“No, Ursi. I was just wondering. For some reason I woke up with waffles on my mind. Must have been something I ate last night.”
Seeing as the mater and pater were due to dock tomorrow I thought it politic not to mention the number of martinis I had also ingested last night followed by several dark lagers. Before getting into my chariot I had tested my driving capabilities by reciting aloud: Amidst the mists and coldest frosts, with stoutest wrists and loudest boasts, he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghost.
Needless to say I did not miss a beat, flub a word, or wet my chin, therefore I was not hors de combat. I also drew an admiring crowd in the parking lot and remember hearing Reggie Winetroub call out, “How boss.”
Ursi served me a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice and tempted me with, “A cheddar cheese omelet is what I had in mind, Archy, with a helping of chilled honey dew to get you started. Just ripened and sweet as sugar, this one is.”
“I’m in your hands,” I surrendered. “Anything new to report on our visiting novelist and her brood?”
“They say she was at the Club Colette last night with her husband and daughter and her daughter’s beau. They say she looked like a million bucks.”
“They’ was Ursi’s version of ‘a reliable source’ and Club Colette was Palm Beach’s version of New York’s El Morocco in the golden days of cafe society. Sabrina didn’t seem to have any qualms about parading her troops on grounds where an Appleton, a Cranston, or a Schuyler might very well be sampling the bill of fare at the next table, but then restraint was not Ms Wright’s forte. It was time to sit down with the lady and shout in her native tongue, “Enough already.”
“A million bucks? In this town, Ursi, that makes her an also-ran.”
“They say her daughter is very plain,” Ursi gossiped while serving my honey dew.
“Her mother casts a long shadow, Ursi. It must be hard for the girl to find her place in the sun.”
Slicing a thick slab of cheddar and breaking eggs, Ursi sighed, “Poor thing. I hope she finds her true mother?”
The trouble was, she had. Ascertaining that Ursi had nothing new to report on the comings and goings of Sabrina Wright and Co.” I inquired after Jamie to divert her from asking me questions regarding the affair I was loath to answer. I learned that, in anticipation of picking up the seafarers in Ft Lauderdale tomorrow, he had taken father’s Lexus to the car wash for a bit of sprucing up. With the rain now falling, Ursi feared it would all be in vain.
“If they give it a good coat of wax,” I said, ‘it will keep its shine.
What time are they docking?”
“Noon, and I’ll be so glad to see them. I miss your mother, Archy.”
“Not more than I do, I’m sure.” The seigneur was also missed, but as he discouraged overt signs of affection you wouldn’t hear it from us.
Like children unattended for too long, we would all be pleased to get back to the familiar and comforting routine of life with father, and I had much to report to his nibs.
“Would you like a toasted bagel?” Ursi asked, expertly flipping the cheddar omelet in its pan.
“I think not,” I declined. “One piece of rye toast for me. I’m watching my diet.”
“Dry or buttered?”
Dry rye toast was indistinguishable from cardboard. “Buttered, please.
This honeydew is good,” I complimented, ‘and make it two slices of rye toast, Ursi, both buttered.”
Back in my room, and far from Ursi’s gaze, I lit an English Oval and inhaled deeply. My first and last of the day barring unforeseen circumstances that would cause me to seek solace from the winsome weed.
Speaking of which, I dialed The Breakers and asked for Mr. Silvester’s suite.
Sabrina picked up after one ring. Did she monitor all incoming calls personally? I believe she did because there was no telling when she would be assailed by an irate voice from the past imploring her to scram.
“Archy McNally here.”
After a long pause she welcomed me with, “I thought we had concluded our business, Mr. McNally.”
“So did I, Ms Wright, but circumstances require that we meet again one rainy Saturday afternoon. May I suggest the Leopard Lounge at the Chesterfield, say high noon?”
“You may suggest it, Mr. McNally, and you may go to the Leopard Lounge some rainy Saturday at high noon, but I won’t be there. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“Don’t hang up, Ms Wright. This is important. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry in town is talking about Gillian’s hankering for knowledge of things past. Did you hear me? Every Tom, Dick, and Harry.” We shared another poignant moment of silence. She came back on the line with,
“You are a snooping bastard, Mr. McNally.” “And you are a liar, a cheat, and a con artist, Ms Wright.” She must have liked that because she laughed. “Seeing as we understand each other, I will meet you at the Leopard Lounge, but make it a little later. Only mad dogs and Archy McNally go out in the noonday sun.” “It’s raining out there, in case you haven’t noticed.” “I know it is, but I never let reality come between me and a good line. It’s the secret of my success. One o’clock, give or take, Mr. McNally, and now I must run, a marvelous young man is coming to do my hair. He’s all the rage down here and it’s rumored he was discovered by Virginia Cranston. I just love sharing with Ginny Cranston, Mr. McNally I just love it.” She rang off with a titter and had me grinning like a school boy. Sabrina Wright, you may be a liar, a cheat, and a con artist, but you are irresistible. However, I would suggest she temper her arrogance with caution. The boys of summer were not in a frolicking mood — but Archy was. I called Connie to see what we could get up to on a rainy Saturday night. “Archy,” Connie cried, “I was just on my way out.”
“Not working today, are you?” “No. I’m driving down to Miami to see my cousin. She just had a baby.”
That was strange, I thought, and said as much. “Another? Didn’t she have one a few weeks ago?”
“That was my cousin on the Garcia side,” Connie said. “This is a Mendez cousin, on my mother’s side. She had a boy.”
“How many cousins do you have, Connie?”
“Well, my father was one of nine and my mother has three brothers and three sisters, so I have…”
“I’m sorry I asked,” I broke in. Connie could not only name them all, but tell you their birthdays as well. “Will you be back in time for dinner?”
“No way, Archy. I’m having dinner with my cousins. They’re all coming to see the new baby.”
“Both sides?” I exclaimed.
“No, only the Mendez cousins. Would you like to come, Archy? You know you’re always welcome.”
“Thank you, Connie, but I’ll pass.” Being jostled by two dozen Cubans on a buffet line was not my idea of a romantic evening. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again. Why not? I dialed Bianca Courtney.
“Archy here. How were the waffles?”
“Oh, Archy. A disaster. We never had them.”
This was encouraging. “Do tell, Bianca.”
“Well,” she said, ‘we bought a packaged batter and had to mix in eggs and milk. That was okay because Binky now has an electric mixer. It came with a bowl. We heated the iron and poured in the batter, but we must have put in too much because it began to ooze out. Binky went to wipe it up and burned his hand.
I went ballistic and pulled the plug, only I yanked too hard and sent the waffle iron smack into Binky’s groin. Oh, Archy, it was horrible.
Binky was covered with batter and the iron landed on his foot.”
“Are you telling me you killed Binky?”
“No. No. I stuck his hand in cold water and ran to get Sergeant Rogoff.”
“You went to get Al?” I gasped. “Good Lord, what for?”
“He’s a cop, isn’t he? I figured he would know how to treat burns and someone had to get the glop off Binky. It was in an awkward place, if you know what I mean.”
I suddenly remembered that the only job Binky had never held was that of short-order cook. The gods were kind to that boy, in spite of it all. “Did Al help?” I asked.