HAPPILY EVER BEFORE (22 page)

The Art Institute of Chicago had a small event room that Diane was letting them use for their investor tasting. George had somehow managed to transform said room from a sterile white box into a cornucopia of colors. The Sweet Mama’s logo cleverly hung around the room, there was a cold milk fountain and a hot chocolate fountain, an ice cream station, and to top it off the Kappa Gamma sorority girls were dressed as milkmaids. “So?” asked George. “What do you think?”

“Who did you blow?” Grace deadpanned.

 “Well, to be honest the posters were done as a favor from an old boyfriend who I did blow in a past life. And as an alumnus of the Kappa Gamma’s, I got them to do this as a part of their community service hours.” Grace started to say something, but George stopped her. “Look at this!” she picked up an old fashion lunch pail that was adorned with the Sweet Mamas logo. “We’re going to put sample cookies, our business plan, and containers of cold milk into these as take home gifts. And by
we
, I mean the milkmaids.”

“Oh my God, you blew the budget! By blew, I mean spent all our money. Please tell me you negotiated a great deal while you were on your back,” a panicked Clair sighed.

George chided, “
don’t
worry. I stole them. The agency had a couple of hundred left over from Christmas a few years back and I smuggled them out a few weeks ago.”

Jack strolled in wearing a power suit.  The girls whistled. “You clean up nice.”

 Grace noticed the Kappa Milkmaids eyeing Jack and pulled him close. She looked around the place and was suddenly a little spooked--like Sweet Mama’s could actually be the thing she did with her life, not just the thing she was trying to do. “Don’t you think we should check on the cookies?” she asked. “Some of them might have broken. No one likes a broken cookie. I know I don’t.”

 “Let’s check the cookies,” Clair said, as she transferred Grace’s looped arm from Jack to herself. George followed behind them as Henry walked up with his parents and Sal and Diane in tow.

“The place looks great,” Sal said, as he looked around.

Diane gave him a kiss. “It certainly does.”

“They just might pull this off,” said Henry, Sr.

Patricia noticed a Kappa Milkmaid eyeing her Husband and immediately looped her arm through his. “They just might.”

“What gives?” asked George, as Clair counted the rows of cookies.

“Why are you so calm? This is a big night for us. A BIG night don’t you get it?” An exasperated Grace sighed as she checked the baskets for broken cookies.

George watched them. “Yes, I get it. Enjoy the moment.”

“Hey, I was fine until Grace did her whole check on the cookies thing,” Clair said.

“Okay, this is a big night. So, let’s start it the way a momentous occasion should be started.” George went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of sparkling cider and poured them each a glass. “We’ve been through a lot--death, a lot of death, and drunkenness, a lot of drunkenness, bad hair, bad clothes, bad men, new relationships with alcohol and the right men, and now we’re about to welcome a baby into the tribe.” Grace and Clair cheered. “We survived all of that with our friendship intact. And bitches, to be honest, I can’t think of any two people I’d rather be in business with! Whatever happens tonight, we did good, and so--to us!” Grace and Clair cheered some more.

“Tonight, we don’t take no for an answer!” Grace looked at George, “unless it has to do with sex, drugs, or alcohol.”

“Amen!”
Added Clair and George.
They all clanked paper cups and drank.

As the night progressed, it became clear that eating free cookies was one thing, but getting people to invest in them was an entirely different glass of milk. “People are impressed,” Sal remarked, as he put his arms around Grace and Clair.

“Yeah, but not enough to pull out their checkbooks,” sighed Grace.

“No one is pulling out their checkbooks until they’ve studied the numbers. By the end of the week, you’ll have some bites.”

 “How’s our girl doing?” Grace smiled at George who was across the room.

“Is she’s keeping her nose clean?” asked Clair as she smiled at her mom.

A nervous Sal put his hands in his pocket. “I want her to move in with me.”

“George?” Grace said a bit too loudly.

“Mom?”
Clair said a bit too loudly.

“Mom?” a confused Grace said, as she pulled them into the kitchen. Clair started to speak, but Grace stopped her. “Let him talk!”

Sal squirmed. “I want to ask your mother to move in with me.”

“Hey, she’s a grown woman. If she wants to shack up, well then more power to her.” Grace gave him a peck on the cheek. “So, you’ll move in with her?”

 “Well, I was thinking of buying a new place in the city and having your mom
sell
the house. She could put that money directly into her retirement fund or…”

“You’d sell our house?” Clair disappointedly sighed.

“Our house?”
Grace echoed.

“Nothing is set in stone. Hell, she might say no.”

Clair managed a smiled. “Well, you have our blessing. You make her happy.” Sal kissed them and got out of the kitchen before they could change their minds.

“Sell our house? That’s surreal.” Grace checked the remaining cookie baskets.

Clair began counting rows again. “Our rooms won’t be our rooms anymore.”

“Our rooms haven’t been our rooms for over a decade.” Suddenly, Grace felt a little wet where she hadn’t felt wet before.

“Are you okay?” Clair stepped closer. “You have a funny look on your face.”

Grace looked down. “I think my water just broke!”

Clair freaked. “What? Oh my God! Oh my God!
OHMYGOD!”

The next thing she knew Grace was on the way to the hospital with Henry, Patricia, and Diane in tow.

Grace stood with Diane as Henry filled out paperwork, Clair called Frigidaire, and Patricia dealt with her hospital phobias, which meant that every ten or fifteen minutes she had to step outside to free herself from the germs the that inconsiderate sick people had brought into the hospital.

“Frigidaire’s here. She’s waiting for another woman to dilate. The poor thing has been in labor since
noon
!” Clair grimaced.

Grace panicked.
“
Noon
?
Noon
?
She’s been in labor since
noon
? That’s inhumane--that’s ten hours of inhumane!”

Henry came over with the clipboard. “I know I should know this, but what’s your middle name?”

“Anne,” snapped Clair.

“Uh, honey, I meant Grace.”

“I don’t have one. Someone was so overwhelmed, she couldn’t figure out what went with the name Grace and, therefore, I’ve been middle nameless my entire life, which, by the way, made the nuns label me a troublemaker and a trollop. I had to take a saint’s name for my confirmation to get them off my back!”

“Really?
Heloise is a saint’s name? And all of that bad behavior had to do with the fact that you had no middle name?” Diane mocked.

Grace cracked a smile at the exact second Frigidaire showed up and Patricia entered the emergency room lobby for the twentieth time.  “How are you ladies doing?”

“Do these people have to be in here?” Patricia stared down everyone waiting for emergency help. “Especially him, I mean really.” They followed Patricia’s gaze to an unfortunate fellow with a steel rod protruding out of his left foot.

“Grace, Clair, why don’t you come with me?” The Higgins sisters followed Frigidaire into the emergency room. “Hop up, let’s check you out.” Grace dropped trough, as Frigidaire got ready to check under her hood. Clair took Grace’s hand as she hopped up on the table. The doctor took one look and sighed. “Well, it seems you wet yourself.” They were confused, so she tried to speak more clearly, “as in, peed your pants.”

“I what?”

“You
peed
your pants.” Frigidaire took off her gloves. “It happens a lot when you’re this far along, it’s hard to tell.”

“You
peed
your pants?” Clair bit her tongue and tried not to laugh.

Grace’s face turned beet red and Clair lost it. As her laughter rang through the emergency room, rod-in-my-left-foot fainted from the pain of, well, having a steel rod imbedded in his left foot and Patricia, fearing she’d catch something from him, ran outside.

As Grace got ready to embark on the walk of shame—different, of course, from the walk of shame of her youth that most often happened after too many margaritas and a one-night stand--interesting things were happening at the cookie tasting. The maids they were a milking and the cookies were being
chowed
down. So much so, that the Kappa Gamma’s were serving them hand over fist.          

“Put that coffee down,” Sal said to a startled Henry, Sr., as he held his cup under the hot chocolate fountain. “Sorry, I always wanted to say that--best
Mamet
play ever.”

Henry, Sr. added, “
coffee
is for closers.”

Sal looked at the crowd. “How many people you know here?”

Henry, Sr. followed his gaze. “Let’s just say the leads aren’t weak.”

“I’m a charming
guy,
you’re a charming guy and like the master said only one thing counts in this world, get them to sign on the line that is dotted. You game?”

“Give me the Erickson leads. We need a talker or someone who’s married to or dating a talker,” Sal said.

Henry, Sr. locked onto the biggest talker he had ever met. “
Videtti
, he owns the biggest trucking company in the city he’s standing about three feet away in the grey suit.”

Sal followed his gaze. “Well, let’s get him to part with a little money. Give me a two minute lead.”

Henry, Sr. watched Sal as he strode over and then casually walked in the other direction until he rounded his way back toward Sal. Henry loved the hunt. As
a golf
pro, it was all about the hunt--casually suggesting a game of golf because you can’t find someone of your own caliber to play with, never letting them win, but never letting them think they can’t. Off-handed suggestions like the way they stand that can have an immediate effect on their stroke and then, by the end of nine rounds, they’re begging you to take them on as a client. Henry, Sr. smiled and slapped Tom on the back.  “
Videtti
,
how’s the king of the four wheelers doing?”

“
Videtti
, as in
Videtti
trucking?
You’re that
Videtti
? You’re a big thinker!” said Sal.

Tom smiled. “Trust me, I’m no genius. I bought a truck and started hauling people’s crap around because I wanted to avoid college.” Tom shook Henry’s hand

 “So, why are you here? I can’t even get you on the golf course, but you’ll spend the night eating cookies?” Henry, Sr. grinned.

Tom sheepishly smiled.
“Long story, short version.
I’m dating Nancy Clay. She was a client of your daughter-in-law’s. Anyway, she heard about the whole baby gate partnership debacle, got a bug up her ass, and feels she needs to support up and coming business women and, so here I am.”

Henry, Sr. had his in. “You know the girls plan on giving ten percent of every sale to
Kiva
to finance micro-loans for women in third world countries?”

Sal jumped in, “you invest in a company like this and you get a partial charitable write off. It’s the wave of the future. Help others, while you help yourself. It’s a win-win!”

Tom was intrigued. Henry patted Sal on the back. The man was a genius. “Sal knows what he’s talking about. He’s a lawyer, works for the ACLU.” Henry noticed some women from the club and now that he and Sal had their patter down he was going in for the kill. “Will you excuse me? Call me this
week,
we’ll set up a game.” Henry, Sr. left Tom in capable hands and took off after his new prey.

Henry, Sr. and Sal worked the crowd and before long women were in line waiting to talk to George. She quickly came up with her pitch, every woman deserves a chance, and shrewdly used the she’s having her sister’s baby saga to her advantage. It was gold, pure gold. As the cookies ran out and the crowd thinned, George had over seventy business cards, ten promises of meeting for lunch, and two women actually pulled out checkbooks in hopes of putting a down payment on Sweet Mama’s. George was happy. George was beyond happy and, as she bounced with the first sense of joy and excitement she felt in over three years, she found herself standing outside waiting for Sal, Henry, and Jack, and craving of all things pizza. Sal came out and she pulled him into a hug. “You are brilliant!” Henry, Sr. came out on that last line.

“Hey, don’t I get one of those?” he said, as Sal laughed.

George hugged him. “I cannot believe that we didn’t even consider talking about that. We’re actually going to get an investor out of this--an investor!”