insight about setting up a podcast. Harriet knew one thing about the possibility of podcasting: she needed help. If she had any desire to turn the business around, she’d have to leave her digital dinosaur ways in the past and step out into the unknown. The idea of her interviews reaching a broader audience was more than intriguing. Each person’s story was a stich in human history and deserved to be known.
First, though, she needed to finish crafting a crossword for an upcoming edition of The
Chronicles
.
Her cousin rang on Skype.
Before Camilla could say anything, Harriet asked, “What’s a five-letter word for cute?”
“Why not just say cute?”
“Because I can’t supply the word cute
and have it also be the answer,” Harriet explained, not for the first time, to her cousin, who enjoyed telling Harriet she’d never attempted to solve a crossword in her life. How were they even related?
“What are you—oh, you’re working on next week’s crossword puzzle. Now, I’m following.” Camilla switched gears. “Are you coming to London soon?”
“I haven’t considered a trip there. Is there a reason I should?”
“For someone who used to hobnob with who’s who, you’re remarkably ambivalent about life these days.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.” Harriet used the pencil to scratch an itch in between her shoulder blades, doing her best not to think about a certain someone’s green eyes.
“What about Christmas? Surely you’ll be here then.”
“It hasn’t really pinged my radar yet. Are you planning a brunch or something?”
“No. Why do you ask?” Camilla snapped her fingers. “Oh, I know. Saucy. Or sassy. How about the saucy minx?”
Harriet swept some blonde hair out of her eyes. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“A five-letter word for cute. Isn’t that what you asked?”
“Right. Can’t use saucy minx, though. I only have five spaces.” Harriet tapped the pencil against her forehead again. “Sassy would work.” She filled in the letters. “Now I need a clue about being unlucky.”
“Unlucky how?” Camilla leaned closer to the camera, making her head comically large.
“Just unlucky, I guess.” Harriet had been thinking of Josie’s comment ever since they parted this morning.
“I need more. Do you mean unlucky in life? Love? Getting struck by lightning? Hit by a bus? The list is endless.”
“Love is too obvious,” Harriet said, not addressing the other types Cam listed.
“Right. You want to drive crossword lovers insane. I’ve never understood the appeal. I’d rather bang my head against the wall.”
“Words were never your thing,” Harriet said absently, her mind still puzzling out a clue.
“They get me in trouble. Just the other night—”
“That would work for nine down.” Harriet penciled in the word bard
.
“What would?”
“Bard for wordsmith.”
“That has nothing to do with unlucky.” Cam pitched her hands in the air, but only the tips of the fingers were visible on the screen.
“I know, but when I said words, it spurred this clue. The crossword muse works in mysterious ways, but I never question her. It’s better to go with it.”
“Are you even listening to me?” Camilla crossed her arms.
“No. Was I supposed to?” Harriet bantered. “It would be helpful if you gave me a signal for the important bits I should pay attention to. Some of us actually have work to do.”
“I’m starting to figure out why you’re alone. Women don’t like being ignored.”
“If that’s the case, why do you keep calling me?” Harriet sipped from the glass bottle of her daily juice consisting of apple, carrot, lemon, ginger, and turmeric. She banished the guilt of purchasing the juice instead of buying all the ingredients and making it herself. If her business didn’t pick up soon, she’d have to forego this luxury and a few others. Another reason to enlist Josie’s help in setting up a podcast. Harriet’s juice habit.
“You’re family. The blood flowing in our veins gives me permission to annoy the shit out of you.”
“Mission accomplished.” Harriet jabbed the air with her pencil.
Camilla’s smile proved she took the comment as a compliment.
“What’s a three-letter word for emerald?”
“Is that a trick question?” Camilla’s face twisted up in confusion.
“Not overly tricky. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Harriet tugged on her bottom lip, moving it side to side.
“Gem.”
“You’re brilliant!” Harriet filled in the letters. “Okay, I think I can make thirteen down bewitching. What’s a clue for that?”
“Magical?” Camilla said unsure as if she once again thought Harriet was attempting to make her look foolish.
“That would work, but I was hoping for something more like captivating.”
“Why not use captivating. Or how about cute or ravishing?”
“There’s already a cute clue, remember.” Ravishing conjured the wrong thought for Josie. She was stunning, but ravishing had too many ugly connotations to it. Harriet couldn’t associate Josie with anything negative. Not for the first time, Harriet rued her faux pas of stating Josie’s dimple was a defect. It was adorable. Everything about Josie was adorable. Even her brash Americanness. How was that possible?
“Right.” Camilla laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to craft a love poem of sorts via your crossword puzzle. Dropping nuggets for a special someone.” Camilla acted this out with one hand.
Harriet bristled. “Don’t be absurd. This puzzle is no different than all the others I’ve crafted.”
“Harry…” Camilla left the rest unsaid in the way she did when she thought herself overly clever.
Damn. Becoming defensive was always Harriet’s dead giveaway, but she opted to brush it aside. “Camilla…?”
“You’re impossible. I may just have to come up there to scope things out myself.”
“I’m impossible?” Harriet chuckled. “If you believe for one second that I think you’re coming here for my benefit, you’re delusional.” Harriet glanced down at the lower third of the empty crossword puzzle. “What’s a clue for delusional?”
“Harriet.”
“Too obvious,” Harriet parried.
“Is my room available this weekend?”
Harriet looked into the camera on her laptop. “Your room? When did it become your
room?”
“I’m the only one who visits.” Camilla shrugged that it only made sense.
Harriet conceded with a nod. “True. And, your first visit was only two weeks ago. Two visits in a year—that’ll be a hard record for anyone in the family to break.”
“Please. It’s not like your brother will ever visit.”
“You’re probably right. We’re not exactly close.”
“You two are too similar to be close. We’re nothing alike. That’s why we get along.”
Harriet laughed, knowing this was partly true. Most in the family didn’t bother much with either Harriet, the lesbian, or Camilla, the loudmouth, and this fact made them closer as a way of survival. “If you say so, but I’m well aware you’re only interested in coming so you can shag Clive again.”
“Is that how you talk to your adoring cousin?” Camilla pressed her palms together and made eyes at Harriet.
“Truthfully? Yes.” Harriet punctuated it with a firm nod.
“You wound me.”
Harriet slanted her head. “I sincerely doubt that, and you know it’s our thing.”
“I’ll be there Friday night. Let’s have dinner at the pub.”
“Just so you know, you might have to take a number. Clive’s in high demand. The missing ginger
ads have spiked this week.”
“The man needs to be tamed.” Her voice made Harriet think Cam had her sights on doing just that.
“Are you saying you’re the one who’ll accomplish that?” Harriet wasn’t convinced a man like Clive could be tamed. Was that a family trait? Whoa. Where did that thought come from
? Josie didn’t give off the philandering vibe at all, but should Harriet be cautious considering the ginger ads? Now there were two checks against Josie: being a spin doctor and philanderer.
“Not a chance in hell, but I’ll enjoy the ride until he is. Learn from me—all’s fair in the shagging biz.”
“You’re the role model for the twenty-first-century woman. No morals whatsoever.”
“You’re grumpier than usual. Why?” Camilla seemed genuinely concerned.
While Harriet appreciated Camilla’s rare sincerity, she wasn’t in the mood to have a heart-to-heart. “I’m not.”
“I think you are, and it’s probably because no one has been down south to visit Miss Fanny in God knows how long.”
“I don’t even know where to start with that.”
“I’m aware. This Friday, I’ll help you get laid.” Camilla bounced around on the screen like a child on Christmas morning.
Harriet made a gun with her right hand and pretended to blow her brains out.
“You know we’re on a video call. I can see you.”
“Oh, right.” Harry pointed her finger gun at Cam’s image, making an accompanying pow
sound.
“What do you have against sex?” Camilla asked, appearing flummoxed.
“Nothing at all. It’s the complications that arise from it that I object to.”
“You can be such a girl sometimes.”
“I know. Have been since the doctor slapped my bum and shouted, ‘It’s a girl.’”
“You know that’s not how it works, right? You were a girl before the slap on the ass.”
“Wow! I had no idea!”
“I really hope by the time I get there on Friday, this”—Camilla circled an index finger in the air—“has passed.”
“What?”
“Your grumpiness. If you won’t find someone to shag, at least buy a vibrator or something. You need a release. And soon. For all of our sakes.” Camilla ended the chat.
Harriet scratched the back of her head with the pencil. “She’s insane. I’m not grumpy.” She spoke to the plaster gnome, which had an orange shirt and red hat, on her desk. Did Josie speak to inanimate objects? Did thinking a question like that place Harriet in lost her mind
territory?
Her eyes fell back to her work at hand. “Oh, enchanting. That’ll work for bewitching.”