Bold and Simful

“I’m not watching, but it doesn’t matter, you’re never gonna make it anyway,” Xavier teased while averting his eyes by conscientiously studying his cue.

“13, side pocket,” Elizabeth called her shot. She only had 4 more balls to make and she would be off dish duty for a week.

Elizabeth and Xavier had long ago learned that the few hours between when the school bus dropped them off and when their father arrived home from the office were their only hours of peace. It was during these times that the two had formed a strong bond, even for siblings and though they teased each other nonstop, they both knew they were only jokes.

Just as the ball dropped, they heard the door open and knew play time was almost over.

After a hard day, Francis Mendenhall always went straight to the bar to pour himself a cocktail so he could relax before dinner with his family.

“Where is Xavier?” Francis questioned his wife and daughter with a grimace. “He doesn’t have enough respect to come down to dinner?”

“Dear, he…” Catherine started in her soft voice, but Elizabeth jumped in to cover for her brother, “He’s studying, Father. He has a physics exam tomorrow.”

“Finally, the boy shows some initiative!” Francis exclaimed, but disapproval still rang in his voice as he continued, “Maybe he’ll accomplish a C instead of a C- this time.”

“Dear, he does try. Physics is a difficult subject and Mr….” Catherine protested in defense of her son, which only raised Francis’ ire further.

“If he applied himself…” he continued, cutting off his wife mid-sentence. Elizabeth immediately tuned out the rest of the diatribe, she had heard it all before, and suddenly found her plate terribly interesting.

Hurriedly she finished the rest of her spaghetti and requested to be excused.

As she passed by Xavier’s room, she peaked in and caught him watching tv.

“X-man, Dad’s on a tear, you better crack a book or at least turn down the tv,” she warned in a whisper.

“Yeah, yeah,” her brother mumbled, not tearing his eyes from the screen. “Hey, where are you going?” he called after her when she didn’t come in.

“To call Maleena,” Elizabeth answered from the hallway. Xavier heard the phone pick up, but didn’t move a muscle to get off the bed. He had paid enough attention in class that he felt he had enough of a grasp to get a solid C. “Damn, I missed it,” he said and fished around the covers for the remote to rewind the movie.

“OH-my-god! You are never going to believe what is happening at this very minute,” Maleena Bettencourt almost howled with laughter. “My mom actually tried to cook! No, no everything is fine. Fireman Pons got here right away.”

“Now my mother is asking for a recommendation to a restaurant by miming eating, as if poor people can’t speak her language. Oh, she is so embarrassing. Uh-huh, yeah Veronica’s home, she’s stuffing her face at the moment. Sure you can come over, but I hope you already ate.”

Maleena hung up and interpreted her mother’s pantomime to Fireman Calista Pons then reached over her sister to grab a soda out of the fridge.

Robert watched his daughters arguing and began to mentally calculate the days remaining until they left for college. They were so sweet when he was working full time, but now that he was home all day they were working his last nerve.

“Why didn’t you cook?” Veronica asked for the third time.

“Why me? Why not you?” Maleena retorted. She liked cooking, but not when she had to, then it was too much like a chore.

“Daddy…” Veronica appealed to her father to settle the matter.

“Calm down, girls, I was trying to watch a movie. Just call out for something, pizza or whatever and someone get that doorbell,” Robert settled the disagreement and shooed Maleena from in front of the tv.

Elizabeth Mendenhall struck a pose in the Bettencourt’s entry hall, “Don’t you think I’d make a great model?” she asked of her friend.

“You be the model and I’ll be the designer,” Veronica laughed. “Maleena’s upstairs, you wanna see the new clothes we got today?”

The two girls disappeared upstairs, passing Maxine on the way. “Hey, Mrs. Bettencourt, I heard you cooked dinner,” Elizabeth snickered good naturedly.

“Never again,” Maxine called back as she descended the stairs.

‘I never know if this woman is going to slug me or not,‘ Maxine thought, faced with Catherine Mendenhall demanding to know the whereabouts of her daughter.

“She’s upstairs with the girls trying on new clothes,” Maxine answered her neighbor. “Would you like me to get her for you?”

“Yes and quickly if you don’t mind, her father wants to know why she isn’t working on her history homework,” Catherine answered. That had been a partial lie, and looking around the room she realized why Francis didn’t particularly want his daughter associating with the Bettencourts. ‘How garish! Did she do the decorating herself? and who wears so many rings and diamonds during the day?‘

Back at home, Elizabeth found herself her father’s special project. Usually he laid off her and focused his efforts on Xavier, but her visit to the Bettencourts had earned her study time with dear old dad. ‘Someone should tell him that an A is the best you can get,‘ she thought to herself but aloud she answered his questions.

“1814″

“And who saved the painting of Washington?” he asked, as though that trivial nugget would be on the exam.

“Dolley Madison,” she dutifully answered. “But I don’t think that’s going to be…”

“Nonsense, know everything and you’ll be surprised by nothing,” Francis responded before his daughter could finish. “That should be your motto.” He puffed himself up and prepared for a repeat of the family history,

“Had your great-grandfather not known about the intricacies of the stock market, he would have been surprised by Black Friday just like everyone else and where would we be today?” His voice droned on, extolling the virtues of bygone generations of Mendenhalls and assuring his daughter that he only wanted the best for her, but that best had to be earned.

A few days later, Francis realized that his daughter was the least of his worries when he arrived home from work early to find his son flirting with an unknown girl.

“Xavier!” he hollered, stepping back and throwing up his hands in complete and utter shock.

After asking the young woman, and he used that term loosely, to leave the premises, he explained to his son that he would not be allowed to leave the house for the next two weeks. Further, there would be no phone, no tv and definately no girls until his grades improved significantly.

“And when we are done this, I see that you still have yesterday’s homework to do,” Francis lectured. “And after that, you can clean up this room, the maid has orders not to enter here but that doesn’t mean you live in a pig sty.”

It had been two days since the flirting incident, two days that it took for Francis to calm down enough to even speak to the boy.

With her father occupied tutoring and lecturing Xavier, Elizabeth began spending more evenings at the Bettencourts. On this particular evening she was present at the interview that would determine if her two best friends would be able to attend Hunter College with her in the fall.

Maleena had cooked, thank goodness, and the headmaster seemed to be well impressed with the girls. By the time dinner was over, they had their answer. Graduation from Hunter Prep would not separate the three best friends, they just had to make it through a few more weeks then they were off to college…together!

“I agree completely, dear. They are tawdry, but it’s hardly slumming to invite them over. I just know I can convince them to contribute and don’t you want the Mendenhall Foundation to be able endow the college with enough money to build a new culinary wing?” Catherine explained before Francis could explode over her invitation to the Bettencourts.

“You are absolutely right,” Francis answered, seeing the benefits of befriending his only neighbors, “Whether it’s new or old, money spends the same and I know you’ll be able to solicit a hefty donation for the Foundation.”

After Francis left for the office, Catherine straightened up a bit, it was the maid’s day off, and called Maxine and Robert to come over.

“…a little early to be offering guests drinks, don’t you…” Maxine cut her comment short when she saw the look on her husband’s face.

“She’s right behind me, isn’t she?” she said and wished desperately for a hole to crawl into.

 

Posted on April 23rd, 2008 under Orion Bay. Tags: Bettencourt, Mendenhall. RSS 2.0 feed. Leave a response, or trackback.