Red Robin was a small chain specializing in gourmet hamburgers. A family oriented place, they had the second best hamburgers in the world, and the best chocolate shakes. It was their second visit in as many weeks.
“Back again?” The hostess recognized them.
“I’d have been back sooner, but I cain’t drive yet.” Ronnie smiled.
“Table for two?” She asked.
“Three, please.” Ian said. “A friend should be joining us shortly.”
The young girl looked at Ian. “I’m sorry Mr. Justyn, are you waiting for Mr. Torkelson?”
“Yes. Yes we are.”
“He’s already waiting for you.” She picked up two menus and two rolls of silverware. “Follow me please. We have you discreetly in the back.”
“Thank you.”
Ronnie followed the young lady, chipperly chatting most of the way. Ian followed behind, lead to a darker end of the restaurant. Ian forgot this was Hollywood, even superstars liked to bring their kids to family burger joints. Of course they would have a section out of the way, a little harder to get to and with dimmer lighting.
When he saw them coming, Jeff Torkelson stood and smiled. “I was beginning to think I’d been stood up.”
“Sorry, the traffic was a little heavier than normal.” Ian shook his hand. “Jeff, this is my son Ronnie.”
Jeff smiled and put out his hand. Ronnie took it and simply said , “Hi.”
Jeff pulled out a chair and Ian helped Ronnie sit. “Ronnie, Mr. Torkelson is going to be starring in a new series this fall.”
“We hope”. Jeff said.
“You look familiar.” Ronnie smiled. “I only used to get two channels, now we got so many I’ll never be able to watch ‘em all.”
“Most of them aren’t worth watching.” Jeff pulled up a chair to one side of him.
Ian tried hard to hide the pride as Ronnie began asking a series of very intelligent questions for a ten-year-old farm boy. Jeff kept looking at Ian, sitting on the other side of his son, with his own impressed look.
“Are you sure, you’re not just a very short executive?” Jeff finally asked.
“Not today.” Ronnie allowed the waitress to put the chocolate shake in front of him that Ian had ordered. “Maybe when I finish grammar school though. I think I’d be fun.”
“Grammar school, huh?” Jeff smiled. “Any idea what you really want to be?”
“Well…” Ronnie thought while sipping his shake. “I think I’d like to be like my Papa.”
“And exactly what is that?” He asked.
Ronnie looked at Torkelson like he should have known. “He makes people’s dreams come true.” The boy grinned from ear to ear.
“That he does.” Jeff grinned at Ian. “That he does.”
Ian put his arm around the back of Ronnie’s chair. “Puppy, Mr. Torkelson and I are going to talk a little shop while we eat. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure.” Ronnie looked at his father. “Do ya need my help? I’m in a pretty important demo…they aim lots a commercials at me.”
Jeff laughed. “That they do.” He sipped his own shake. “Tell you what. I’ll take all the help I can get.”
“What’s the problem Mr. Torkelson?” Ronnie pushed his glass to the side and folded his hands together on the tabletop.
“Well, Younger Justyn…” Jeff started with, making Ronnie grin from ear to ear. “We had a premise for my new show, but it’s not working. Do you understand what I mean by premise?”
Ronnie nodded. “What the show is about.” He turned to Ian. “Right?”
“Right.”
Ronnie cleared his throat and turned back to Jeff. “So the show’s suckin’ big time and you need to figure out how to fix it before September.”
“Exactly.”
Ronnie cocked his head and put his finger to his chin. “Do ya have anything in the...can?”
Even Ian was impressed with that one. “Not yet son. We have some scripts, one good, one okay and the rest really bad.”
“Really, really bad.” Jeff added.
“Well, my Grampaw says that you have to buy the seeds before ya plant the garden. Seems to me what you needs to do is make sure ya got all the right tools, plow the ground up real good and make sure everything’s ready. My guess is ya tossed a handful a seeds from boxes with pretty pictures and didn’t realize that most wildflowers is just weeds.”
There was a cackle from someone sitting behind them. “I think I understood that.” Jeff said.
“He’s been hanging around Tippy Shores a lot.” Ian said. “Ronnie, put that in English for us.”
Ronnie rolled his eyes. “You rushed into something and didn’t think it through. Since ya didn’t loose nothing but a little time and some paper, just yank up the weeds and re-seed the field.”
“Ah!” Jeff nodded. “Younger Mr. Justyn, you want to walk your father and I through this process. Just so we don’t make any mistakes this time.”
“Okay. What cha got that’s good?”
“Well, me, of course?” Jeff said.
“Blow your own horn much?” Ronnie said to another cackle from behind them. Ronnie smiled, “Just teasin’ sir. If ya weren’t good my Papa wouldn’t give you the time of day. What else you bringin’ to the table?”
“The writer’s are good.” Jeff said.
“Great actually.” Ian piped in. “Probably the best comedy writing team around.”
“Then why is the show so bad, Papa?” Ronnie asked.
“Once and a while, when it comes to a series, the original idea is funny and easy to write for, but…” Ian thought a second to properly explain to his son, and maybe even to himself. “But the hard part is coming up with an idea and characters that make it easy to write consistently good episodes.”
“Writers, actors and producers have to come up with twenty two to twenty four really good episodes a year.” Jeff added. “And then do that every year as long as they keep making the show.”
“I never thought of it that way.” Ronnie sipped his milk shake. “So your idea was good, but it’s not…uhm…good enough for more than one or two really funny shows.”
“That’s right.”
“So come up with another idea you can get more good shows out of.” Ronnie sat back in his chair and smiled. “Problem solved.”
“Sort of.” Ian said. “The problem is we have a contract, that looked like a good idea at the time, but has everybody at a disadvantage because of some things that were put in that have kind of painted us in a corner.”
“Like a bill from Congress?” Ronnie asked. Whoever it was behind them, howled this time. Ronnie turned around to see who it was, but turned back.
“Pretty much.” Ian said. “It’s a good contract, but if we adhere to it we turn out a really bad show that loses the company lots of money, and damages the reputations of Mr. Torkelson and some other really good people.”
“Do think you so, too, Mr. Torkelson?” Ronnie asked.
“Yes.”
Ronnie shrugged. “Tear up the contract and start over.”
“What?” Ian said.
“Hey, I’m just a kid wondering where his hamburger is, but a contract is an agreement between two people to make sure everything done a certain way right?”
“Well…yes.” Ian said.
“If both people think it was bad, can’t you both agree to tear it up or make another contract that says the first one sucks and we agree to do this instead?”
Lights went off in both Jeff and Ian’s heads. Ian looked at his son. “Kid, you want a job?”
“I got one.” Ronnie sucked on his straw, obviously at the bottom of his shake. “An’ I’m only getting ten bucks a week for it. Let me get a new agent an’ I’ll get back to ya.”
Once again, there was a cackle of laughter behind them. All three turned to see who it was.
Not finding the culprit, Ian said to Jeff. “Bottom line, do you want to do a series for HRT?”
“Absolutely.”
“Forget anything Simon Kent said.” Ian took a long spoon a stirred a metal cup with more milk shake in it and refilled Ronnie’s glass. “Are you insistent that the series be a spin off?”
“I think it probably could be done, but I’ll go with a better one if you insist it start in September.”
Ian nodded his head. “Here’s my problem, Jeff, and maybe my solution. Kent in all his well meaning glory has already leaked to the press, and done interviews that a new series starring you will be in our Fall line up.”
“Understood.”
“However, and my staff and I have been over every inch of cyberspace to make sure, not once did Kent say or allude to the fact that the show was a spin off, only a project starring Jeff Torkelson. I think delaying anything past that would look bad for both of us. The press will have a field day. They’ll automatically tag whatever show we come up with as a loser, effectively killing it before it has a chance.”
“Okay, back to square one.” Jeff frowned, refilling his own glass.
“What I can do, if all goes well, is buy us a little more time. Here’s the plot. No one knows it yet, but I’ve managed to get my own uber hot property, a three week limited series that I’ll do my best to get run Premiere Week.”
Jeff laughed. “That had better be some hot project.”
Ian smiled and wriggled his eyebrows. “Pretty much guaranteed. I’m still pinching myself.”
“Let me guess…” Jeff smirked. “You scooped the entire entertainment industry and got the rights to ‘Blood Kisses’.”
Ian’s face fell. Jeff shot up straight in his chair. “You got effing ‘Blood Kisses’?”
“Shh!” Ian leaned in. “Keep your voice down. How did you know? There are only about have a dozen people who know that.”
“I was joking.” Jeff said. “You got Amanda Jackson to give you rights? Holy crap, Ian Justyn, will you marry me?”
“Ew…” Ian said to another cackle behind them. “I got more than that, Jeff. I got all three books.”
“All three?”
Ian nodded. “Amanda is writing and directing, plus “Blood Kisses” is going to be my new daytime drama.”
“Holy sh…” Jeff looked at Ronnie, who was busy looking at the people seated behind them. “sshhh…ooot. Holy shoot, Ian, you’re right that will definitely buy us three more weeks.”
“Four if they approve the concert special.” Ian said. “Susan Andrews and Jimmy Sage are both recording new albums and will be launching a tour together in the fall. They’ve both agreed to kick the tour off with a live concert on HRT as part of an updated variety series format Wella and I have come up with.”
“You are either the luckiest SOB in the universe or the next Norman Lear.” Torkelson sat back in his chair and shook his head. “Forgive me, but holy shit, you’re just getting warmed up.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Jeff, but Lear had “All That Glitters” after a string of hits. Let’s make sure you aren’t my first tank.”
“Any ideas?”
“Let’s eat on it, and see what we come up with. The only thing I’ve got is, forgive me, act your age.”
“Huh?” Jeff sat up in his chair again.
“My feeling is when setting up the spin off character they went back to the original Robbie, instead of what he matured to. That took away all his warmth and charm. When you where twenty something it was adorable, now that you’re thirty something all I could think of was, give it up dude and get a real job.”
“I see your point.”
“And I’ve seen much of your other work. You are a wonderful character actor in a matinee idols body.”
“Thank you.”
“You can play something that’s a lot more of a stretch, much more than pretty and adorably dumb. People will watch just because it’s you, but your talent and hopefully some good writing will keep them coming back for more.”
“Papa?” Ronnie patted Ian shoulder. “Forgive me for interrupting, but that woman back there. She looks like Tessie.”
Ian smiled and looked in the direction. “I think you’re right, Ronnie.”
“Whose Tessie?”
Ronnie’s mouth dropped open. “You work in television and you don’t know who Tessie is?”
“Okay…” Jeff smiled. “Who is this woman that I should know?”
“Only the best TV star EVER!” Ronnie gushed. “Papa and I watch her show every day!”
Ian, who’d been busy looking at the woman, turned back to the conversation. “Tess Sinclair.”
Torkelson understood. “Oh, that Tessie.” He looked down at the boy. “You are right, again, Ronnie. She is the best TV star ever. Do you know that the reason I want to stay in television is because my dream, the one you’re Papa is going to make come true, is to one day be half as good as Tessie.”
“Only half?” Ronnie asked.
“Well, I’ll settle for half, but aiming for it all.” Jeff rubbed Ronnie’s head.
Ian found himself staring at the woman seated behind them. “You know, Ronnie, I think that is Tessie.”
“Are you sure?” Ronnie said.
Jeff found himself looking. “I think you’re right.”
“She can hear you know. She’s old, not deaf.” Tess’s voice boomed without turning around. “However she appreciates your kind words.”
Ian blushed. “Sorry, Ms Sinclair. We didn’t mean to disturb your meal.”
“That’s fine Mr. Justyn. Just an old lady now cheating on her diet, and surprised and pleased that someone still remembers her.” She said.
“Oh, Ms Sinclair!” Ronnie protested. “How could anyone forget you! You are the best!”
She turned around in her chair, half a chocolate shake in hand, grinning from ear to ear. “You are absolutely adorable little man. I think I’m your biggest fan.”
Ronnie popped up and started to race right over to her. Ian gently stopped him. “Son, Ms. Sinclair is eating. Remember those conversations we had about respect?”
Ronnie remembered. “Oh yeah.” He turned back to Tess. “I apologize. You just want to enjoy you’re hamburger. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Oh, sonny, it’s okay. I’m just sitting here, and I’m all alone.” She said. “I’m assuming we’re waiting for the cow to get a degree in political science before they kill it and serve us our hamburgers.
“Alone?” He said.
“Just me and my milkshake. Now come over here and give your biggest fan a big hug.” She said holding out her arms, allowing Ronnie to give her a big one.
“Thank you so much.” Ronnie kissed her cheek.
It was obvious the woman was touched. She turned to Ian. “You have a very special boy there, Mr. Justyn.”
“Thank you. You have made him very, very happy.” Ian touched her shoulder. “Me, too.”
“And he’s made an old lady very happy.” She patted his hand and turned back around.
“Ms. Sinclair…” Ian said. “Would you like to join us?”
She waved her hands. “Oh no…you are having a good time without me. Thank you though.”
“Oh please…” Ronnie asked. “Please come and eat with us Miss Tessie.”
“You don’t mind?” She asked Ian.
“We’d be honored.”
Tessie smiled. “I’d love to.” She stood up; Jeff popped up and held the chair beside him open as she gracefully joined them. “You gentlemen are so kind.”
“Ms. Sinclair, you’ve met my son, Ronnie.” Ian nodded to Jeff as they all took their seats. “And this is my friend, Jeff…”
“No need.” Tess reached out her hand. “Torkelson, you’ve done some fine work. I’ve been impressed since moment one.”
Torkelson gushed, while Ian caught the eyes of a waitress and motioned her over. “I’m flattered Ms. Sinclair.”
“Would you tell our waitress, I think her name’s Camilla, that Ms. Sinclair will be joining us?”
“Of course, Mr. Justyn.” She said politely. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Food would be nice.” Tess smiled.
“Of course.” She said and dashed off.
“I’m supposedly doing the whole healthy thing now.” She said. “Twice a month I have to give all that tofu and wheat grass a good coating of greasy red meat and chocolate just to stave off the conniption fits.”
Camilla appeared apologetically and put a second shake in front everyone and began to offer their burgers.
The four chatted like old friends catching up as they ate. Tessie insisted on picking up the tab and bought everyone the biggest gooiest sundaes on the menu. She prattled on and on about the good old days. The three men hung on every word.
“Of course, after fifteen years I was getting a little long in tooth so I packed it in and didn’t look back.” She said. “Marcus Bickle, he was running the network for David Turner back then, suggested a format change to keep me interested, but it was ridiculous. I’d have been playing the only virgin widow in the known universe. What an idiot…” she scooped vanilla, strawberry and chocolate goo into her mouth.
“But you’ve been approached since, haven’t you?’ Ian asked.
“Oh sure, but no one has any guts these days. Shoot, Ian, you seem to be the only one around these days.”
“Coming from you, I consider that a high compliment.”
“You stick out like a sour thumb, young man. I’d work for you in a heart beat.” She sniggered. “Wanna give an old has been a job?”
“Tessie, if I thought you were serious I’d throw you across this table and give you my own special sauce.” Ian confessed.
“Honey, no need to go that far. Besides, I was a dyke before it was cool.” Tessie’s eyes got big. “Oops, forgot about the boy.”
“That’s okay, Miss Tessie.” Ronnie wrestled to feed himself an overstuffed spoon. “We studied dikes in school. Did you come to America straight from Holland?”
Tess put her spoon down and folded her hands in her lap and looked Ronnie straight in the eye. “Yes I did, in a covered wagon.”
“That’s cool.”
Jeff sprayed chocolate sauce across the table laughing, covering Ian’s shirt. “Shoot…” He reached for a napkin to wipe it off, knocking over a half finished shake that landed on a spoon. The spoon somersaulted in the air and landed in Ian’s sundae, tossing a wad of ice cream and a cherry that plopped on Ian’s neck and ran down the inside of his shirt.
“Oooh baby!” Ian said reaching down in his shirt and grabbing a handful of goop from his chest. As he tossed it on the table, he heard a little pop and a metal tinkle as the wad hit the tabletop. “Now that’s cool!”
The table laughed and did it’s best to clean up the mess, Camilla now never far from the table, joining in to help.
“Too bad we didn’t have that on tape.” Tess said, helping the waitress gather used napkins. “We couldn’t recreate that if we tried.”
“You willing to give it a shot?” Ian eyed her.
“You offering me a deal, Sticky Man?” Tessie eyed him back.
“No.” Ian said, wiping his fingers. “I’m flat out offering you a series, a five year guarantee.”
“You produce, I don’t do a pilot, and I have script and cast approval.”
“I’ll exec, we don’t have time for a pilot, and blow the cast and script approval out your ass.” Ian drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “You get equal billing and I’ll match Jeff Torkelson’s contract.”
Tessie sat back in her chair. “Tough guy, huh? Torkelson’s got a fat deal, but I overhear the show’s a piece of crap.”
“You’re overhearing must be bad. We canned that a few minutes ago. I have another idea. Jeff are you in?”
“Me and the legend of comedy? Are you kidding me?” Jeff gushed.
“Put up or shut up.” Tess said.
“Say yes, give me give five minutes and be ready to start in two weeks.” Ian said.
Tessie looked at her watch. “Time’s cheap, Justyn. You got four minutes and 51 seconds.”
Ian flipped open his phone and hit a few buttons. “Ronnie, do you have your cell phone on you?”
“Yes, but I’m only allowed to use it for emergencies.” He reminded him.
“This is an emergency buddy.” Ian dipped his finger in his sundae and wrote a number on the table. “Call this number. Ask for Mr. Jenson Michael. When he’s on the line, hand me the phone.” He said and Ronnie reached in his backpack and pulled out a little red phone.
Ian’s call connected. “Mr. Turner? Ian, not a lot of time, I think I’ve solved the Jeff Torkelson problem…I’ve got a question, a legal one. If Jeff is in agreement can we tear up his contract with no hassle or arrange a codicle?…I’ve got a something better in mind…Same amount of money split into two contracts, but double the back end with percentage raises based on share points.” Ian looked at Jeff and Tess for approval.
Tess nodded and Jeff gave him a thumbs up.
“It was a dream contract.” Jeff whispered to her. “Half is still a hefty raise. I’d rather have a good show than lots of money.”
“Good for you boy.” Tess smiled. “We’re gonna get along just fine.”
“A new show, ready in time for fall…” Ian held up his finger and crossed them. “Co-starring Jeff and Tess Sinclair.” Ian had to hold the phone away from his ear.
“Think that’s a good sign?” Jeff asked Tess.
“Me and Dave go way back. My guess is it’s a good sign.” Tess nodded.
“Right, anything, just get it done…Thank you, Mr. Turner. I’ll be ready to announce on Wednesday.”
“Papa…?” Ronnie handed Ian the other phone.
“Jenson? Thank you for holding.” Ian said. “Can you wait just a second longer, I’m balancing plates. Thanks.”
Ian handed his phone to Ronnie. “Puppy, call Miss Wella and try and tell her what’s going on. See if she can meet us at home, Blake too, if she can get hold of him.”
“Got it.”
“Jeff, call your writers, tell them to meet us in my office at the crack of dawn.” Ian said as Jeff hauled out his phone and started dialing.
“What can I do?” Tess asked.
“Look pretty.”
“Type cast again.” She said, and sat back watching the proactive testosterone in the room.
“Okay, Jenson, I’m back.” Ian said into his phone. “What was the name of that series you gave me a couple of scripts for and an episode breakdown for two seasons?” Ian mouthed the word ‘Pen’. Tess produced one from her purse and handed Ian a stack of napkins. “The comedy…single camera…”
“Ooh, I like that.” Tess said to no one listening.
“Uh huh…” Jeff said to his phone. “First thing in the morning…a whole new concept…”
“Do you have an aversion to taking a role as creator and writing consultant if I’ve got the perfect cast and want to go ahead and green light it for fall…yes, for fall and full year commitment…Jenson…Jenson?” Ian looked into his cell phone and over to Tess. “I think he passed out.”
“Newbie?”
Ian nodded his head. “Already has a spot and a 22 ep commitment for another show.” Ian looked at Ronnie, who nodded and imitated Jeff’s thumbs up. “Tell Blake to bring his magic book…Jenson, are you there?”
“Already asked for it, Papa. She gonna see about some of the other staff, too.” Ronnie said. “We need soda, potato chips and ice cream.”
“You got it, Puppy.” Ian said only half listening.
“Be my agent, kid.” Tessie said, slurping on her shake.
“Thank God, I thought you’d died, and I’d have had to kill you.” Ian said back into Ronnie’s phone. “I’ve already got it cast, just have to get approval from them…Jeff Torkelson and Tess Sinclair…Jenson…Jenson…uhm…Jenson?”
Taking a cue from Ian, Jeff said into his phone. “If we approve there’s already two scripts and a two year breakdown…new guy, already working full time on a new show for fall…He’ll be billed as creator and writing consult…Me, too…”
“Is that guy on the phone still breathing?” Tess asked.
“Jenson…if you can hear me moan or slap the phone on a table or something…” Ian pulled the phone away from his ears again. He rolled his eyes and said, “Okay, buddy, I need you to keep breathing. When you calm down, call me back…”
Ronnie got Ian’s attention by waving his hands in the air. “Meet us at the house.”
“Jenson, when you can sit back up, meet us at the house…uh, bye.”
“Ronnie?” Ian looked at the boy.
“Miss Wella and Mr. Blake will meet us at the house about 9:30.”
“Good boy. Jeff?”
“All ago. We’ll all be in your office at the crack of dawn.”
Great. “Tess?”
“Still beautiful.” She turned to Ronnie. “Ya know kid, you’re almost at good at this as your Dad.”
“Two weeks ago I was gatherin’ eggs and playin’ kickball.” Ronnie slip his phone in his backpack and sighed. “I’m just a natural.”
Ian smiled. “Okay, here’s what I got, a great idea from a hot new writer I’ve got under contract. He calls it ‘The World On A String’, but you can change that if you don’t like it.”
“Who cares about the title?” Tess was all business. “What’s the premise?”
“Tess you’re a legendary actress, successful at every endevour, except her personal life.”
“I breathe that.” Tess said.
“Jeff, you are a thirty something widower with a handful of kids, lost his job, living out of a camper who desperate, decides to look up the mother he’s never met and ask for help.”
“This is a comedy?” Jeff asked.
“An hour long dramedy, but you can cut it to a half hour format if you decide. I’m just giving you the breakdown. How you throw it against the wall we’ll all decide once we get everything and everyone in one room.”
“I don’t get it.” Tess said. “How do the two even get together? They have nothing in common.”
“They have one thing.” Ian smiled. “The superstar is the widower’s mother. It’s a story about two people with nothing but blood in common trying to connect in Hollywood.”
Jeff smiled. “In the land of the superficial and the disconnected.”
“Bullseye. Unless the two of you want to come to the house for the working pajama party…” Ian said.
“I sleep in the raw.” Tess smirked.
“Somebody right that down.” Ian quipped. “I’ll fax the scripts and breakdown when I get home tonight. I remember the very first scene clearly. Tess Sinclair, lounging in all her spectacular glory. An assistant comes to her and says ‘Someone is here that insists on seeing you.’ Tess says send them in. It’s Jeff with the three kids. Jeff says “Hello, mother.” Tess turns to her assistant and asks “I have kids”. He looks through a book and says “October 22, 1976.” Tess says, “Did I win something for it?” And one of the kids says, “Yeah, but it wasn’t mother of the year…granny.” And then we roll opening credits.”
“I like it.” Tess thought.
“The first scene sets up a simple premise and defines all the characters.” Jeff smiled. “Gives a lot of great direction for character and situation to go in.”
“You’ll love this guys writing. I’m sure your team with be able to take and turn it into platinum. Believe me, it’s already gold.” Ian beamed. “We’ll bust the veneer of every everyone and everything in town. Show the pathos of two people trying to reconnect in a town where that is the only thing that’s not an art form.”
“You are amazing.” Jeff smiled.
“It’s what they pay me for.” Ian said.
“And Younger Justyn, what do you think of all this?” Tess asked him.
“I think you should do a show about Papa and Granny.” Ronnie smiled. “They’re funny.”
“Granny?” Jeff asked.
“Tippy Shores, she’s my neighbor.” Ian said.
Tess sat up. “Tippy Shores lets you call her Granny?”
“Yes’m.” Ronnie blinked.
“And she let you live?”
“Yes’m”.
Tess looked at Jeff and smiled. Jeff looked at Tess. “This is going to work. I’m in, Ian, I am so in!”
“Oh hell, kid.” Tess grinned. “You had me at wildflowers is just weeds.”
Ian sighed. “I need a cigarette.”
“Me, too.” She agreed. Suddenly the intensity disappeared and the four laughed and had a great time, contracts and storylines the last thing on their minds. The waitress brought the check and they all walked to the door to go their separate ways.
As Ronnie hugged Tess and Jeff, the waitress stopped Ian. “Mr. Justyn, this must be yours. It was lying in a pool of chocolate sauce.” She held up a sticky locket.
Ian smiled. “Oh yes, thank you. I must have yanked it off when I had ice cream tossed down my shirt.” He took it from her. “I hope we didn’t make too much of a mess.” He slipped her a hundred dollar bill.
“Not at all, Mr. Justyn.” She smiled. “Come again, real soon.” She sauntered off with a great tip in her bounce.
“That’s beautiful.” Tess said. “May I see it?”
“Sure.” He handed it to her. “It’s just an old locket. I think it belonged to my mother, but I’m not really sure where it came from.”
Tess cocked her head. “But it has your name on it.”
“No it doesn’t.” He said.
Tess held it up and Ian looked closely. He had seen the scratches before, but assumed they had been gouged there years before when his uncle had kicked it across the wood floor.
The shiny coating had an extra layer now, a sticky brown layer. The waitress must have wiped it with a wet rag. Clear as day; the scratches were now filled in with chocolate sauce.
Ronnie peered up and read. “I…A…N…that’s your name alright.”
Tippy let herself in Ian’s front door the next morning with her key. “Morning, Baby Doll! I got your paper!”
“Granny!” Ronnie jumped into her arms wearing flannel pants and a tee emblazoned with “Southern Fried”. He planted a big kiss on her.
“My, my we are full of energy this morning.” She put the handful down and look with shock at the living room; blankets, rousing bodies with bed head all over the place. “What’s going on, Sugar Plum? It looks like ‘Gone With the Wind’ threw up in here.”
“Oh, we been workin’.”
“Did the office flood or something?” She took a step into the room as she began to recognize faces. “Morning, Ella.”
Ella mumbled and smacked her mouth. “How much onion dip did I eat last night?” She looked at her shirt. “Please tell me it was onion dip.”
Sean stood beside her folding a blanket. “It was onion dip. You want to borrow a comb or should I ask Ian where his weed eater is?”
Ella put her hand to her hair and dashed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her as Wella stepped out. “Hi, Tippy. What brings you over?” She smiled.
“Colton had an early call this morning, and we noticed all the cars. I thought I’d come over and see if Ian needed a hand, at whatever you’re doing.”
“All nighter.” She said. “Have you seen Blake? He said he had some eye cream I could borrow.”
“No.”
“Oh, Granny.” Ronnie was hopping. “It was so much fun. We created a new TV program.”
“Have you been up all night?” She asked him.
“No, Papa made me go to bed at eleven. It was way past my bedtime, but they was lettin’ me help out. It was so much fun!”
“Sounds like it. Where is your Papa?”
“He said something about breakfast.” Wella said. “I assume he’s in the kitchen pouring cereal in lots of bowls.”
Tippy smiled. “Oh you are a stranger in this land.”
“Ronnie!” Ian bellowed from the kitchen. “Get this thing out of here or I’m serving it on toast!”
Ronnie stopped bouncing. “Gotta go.” He raced to the kitchen in a flash. Before they could blink, Ronnie appeared at the door with the cat in his hands. “Papa says breakfast is ready.”
Tippy smiled. “Just in time.” She took Wella by the arm. “Com’mon Wella. If we’re lucky he made fried green tomatoes.”
“Ian cooks?” She said walking to the kitchen door with her.
“He is definitely the marrying kind.”
Tippy held the door open for her, then propped it open while Wella took in the sight of a breakfast bar that made Shoney’s look like Mother Hubbard’s cupboard.
Wella turned to Tippy. “Does Saxon Allen know this?” She pointed to the steaming food.
On cue, Saxon Allen came into the dining room with a stack of plates. “Morning.”
“Girl what the hell is wrong with you?” Wella said to her.
“Excuse me?”
“Go in that kitchen, throw that man on the floor, grab him by the hair and drag him to the nearest church.”
“Uhm…” Saxon didn’t know what to say.
“Girlfriend, just gimme a plate and get out of my way.” Wella snatched a plate and started piling on the scrambled eggs and bacon. “You white people…” She mumbled. “Hey! Where’s the fried green tomatoes? I was promised…”
Ian appeared with a plate in his hands. “Looking for these?”
Wella smiled. “Morning, Ian.” She speared two and kissed his cheek.
“Morning, Wella.” He bent over slightly to put the plate down on the sideboard. Wella smacked him on the crown of the head.
“Ow!” Ian straightened up. “What was that for?”
“Hoping to knock some sense into you.” She said looking back and forth between Ian and Saxon. “Never mind. I’m not wasting my breath, too much food to eat.” Wella pulled out a chair and sat down.
“She’s kinda cranky in the mornings.” Ian looked at Saxon.
“Honey.” Tippy grinned breaking open a buttermilk biscuit and arranging it on her plate and looked at Saxon. “Did you spend the night, too?”
“Couldn’t help it.” Saxon said. “Ronnie called at ten o’clock and said it was an emergency to come right over and bring potato chips. I got caught up in the festivities.”
Tippy only half looked where she ladled her gravy. “Where’d ya sleep?”
“In the floor.” Wella slapped half a piece of bacon on her plate. “Beside me.”
Tippy scowled and smacked Saxon on the crown of the head as she bent to pick up a biscuit.
“Ow!” Saxon touched her head. “What was that for?”
“I’m with Wella.” Tippy took a seat beside her. “You kids are just plain stupid.” Wella shoved a fork full of tomato in her mouth with one hand and held the other in the air. Tippy high fived it, as she scooted herself in.
“My cinnamon rolls!” Ian disappeared into the kitchen.
“Please tell me they are from a can.” Wella looked at Tippy.
“Not even the icing.”
Wella rolled her eyes. “Screw the blonde stick. That man’s gonna find himself snuggled up next to a chunky black woman with athlete’s foot.”
Jeff Torkelson came strolling in the dining room and took a deep breath. “Saxon, you made breakfast?”
Tippy and Wella sniggered, while Saxon rolled her eyes. “Jeff, I burn pans boiling water.”
“Who made…?”
Ian came out of the kitchen with a pan of pastries. “Anyone want a cinnamon roll? I just took ‘em out of the oven?”
Tippy leaned over and grabbed them, sitting them in front of her and Wella. Ian turned to Jeff. “There’s more in the oven. Coffee or tea?”
“Uh, Coffee…black.” Jeff held up his hand. “Who made the coffee?”
“I did.” Blake looked up from his corner of the table, mouth full of pancakes.
Jeff smiled and took the cup Ian offered. “No offense.”
“None taken. Don’t see how you can drink the stuff anyway.” Ian looked around the room. “Every body awake or at least faking it?”
“I haven’t seen Tessie or Jenson.” Daryn said going back for more biscuits and gravy. “Can we work at your house for breakfast every morning?”
“Tess is in the kitchen on the phone and Jenson’s in the bathroom barfing.” Ian said.
“Again.”
“Remind me to have a bucket handy when he wins the Emmy or at least make sure my seat’s not anywhere near him.” Someone said.
“Are you kidding?” Someone else piped in. “On nomination day he’ll have a coronary.”
Ian looked at his feet. “Ronnie where’s the rodent?”
He looked up from his eggs. “In the backyard playing with Ralphie.”
“Has Ralphie had breakfast?” Ian leaned over to look through the door into the yard.
“You feed the neighbor’s dog?” Saxon asked him.
“He’s hoping the dog will eat the cat.” Tippy said barely taking a breath.
Ian leaned back from the door after noticing the cat and the dog chasing a ball together. “Stupid animals.”
Ronnie grinned and picked up some toast. “They’re friends.” He looked around. “Hey, Papa, do we have any more apple jelly?”
“No. We’ll make some more next week.” Ian opened up a cabinet under the sideboard. “We got grape and blueberry.”
“Blueberry.”
“I’ll take the grape.” Sean said. “Unless you got apple butter hidden somewhere.”
Ian put three jars on the table.
“He makes his own jelly?” Wella looked at Tippy, who just sighed and nodded her head.
“Sad, isn’t it?”
“Tippy? Got a question for you.” Ian said.
“Shoot, Baby Doll.”
“Did you have my locket engraved when you sent it to the jewelers?”
“Why of course not. I wouldn’t even let him buff the scratches out. I just had him polish it and put on a new clasp.” She looked at an empty plate. “Are those other cinnamon rolls ready yet?”
“Saxon, would you mind getting those out of the oven for me?” Ian asked. “It’s the box underneath the round thingys that get hot.”
“Smart aleck. I know that.” Saxon uncrossed her arms. “Do I just push a button and they pop out or do I have to slide something open?”
“I’ll do it.” Daryn got up from the table and headed to the kitchen door.
“Icing’s in the fridge!” Ian yelled as the door closed behind her. He turned back to Tippy. “So you didn’t have my name engraved on it?”
“Of course not, Baby Doll.”
Ian took the locket out of his pocket and dangled it from the chain in front of her. “Then what’s this?”
Tippy put down her fork and wiped her hands while she chewed. “Chocolate.” She swallowed. “I think it’s chocolate.”
“Look at it.”
She reached out and took the locket in the palm of her hand. Ian gently let the chain gather in her palm as well. Tippy looked up at Ian. “I don’t know what to say, Baby Doll. I didn’t do that. I picked it up from the jeweler, inspected it, paid him then brought it straight to you and hung it around your neck.”
“How did it get there?” Ian asked.
“Baby Doll, I have no idea, about either the chocolate or your name.” She handed it back to him.
Blake reached out his hand. “Let me see it.”
Ian gave it to him. “That hasn’t left my neck since you brought it back. How did my name get on it?” He said to no one inparticular.
“Aw…” Blake had flipped open the locket. He and Ella were looking at the pictures. “Is that you?”
Ian blushed. “I assume so, and the other my mother.”
“Let me see.” Jeff said.
Blake handed it to Jeff. “Ian, the lettering is so light. Is it possible that the engraving was always there, and you didn’t realize it until you got kinky with the chocolate?”
“First of all I didn’t get kinky with the chocolate, but I guess that could be it. I knew there were some scratches on the back. I supposed we just couldn’t tell it was lettering until the episode with the sundaes last night.”
“You were getting kinky with chocolate.” Tippy piped up.
“No we weren’t.” Jeff cut right in. “I knocked over a shake at dinner and it steam rolled. Ian, do you have a magnifying glass?”
“Drawer behind you.” Ronnie said.
“When did you discover the name, Baby Doll? This morning in the shower?”
“Gross. I’m not putting chocolate sauce on my body!”
“How do you feel about whipped cream?” Wella smiled.
Ian looked at her and smirked. “Depends on whose eating it.”
“Will you marry me?” Wella pushed her plate aside.
“Wouldn’t you rather just use me, toss me aside and come back again when you need a real man?”
There were catcalls while Tippy and Wella high fived again.
Jeff looked up from studying the locket with a magnifying glass. “Have you ever tried caramel?”
Wella beamed. “Party at my house Saturday night.” She pointed at Jeff. “You is invited.”
“People.” Ronnie spoke up. “There are children in the room still trying to eat.”
“Sorry, Ronnie.” Wella bit her lip and put the napkin from her lap to her plate. “Ian I’ll help with the pots and pans.”
Ian looked at her like she was an idiot. “What barn were you raised in? You clean as you cook.”
Wella sat back down and looked at Saxon. “Girl, we got to chat.”
“Speaking of parties.” Ian announced. “The party will be here on Saturday.”
“Party?” Daryn came back in with a tray of iced rolls that quickly got snapped up. “What’d I miss?”
“We pulled an all-nighter that, I must say, was a big success. I talked with David Turner this morning, and he’s agreed to give everyone Friday off. Saturday morning, bring your families, friends, whoever. We’ll eat and relax in the backyard. Bring swim suits.”
“You’re gonna cook?” Sean looked up hopefully.
“I’m gonna cook, breakfast and lunch.” Ian waited for the cheers. “Now, I thought we would do a little work. Pearce Warner will be here, and I though we’d do a round table on ‘America Alive!’ just the way we did with ‘World On A String’, and I thought our friends and relatives, since they are our target audience, would be perfect sounding boards. I promise not too much work, mostly fun.”
“Speaking of work.” Blake stood up. “Where’s Lee?”
“Over here.” Lee looked up from his cinnamon roll.
“You’ve got the equipment ready?” Blake asked.
“Waiting for us when we arrive.” Lee munched.
“Did we find a baby?” Someone else asked.
Jeff motioned Ian over to him with his finger. “Ian, buddy, got another mystery for you.”
“Shoot.” Ian came over with Saxon at his side.
“This isn’t your baby picture.”
“How can you be sure?” Saxon asked.
“See for yourself.” Jeff handed her the locket and the magnifying glass. Jeff looked at Ian. “The baby’s naked.”
Ian blushed. “Well, yes, but its such a tiny shot. Probably cut out of a bigger picture.
“He’s right, Ian.” Saxon handed him the glass. “This is definitely not you.”
“You can barely tell.” Jeff said.
“Oh my God.” Ian said quietly.
“What is it, Baby Doll?” Tippy looked over his shoulder. She squinted her eyes and then Ian allowed her a closer look. “That’s a baby girl.”
Simon Kent was all smiles when he walked in the building that morning. In less than two hours would be the final fall schedule meeting. He knew Justyn and his “team” must be pulling their hair out.
He chuckled to himself as he got off the elevator and stepped out onto Ian’s floor. He caught himself humming, but stopped in time. He was positive the dippy redhead behind the desk didn’t hear him.
“Good morning, dear.” He said.
“Good morning, Mr. Kent.” She smiled. “May I help you?”
“I thought I’d stop by and see if Justyn needed my help.” Simon smiled, hopefully concerned. “Big meeting this morning. Poor boy, must be beside himself.”
The red head cocked her head. “Uh…no. He’s not even in the office yet.”
“Oh?”
“He was taking his son somewhere to go fishing.”
“Fishing?” Kent smirked.
“Deep sea fishing, I think. Would you like me to give him a message?”
“No.” Kent took a step back. “No thank you, but he’ll be in soon?”
“In time for the meeting.”
“Strange.” He thought silently. “Taking a page from my book. Sit back let the peons pull out their hair then blame them.” He ticked off, also in his head.
“Just tell him, I’ll see him in the conference room.” Kent turned to leave. “We’re expected big things from him.” He tossed over his shoulder.
He could hardly wait to get in the elevator, before he said “Big disaster.” As soon as the doors closed he laughed heartily out loud and did a little dance.
The doors came open. Lance Crockett caught him jigging. “I see you heard the rumor, too.” He said as the doors shut.
Kent regained his dignity. “Oh, yes. Poor Justyn. I’m afraid his days are numbered. They called an emergency meeting of the board this morning.”
“What are you talking about?” Lance asked.
“I’ll be surprised if they don’t have him clearing out his desk while we are putting the final touches on the fall schedule. Too bad about the Torkelson show.”
“Kent, what have you been adding to your Metamucil?”
“Oh come one, Lance. You can’t stand the smug little prick any more than I can.”
“True.”
“Your just jealous that I’m the one who put the final nail in his coffin.” Kent stuck his nose up in the air.
“I don’t know anything about Justyn. The board officially fired Jack Tolan this morning, or made him use his built up leave time in leau of the rest of his contract.”
Simon looked at Crockett. “Tolan?”
“Don’t know why, but apparently it was big.” The elevator stopped and the doors opened. “My floor.”
As Lance stepped off the car, he noticed Simon Kent leaned against the wall with visions of sugar plums dancing through his head. “Oh Kent. If the running back and forth to legal, and David Turner with a bigger grin on his face than yours is any indication, that smug little prick neither one of us can stand just side stepped what ever meager cow pile you plopped in his way.”
“I doubt that, Crockett. There’s no way he can salvage the Torkelson fiasco.”
“Kent, you’re the one who forced the contract to begin with. Are you too stupid to smell the crap on your own fingers?”
“Torkelson wanted to work specifically with Justyn. I just stepped aside and let Justyn and the pretty boy scramble to fix something that obviously wasn’t broken.” Kent smiled, sure of himself. “ See you at the meeting.”
“Won’t be there.” Crockett held the doors open another second.
“Won’t be there?” Kent was aghast. “The head of promotions not at the fall schedule meeting? That’s ridiculous. Why?”
“I spit on Superman’s cape in full view of Metropolis. Now I have to keep my distance in order to save my job. Let that be your lesson for the day Lex Luthor.” Lance released the doors and let them shut.
Simon Kent smiled. “Fool.” He said and sighed. “Hmmm…I think I’ll make some calls and start the bidding war for redecorating my new office.” When the elevator doors open he skipped out to his own floor.
No comments:
Post a Comment