ôHear, hear,ö said Adra. ôSo about Nora. She writes in many wonderful genres. She writes mystery, romance, but also fantasy and even science fiction!ö
ôAnd her books are a damn sight better than that Dickens fellow,ö Carlotta murmured.
ôDickens is classic literature,ö said Odelia, coming to her momÆs defense. ôAnd you canÆt deny that he wrote some veryà interesting books. Books that are still being read today.ö
ôAll right, fine,ö said Lynnette. ôSo letÆs put it to a vote. All in favor of Noraùö
ôFirst the nominations, then the vote,ö said Marge, showing everyone who was boss. ôThereÆs an order to these things and itÆs important to respect it, otherwise itÆs chaos.ö
Just then, Gran walked in, saw that the meeting was in full swing, and immediately walked out again.
Gran isnÆt one for reading, IÆm afraid, and in that sense sheÆs an equal opportunities person: she dislikes Nora just as much as she dislikes Dickens or any other writer. And since book club occupied the living room, where the television is located, I could already tell she was in a bad mood, for next door, Chase was watching football with Tex and Alec.
ôNow she knows how we feel,ö Dooley whispered.
ôAnd how do we feel?ö I asked, yawning widely.
ôNot in control of the remote!ö
Chapter 15
Vesta was indeed in a particularly foul mood. She didnÆt enjoy it when she couldnÆt occupy her space the way she liked. And most of all she didnÆt enjoy not being able to watch her favorite shows in peace and comfort. Of course she had a small television set in her bedroom, but the last thing she wanted was to sneak upstairs and hide away in herroom like some punished teenager and watch TV. After all, whatÆs the point of having a perfectly nice house with a perfectly nice TV when you canÆt even call the place your own!
So she set off for OdeliaÆs place, knowing that at least there these so-called book club people wouldnÆt be infesting the place with their intellectual pastime. Only the moment she stalked in through the kitchen door, she found not only her son-in-law there, stretched out on the couch, but also Tex and even her son Alec. The three men were watching some football game on television.
ôOh, hey, Vesta,ö said Tex good-naturedly. ôWanna join us?ö
ôAnd watch grown men beat the crap out of each other? No, thank you very much.ö And she made to leave again, vowing to drop by ScarlettÆs and hog her friendÆs TV instead.
ôOh, before you go,ö said Alec, ôthereÆs been a complaint. Well, a couple of complaints, actually.ö
ôWhat complaint?ö she asked, glancing to the TV where two colossuses had just collided. She winced, imagining the damage to the brain these people must endure.
ôThe cleaner at Valina Fawn who called in ValinaÆs murder this morning. You told her not to waste valuable police time with her crank calls and hung up on her. Lucky for her she got Scarlett the second time around, who did the right thing and sent a patrol round.ö
ôSo? WhatÆs your point, exactly?ö she asked tersely.
Alec took a deep breath.ôMy point, Ma, is that when youÆre a 911 dispatcher, you donÆt tell people reporting a crime to take a hike. You diligently follow protocol and take down their information and send a unit. DidnÆt you get the flow chart outlining the procedure?ö
ôChucked it,ö she snapped. ôDonÆt need no stinkinÆ flow charts telling me what to do. What am I? A nine-year-old? As if I canÆt distinguish between a crank call and the real thing.ö
ôWell, obviously you got the wrong end of the stick this morning. So please, Ma, donÆt let it happen again? Or IÆll be forced to take measures.ö
She narrowed her eyes at her one and only son.ôWhat measures?ö
ôIÆm afraid IÆll have to let you go if it happens again.ö
She gaped at the man.ôLet me go! Your sweet old mother! Have you no shame!ö
ôIÆm sorry, Ma, but in the interest of public safetyà You have to admit you dropped the ball there this morning.ö
ôI did no such thing! On the contrary, I saved your people a lot of time and trouble looking into an unnecessary report by what was obviously some crazy person.ö
ôThat crazy person reported the murder of her boss,ö said Alec sternly.
She clamped her lips together.ôAnything else you want to share with me?ö
ôThere have been several complaints about your tone.ö
ôMy tone? WhatÆs wrong with my tone?ö
ôApparently you sound very cranky.ö
ôCranky! IÆm Miss Congeniality!ö
ôYou told a woman to stop whining when she reported her car had been stolen.ö
ôNo one likes a crybaby,ö Vesta muttered darkly.
ôAnd you told Rory Suds he was acting like a diva when he called in a holdup.ö
ôProbably just a couple of his drug addict buddies unhappy with his merchandise.ö
Alec gave another weary sigh.ôJustà be nice to people, will you? Make an effort?ö
ôIÆm always nice to people. Just ask Tex. You canÆt wish for a nicer person than me.ö
But when Tex preferred to stay mum on the subject, and in doing so refused to endorse her view of herself, she made a sound of disgust and stalked out.
ôFine!ö she said. ôYou donÆt have to spell it out. I know when IÆm not welcome!ö
ôVesta, donÆt be like that,ö said Chase, but she was already slamming the door.
Fifteen minutes later she was parking her daughterÆs aged red Peugeot in front of ScarlettÆs apartment building, and another five minutes later was sipping a hot cocoa on her friendÆs living room couch. ôI mean, the gall of these people,ö she was saying. ôItÆs not enough that I have to listen to these attention seekers all day, and spend my precious time cooped up inside a stinky old precinct, now theyÆve got the nerve to file a complaint!ö
ôYou gotta understand, hon,ö said Scarlett, who was drinking her usual black coffee, ôthat these people are under a lot of stress. Imagine having your house burgled, or suddenly staring at the business end of a big gun, wielded by an obviously unbalanced person high on crystal meth. The last thing you expect is to be called a diva or told to man up when you call in the cops. They want to be told that everything is gonna be all right. That help is on the way. That they can count on us to put an end to their nightmare.ö
Vesta frowned before herself, but had to admit Scarlett just might have a point.
ôYou know what your problem is, Vesta? You lack empathy.ö
ôAre you kidding! IÆm full of empathy! IÆm empathy personified. What is empathy, exactly?ö
Scarlett smiled.ôEmpathy is being able to put yourself in the other personÆs shoes. Seeing things from their perspective and responding accordingly. So when a person calls in a murder, you donÆt tell them to take a hike and stop wasting valuable police time. You try to imagine howyou would feel if you came face to face with a dead body.ö
ôIÆd probably freak out a little,ö Vesta admitted. ôAnd then IÆd call the cops.ö
ôAnd if the person on the other end told you to buzz off?ö
ôThen IÆd probably drag them through the phone line and beat the living crap out of them.ö She frowned. ôOkay, if you put it like that, maybe I did overreact a little.ö
ôA little! YouÆre probably the worst police dispatcher in history!ö
ôOh, donÆt you start, too,ö she grumbled, trying to deflect blame, as was her habit. ôCan I help it that I never received the proper training? That I was dumped into this job without so much as an instruction manual?ö
ôI was dumped into this job, and IÆm doing all right.ö
ôThatÆs because youÆre anice person,ö she growled, making it sound as if being nice was akin to being a mass murderer.
ôYou could be nice, if you wanted to be. It might take an effort at first, because youÆre not used to it, after spending your whole life being an obnoxious bùö
ôDonÆt you say it! DonÆt you dare!ö
ôùbusybody.ö
She glared at her friend for all of a minute, trying to decide whether to fly off the handle or not, but finally decided that maybe she had enough of that kind of behavior.