Page 8 of Tiffanie

Phineas finished his shopping quickly and headed home. So far this morning off had rocked. He was ninety percent sure Tiffanie was Little. She loved his book recommendations. And the community was responding well to his evil plot to make everyone love to dive into the library resources. Phineas cackled a menacing laugh in the silence of his car before shaking his head at his foolishness.

He sobered, thinking of Tiffanie’s pale skin as he’d left. Hopefully, her tiredness was only from a late night of reading. Something inside Phineas told him to keep his eyes on her.

Chapter Four

Standing at Essie’s big window, Tiffanie watched Phineas’s car disappear down the long drive. She sighed, forgetting she wasn’t alone.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Essie asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Sure. Shall we start with the sweet sixteen party? I’ve got some ideas about the decorations, but I’d love to hear what activities the mother has requested,” Tiffanie said.

“I’ll let you off the hot seat for now, but I expect a full report later.”

“About the birthday balloons?” Tiffanie asked, playing dumb.

Essie rolled her eyes, letting Tiffanie know she wasn’t fooling her at all. She took a minute to look in the large notebook she carried to find her notes. “Here’s what the mother requested: princess cupcakes, tiaras at every place setting, edible glitter for the fake mimosas served in champagne flutes, and extra cheesy mac and cheese.”

“That gives me indigestion thinking about it. So basically, sparkly orange juice, pasta, and dessert? No activities? This party is going to take twenty minutes.”

“A dance floor and the equipment for them to load a playlist,” Essie added.

“That sounds more like a party,” Tiffanie said. “Are the girls going to dress up?”

“Like princesses. Oh, and boys are invited as well.”

“The parents will attend to chaperone?”

“You really pick up on potential problems quickly. Yes. I insisted with a coed party that we have some mothers and fathers around to keep the teenagers out of Uncle Edmund’s rose bushes,” Essie said.

“I would suggest we set up one corner as a photo booth. We can order some funky props like mustaches on sticks and funny sayings. If we wanted to stay with the princess theme, I could find a life-size hunky prince and gorgeous princess for them to pose with.”

“Oh, that sounds ideal. Hold off on the fake people. I bet they’ll have fun without them,” Essie said.

“Definitely. Question… tiaras for the girls? Crowns for the boys? Or concentrate on our princesses?”

“I vote for the princesses alone,” Essie suggested. She paused to stroke the cat. “Do you think the ballroom is the best location for this?”

“We can always set up panels to close off part of the space if the number of attendees is low. I bet with family and friends you’ll fill the space.”

“Probably. Especially if you set up a gift table, refreshments, and places for the teenagers to sit and eat. I’ll get the final numbers thirty days in advance. We’ll finalize the decision then, but I’ll reserve the ballroom for that…. Oh, no! Marmalade!” Essie ducked down, disappearing behind her desk.

Tiffanie set her phone on the cushion and pushed herself to her feet. An orange tail disappeared through the doorway. “What happened?”

“I had all these cards organized into tables for the next singles mixer,” Essie said, slapping jumbled handfuls of cardboard squares onto the top of the desk. Her every move dripped with frustration.

“Oh, no. Let me help you regroup them,” Tiffanie offered. Essie worked so hard. Tiffanie wished she could do more to assist.

Thanks to Essie, her brother had a job with greater flexibility and security, allowing him to take time when needed to attend doctor’s appointments and treatments with her. She’d even let them live in the carriage house without charging them a penny. Essie was an angel on earth.

“I’d love your help, but this is a minefield. Putting the wrong people together could create a battle. When I volunteered to do this, I had no idea. This took me three nights of arranging and rearranging to come up with the perfect table pairings.” Essie pushed herself up to her feet and collapsed into her chair. Her deadly glare could have set those names on fire.

Marmalade is smart to take himself outside.

Essie glanced up suddenly with a glint in her eyes. Tiffanie had seen that look before. She held her breath, waiting to hear what Essie would say.

“I’m not going to redo them. I’m going to make people choose a card as they walk in. The women on the first night. The men at the next one. They can swap a name once if they randomly select their ex.”

“Who joins a singles group that your ex belongs to?” Tiffanie asked.