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2 September 2009
| "The I Do's of
March"
by M. Mitchell Marmel & E.O. Costello © 2007-9 by M. Mitchell Marmel and E.O. Costello Willow Fawnsworthy, Reggie Buckhorn, Franklin Stagg, Orrin Brush, Leslie duCleds, Kara Karoksdottir, Charles Foster Crane, Inocenta du Cleds (nee de Ciervos), Carlos de Ciervos, Senora de Ciervos © Eric Costello Rosie Baumgartner, © M. Mitchell Marmel Marryin’ Sam and Lulubelle Mae Brunswick © E.O Costello and M. Mitchell Marmel Brenda and Covina Johnson © Walter D. Reimer Part Six
Rosie: With many paws making for light work, we finally got the first floor cleared out and ready for contractors. I had it figured: Exerminator, painters, plumber, electrician. Plus a handyfur to check out the appliances, make sure the oven wasn't gonna explode on me. Still some heavy and bulky stuff left, as everyone was more or less worn out by now. We had, thank God, gotten rid of those cases of canned fruit to the curb before they stunk up the joint. "Okeh, gals, I thank you and Luchow's thanks you. Assuming we're still in business, I'll gladly handle the Lotus Christmas party this year." As the girls from the Lotus headed out, waving, I spotted a guy peering over the wall that shielded part of the biergarten from the street. Feline, sort of a calico pattern to his fur, and dressed in a threadbare suit. When I stepped into his view he doffed his hat and said in a respectful tone, “Excuse me, dear lady, but are you and your friends demolishing this fine establishment?” "Heh. Nope. We'll be reopening soon." The threadbare kitty brightened visibly. “Thank goodness!” he exclaimed. “I shall be counting the days, nay the hours until this fine place of purveyance reopens its door, welcoming all and sundry!” He extended his paw. “A. Cadbury Mouchoir, dear lady, at your service.” I shook the proffered paw (what the hell – I needed to wash up anyway). “I take it, then that you were a frequent customer when Mister Luchow was running the place?” “Indeed yes,” the fellow assured me with a wistful look. “Many were the days. Since Herr Luchow closed these doors, I have been pining away for a decent meal. The food vendors - ” here he shuddered “ – barbarians, the whole pack of them.” He looked like he was expecting something. I thought I could guess what. “Well, we’re still getting the place fixed up,” I smiled at him. “If you’re willing to lend a paw...“ A look of horror twisted Mouchoir’s face. Stammering an excuse, he tipped his hat to me again and walked off, a bit quickly. I sniffed, nodding to myself. “Mooch.” ***
Willow: “And you say you overheard him asking about me?” The stylist tut-tutted as he worked on my headfur. “Patience, my dear. Hmm, just a little trim here . . . Anyway, I overheard that he was asking after you. Said he was curious about meeting a ‘long-lost cousin.’” He smiled. "Nice-looking buck, about so tall and a nice rack.” I started to twist around in my seat. “I trust you didn’t tell him anything?” He smirked. “I don’t kiss and tell. Now, hold still, please.” The slight sound of metal rasping over metal as he trimmed my bangs helped cover my thoughts. ***
Les: Willow's idea of having Rosie cater the reception would work out great, I thought. Particularly seeing as the major restaurants like L'Etoile had turned me down. Seems they didn't like the idea of catering any affair involving Reggie, for some reason. And they were none too sure about me. Go figure. So, Luchow's it is. Besides, my paying for the reception will take another burden off Papi. Seeing as we didn't get off to a good start (and, frankly, knocking up his daughter helped not a whit), the more son-in-law brownie points, the better. ***
Rosie: With the first of March coming up fast, I figured the place was ready. For contractors, that is. I spent most of the morning showing them what needed to be done . . . ***
". . . but don't start until the exterminators are done." The aardvark painter scratched behind one ear. "You're tellin me - that there ain't gonna be no BUGS? The SOUP ain't gonna TASTE the same!" I gave him a withering glance. "You want I should get some ants to sprinkle on your soup?" "Oh BOY! ANTS!" "Oy." ***
So there I was showing the guy from ACME Exterminators where to shpritz (basically everywhere) when I heard engine noises out back. I left the thin, kind of morose-looking wolf to his exterminating and went to investigate. "What the-?" Two large trucks were parked out back, and furs were unloading... cases of canned goods. Other supplies of all sorts. Two large burlap sacks of Kona coffee beans. Well, that ought to make Ol’ Durian Face happy. One of the truck drivers stuck a set of invoices under my nose and I goggled at the list, then felt my mouth go dry at the cost. “Wait just a minute!” I said. “I didn’t order any of this!” “Ah, but we did.” I whirled around to see Willow and Reggie moving out of the doorway to let the goods get carried in. “Call it a house-warming present,” Willow said. “His idea.” next |