I’ve really got to learn not to drink stuff when I’m reading your email. You always make me spit! LOL!
Wow! Can you believe that it’s almost the end of October? Are you doing anything for Halloween? There’s a couple of big parties here that I can go to, but I’m not sure if I will. I don’t have any ideas for a costume.
I still haven’t sold the house. Another couple went through it today, but no takers yet. Lots of sightseers, though, since it got out there that it’s my house.
Nick
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dear Nick,
Set down your coffee mug. You never know what I’ll say next! LOL! And I think it’s one of my more attractive features, the ability to make people spit!
I’ll be spending Halloween in costume. There’s an annual masquerade ball here…for charity. I usually work the punch bowl.
Too bad about the house. It must be killing you to be neat and tidy every day.
Take care,
Abby
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Hey, Abby!
You know it, girl! Picking up after myself is not my best thing! LOL! Mrs. Marchesa can’t believe the difference. She says she thinks I'm ready to learn how to dust!
I’ve lost another three pounds. Luke says I’m almost in decent shape. The man just kills me with compliments. LOL! But I am feeling pretty good about myself.
I went out with Howie last night. He’s in town for an awards thing – Latino contributions to society or something. He says ‘hi’. I showed him your picture. He thinks you’re pretty.
What are you wearing for a costume?
Nick
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dear Nick,
You never told me that Howie was blind. LOL! I’m glad you got to see your friend. I guess it won’t be long before you’ll be seeing all of them again.
Good job on the weight loss, but don’t overdo it. You might end up looking like me. LOL!
I’m going to the ball as a French lady, Marie Antoinette kind of thing. The dress is royal blue and silver. It’s got a full skirt and a tight bodice and…set down your beer…CLEAVAGE!!
Take care,
Abby
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Nick did set down his beer. And then he laughed out loud. This was the best part of his day. Talking to Abby. Her emails never failed to make him laugh. Connecting on AIM was a little more difficult because of the difference in both time zones and lifestyles, but the few times that they had managed it had been terrific. Man, they said everything to each other. The last month, since she’d come back from Toronto had been beyond wonderful. She had told him all about her makeover and her shopping excursions, first in Toronto and then in Chicago. The Goodwill Society in Toronto had been the recipient of some very expensive, well-made clothes. Similar donations were made in Chicago upon her return.
Nick had shared his trials and tribulations with her as well. And his triumphs. He’d done a number of interviews for radio and TV, especially when snippets of Ribbons of Light started to get out there. The buzz on it was good. Nick was looking forward to making the video. They were going to use his idea of a nature theme. Kevin had been totally on board with that idea. They already had cinematographers watching for ribbons of light in the sky, God’s graces.
They talked about everything. Nick now knew all there was to know about body shape and colors. Abby knew more than she ever thought she would about pectorals and triceps. Nick couldn’t believe that he’d actually had a conversation with a woman about bra size and Abby’s eyes had bugged out at Nick’s description of a muscle pull in his groin area.
Parents were a big topic of conversation between them. Nick’s were involved in a bitter divorce…or at least a separation. Nick figured the faster it became a divorce, the better it would be all around. Abby’s parents were the bane of her existence as well. Her mother had barely commented about her makeover, other than to agree politely that, yes, Abigail was looking lovely these days, whenever anyone else mentioned it. Abby overheard her mother tell her father that it was a shame it hadn’t happened before she’d met the singer.
So it’s a good thing I’ve got you, buddy, she wrote to Nick, or they’d be out there shopping me around like a secondhand piano.
It was the first time Abby had referred to their arrangement since they had decided to go ahead with it. Nick mentioned it too in his reply. He said that the plan seemed to be working out well for both of them. And it had survived going public. Word had filtered out from Chicago. Nick was blindsided by it in a radio interview, but he handled it beautifully. The interviewer asked him if he knew that there was apparently some girl in Chicago claiming to be his girlfriend. Nick had flashed that lop-sided smile that made women gasp and said, “Probably my girlfriend.”
When the interviewer inquired further, Nick stated that it was a private relationship, that the lady in question was not in show business. The interviewer asked what her name was, and Nick got a faraway look in his eyes and said softly, “Abby”.
It was too cool, he wrote Abby that night. I was great. I used this wistful voice and then just kind of whispered your name.
Abby replied that she had hoped it could stay private as long as possible, but that she was a lot more prepared for it than she had been a few weeks ago. And then she confided her fear that she had been too ugly to be his girlfriend and that when it got out there, he would be ridiculed for having chosen her.
Nick took a long time to frame his answer to that one. He knew she was sincere and the pain radiated from the monitor. Empty compliments and denials wouldn’t do it this time. So he chose another route. He ignored her remark, but talked about the changes they had both undergone since they had met…physical and emotional…how they were both blossoming into swans. Abby ignored that remark in her next email and they went back to sharing the details of their day and making each other laugh.
As for the outing of their relationship, Nick might have thought he’d been very cool, but Abby decided to check out some websites anyway. The Mature Fan Club spent the entire day fighting about it. The diehards insisted that everyone respect Nick’s request for privacy; others were willing to give him privacy as soon as they had every detail about the girl, including a picture. Then they got off topic completely and starting commenting on each other’s posts. The moderators waded in every so often and threatened to shut the whole thing down if people didn’t behave. They finally pulled the plug after Nick4me commented that Chicago was certainly a long way from Canada. The woman who had posted the earlier rumor countered with the comment that Nick4me was lacking somewhat in both geography skills and manners.
Nick and Abby talked about everything except two things. Abby did not tell Nick about her writing, even though it was becoming a large part of her life. And Nick didn’t tell Abby how much he still missed Ronni.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Hey, Abby!
Send me a picture of the costume you’re going to wear. I’ve got an idea.
Nick
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dear Nick,
What are you up to? You know how dangerous you are when you start thinking! LOL!
Take care,
Abby
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby stood by the punch bowl and ladled out cupfuls to costumed revelers. She smiled as she thought of Nick out in California in knee breeches and a long silver coat. What strange ideas he had! He had rented a costume to go with hers. They were going as a couple to separate Halloween parties, half a country apart.
“AJ will be confused about this for years,” she told Nick.
He laughed and told her that he would send a picture of himself and she could use her photo editing program to merge them together into one shot. That’s wonderful, she countered, but where will we tell him it was taken. Nick took his best shot at U.S. geography and guessed halfway in between. Utah, maybe?
“So where’s your boyband heartthrob?”
Abby came back to the present and found herself looking at Ronni Fenton. Ronni looked gorgeous, as always, and very pissed off.
Pissed off didn’t begin to describe Ronni’s mood. She had spent quite a lot of time in the costume rental shop deciding on outfits for her and James. She had settled on costumes from the movie Chicago. It was a win/win situation. She could look sexy and gorgeous and James could wear his tux and that would let him be comfortable for the evening and pretend that he really wasn’t in costume, which he hated. But James had tattled to his mother, who had informed him that Ronni could not wear that costume. She was a married woman and the daughter-in-law of Miles and Jeannette Fenton. What would Sharon Fremont say, for heaven’s sakes, if Veronica showed up in nothing more than black underwear with some chiffon attached?
Ronni had thrown a fit and then marched in high dudgeon back to the costume shop to get her second choice. But it had already been taken. Ronni had been forced to accept what was left and so she stood before Abby as a very prim Maid Marian. James was stalking about the place in green felt and tights, singularly unhappy with his wife at the moment.
And Abby stood before Ronni wearing the sexy silver and blue French countess outfit that Ronni had wanted.
Abby did not dignify the ‘boyband’ comment with a response. “Punch, Ronni?” she asked with disdain, although her palms were sweaty and her psyche had been thrown right back into high school. She could almost smell the gym change room.
Ronni accepted a glass of the too-sweet fruity concoction. She would have preferred something stronger, but she had had more wine with dinner than she should have and she’d had a drink in the bar when James wasn’t looking. She was in a mood to cause trouble. And she didn’t like it that Ducky was looking better than her. Well, not better, not by a long shot, but she had a better costume…more striking, more noticeable…Ronni didn’t like that at all. And she really hated that every person who came up to the punch table complimented the Duckster, telling her what a great costume it was and how nice she looked.
She looked better, Ronni had to admit that. The Ugly Ducky had finally done something right with her hair and she was wearing makeup, but she was still as plain as dirt when compared to Ronni. But she had a glow on…and she was smiling…as opposed to Ronni’s scowl…
“So where is he?” Ronni asked, after the latest thirsty couple had wandered off.
“California,” said Abby, simply.
Ronni almost said, “I know,” but bit her tongue at the last moment. She was saving the news that she knew Nick…oh, how she knew Nick…for some propitious moment.
“Do you see him often?” asked Ronni, who knew that Nick had been nowhere near Chicago. She figured there was no way that could have happened without Sharon Fremont taking out an ad in the paper!
“Whenever I can,” said Abby enigmatically, and she turned to serve some more people. She was relieved when she turned back to find that Ronni had wandered off. To poison someone else’s well, thought Abby, uncharitably but accurately.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby’s parents were surprised that night when they got home from the ball. Abby didn’t go straight to bed but settled in at her computer. They heard the clicking for nearly forty minutes before it stopped.
They, of course, thought that she was chatting with Nick. The truth of the matter was that Princess Penelope had a guest. Lady Vera…perfect, petite, blonde, deadly Lady Vera had come to visit.
