"Merely Meredith: A Modern Persuasion" Excerpt--Encounter in the Library

             Working at the [Houston Public] library, among all those books, was really great. There was nothing I appreciated more than good literature, and at the library I found I could encourage that appreciation in others.

            A few hours into my shift, my cell phone rang. It was Charlie.

            “Hey Meredith,” he said, “How’s it going?”

            “Oh,” I sighed, “It’s going! What’s up?”

            “Oh, not much,” he replied, “Just going to do a little sight-seeing with Fred Winston and my sisters today.”

            I smiled; good thing I was away at work. “That’s nice,” I told Charlie.

            “Say, would it be okay for us to meet up there at your library?” Charlie asked casually. “It would be less of a drive for Fred, and it’s a nice central location between here and Beaumont. Would that be okay with you?”

            I almost choked. No, that would not be okay! “He’s coming… you’re meeting him here?” I spluttered.

            Charlie laughed at my reaction, “No need to get all bent out of joint! Do you have a problem with that, Meredith?”

            “Um,” I backpedaled furiously, “No, that would be fine; it’s fine; that’s okay. Thanks for letting me know!”

            “That’s right; I knew you wouldn’t mind. Say, keep an eye out for him, would ya? He might overestimate Texas traffic, and Beaumont is closer to Houston than Austin is. He might be there early, and if he does, just keep track of him and let me know where he is when I get there, ok?”

            Great! So not only was Fred coming, but I might have to face him alone! What could be worse? “Okay, I’ll do that, Charlie.”

            “Thanks, Mer. See you later.”

            “Bye.”

            I hung up the phone and slipped it back into my jeans pocket. I resumed my duties at the library, always keeping a wary eye on the front doors, glancing toward them every time I heard them slam. After much deliberation I decided that perhaps the best course of action would be to see if I could avoid Fred’s sight, when I saw him. I could still keep an eye on him for Charlie—it just probably would be better…easier… if he didn’t see me.

            At about eleven o’clock, I had relaxed considerably, and now weaved between the shelves, re-stocking the returned books. I had a book that needed to return deep into the Nonfiction section. I made my way to the correct shelf, past row after row—

            I stopped as I passed one aisle in particular. Part of me wanted to move on, to pretend I hadn’t seen what my eyes and my mind registered that I had, but my body would not respond. The next aisle was the home for the book in my hand. My heart beat feverishly as I slowly made my way down that aisle to the right place for the book. As I replaced it, I glanced through the gap at the back of the shelf, and I could just make out a shock of dark-blonde hair above a forehead I would know anywhere. I felt icy-cold, then burning-hot all in a moment. He was here! He was right there in front of me, reading some book, with no idea that I was staring at him! I heard the pages rustle, and I looked away so he wouldn’t know I had been staring at him. Besides, I hadn’t been staring at him; I only saw his forehead, and the whole thing probably took less than a minute. It wasn’t staring.

            I pushed the cart of books out of the aisle and prepared to continue before Fred left his aisle.

           

            “Wait, ma’am!”

            I stopped; too late! I turned to face him.

            Fred Winston stared at me; the moment between us seemed to last a whole hour. I could see his blue eyes scanning me in his old, keenly perceptive manner, from head to toe. His jaw fell.

            “Meredith?” he gasped.

            “Hi,” I responded. It was all I could manage. I didn’t even know what to call him. Frederick? Just Fred? In the height of our relationship, I started to call him Freddy—but that was years ago! Wouldn’t he be too old for something like that? I blinked when I realized Fred was speaking.

            “What are you doing here?” he asked me, “I thought you moved.”

            I fought to make my voice come, “I—I work here,” I tried to answer his questions. “I’m going to join my family in California later in November.” Fred was frowning as if he was trying to figure something out. Why wouldn’t he smile at me? Should I not expect him to smile at me? Was he waiting for me to say something else? What else should I say? “Congratulations on—on your graduation,” I said, automatically sticking out my hand.

            Fred shook it. “Oh, yeah, that,” he shrugged mildly. “You didn’t come to the party—“ he began to say, but then he looked at me and raised an eyebrow, “did you?”

            “No,” I answered. What had been the purpose of his comment? Did it really matter that much to him that I wasn’t at the party? He didn’t seem to notice until now, and even now he wasn’t sure if he had seen me there or not. Evidently he hadn’t even been looking for me last night. I watched him glance around the room, searching, I knew, for Charlie and his sisters.

            After a few more excruciatingly awkward moments, he finally asked me, “You know Charlie Mangrove, right?” I was about to answer, when he caught himself, “Of course you do, your sister Cassandra married him, now I remember. Sorry,” he was still staring around the room, and around my head, never at my face. Obviously, he was wishing for Charlie to get there so he could leave. Sure enough, Fred asked me, “Have you seen him yet? I was supposed to meet him here.”

            “No I haven’t,” I answered, not daring to say anymore. I waited for him to say something else—but what would two one-time friends reconnected out of the blue say to each other that we hadn’t already said? “How are you?” We’d passed that point in the conversation, hadn’t we? Now we were just standing there, two feet apart, saying nothing, not making eye contact. It moved beyond awkward and became just plain lame.

            “Well, I need to get back to work,” I finally sighed, when it didn’t appear that Fred intended to say anything else.

            He blinked as if he hadn’t even realized it, then nodded, still not looking at me, “Um, right, uh—I’ll just—“ he didn’t bother to finish his sentence as he dove down the nearest aisle and left me alone.

            I pushed the cart to the next location. Did this mean he still hadn’t forgiven me for breaking it off with him all those years ago? He certainly didn’t seem too torn up about it; at least, he still talked to me—if you could call making short, terse remarks with very little acknowledgement to what the other person said or felt talking to someone. And yet, as I continued to return books and think about our meeting, I couldn’t find it in myself to blame him for treating me so distantly. He had done nothing wrong by me; I had broken it off for no other reason than to give him the freedom he needed to decide for himself if I was the right one, or if there might be someone else for him whose family could love him as she did. Now here I was giving him that chance again.

            I moved to the service elevator at the back of the second floor of the library, the whole of which was the “Nonfiction Section.” There was another one that the public used, but this one was reserved specifically for employees like me. It landed and I moved on through my work, confident that soon Charlie would arrive and Fred would leave, and the worst would be over. As I was around behind the large Reading Nook at the center of the first floor, in the Young Adult Fiction section, I heard Helena’s and Lily’s voices above the hushed hubbub of the normal library crowd. They chatted merrily away as if they were in a shopping mall, not a library. I knew Charlie would be with them, and I thought about approaching them and letting them know Fred was upstairs, but I still hadn’t even seen them when I heard Helena ask, “Where’s Fred Winston?”

            “There he is!” Lily cried out. Then, to my horror, I heard her yell, “Yoohoo! Winston!” I heard several people shush her, and I suddenly felt that, as much as I loved the Mangroves, I didn’t exactly feel like associating myself with them just now. I furtively went about the shelves, knowing that I was safe as long as they were upstairs, and hoping that I would be able to stay out of sight till they left.

            I finished returning all the books and I was pushing the empty cart past the public elevator, when the bell rang and the doors opened. Lily came blasting out the minute she saw me.

            “Oh Meredith!” she cried, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the cart. “We found him! You have to meet this guy!”

            She pulled me over to where Fred had just exited the elevator and stood with Charlie and Helena. She grabbed Fred’s hand just like mine and said, “Fred, this is Cassandra’s sister, Meredith; Meredith, this is Fred W—“

            “We’ve already met,” Fred interrupted her shortly. All three of the Mangroves looked surprised; none of them knew of Fred’s and my previous relationship, nor that we had just come in contact with each other upstairs. Fred looked me in the eye and smiled, as if the whole surprise meeting had not happened, and he was the same congenial, mannerly person everyone thought he was. “How are you, Meredith?” he asked, extending his hand.

            “Fine, thanks,” I answered, shaking his proffered hand; the handshake had been nothing more than a quick grasp upstairs. Now it was a firm, businesslike grip. Why was he doing that? He dropped my hand, and picked up Lily’s and Helena’s. They happily stood on his either side. He looked at Charlie, “Shall we go?”

            “Oh, let’s!” Helena cried.

            “Tallyho!” Lily crowed.

            The trio marched gaily out of the library.

            Charlie turned back to me before following them. “See you tonight, Mer,” he told me.

            I stood numbly for several minutes after they left.

            What in the world had just happened?

<<<<<>>>>>

Also from "Merely Meredith":

-Introducing The Elliots
- Dinner with the Elliots 
-"A Chance To Love" by Meredith Elliot 
-Presenting Mrs. Cassandra Marianne Elliot Mangrove... The Great 
-Charlie's Return 
-Encounter in the Library 
-The Runaway Steed 
-Ellie's Date
-The Incident At Port O'Connor

Serial Saturday: "A Writer's Tale", Part 6

I disembarked onto a wide, sandy terrain. I took a deep breath as my eyes grew accustomed to the brilliant sun. Man, I thought, compared to that ship, this port is vast! I wondered if this was really Port Arriva, and why we had landed here. Perhaps Commander Gerald was—

"Look out!"

As soon as it registered in my brain that what I heard was English, a hand latched onto my arm and yanked me over the space of two yards as a large vehicle clattered past with the noise of an engine.

But it wasn't an engine, it was a wagon, pulled by horses! I felt something metallic against my cheek, on the chest of the person who had saved my life: a silver six-pointed star with the word SHERIFF embossed on it. He released me when the dust settled, and I got a good look at him. Come to think of it, he looked exactly like Commander Gerald, only perhaps dirtier and leaner. But he had that same piercing gaze, the same wise face. He wore a brown hat, a plaid shirt, a leather vest, and jeans. His boots had spurs, and a gun in a holster hung from his belt.

"Are you hurt?" he asked gently.

"N-no," I could not keep my voice steady, "J-just a bit shaken, that's all. Thank you."

He smiled and held out a dirt-streaked, work-worn hand. "The name's Jerry Colson; I'm sheriff of this town."

I confess, after the impeccable environment of the space station, I hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. "I'm Laura," I said.

Jerry raised an eyebrow; I knew he was suspicious that I didn't give a last name. But how do you expect a writer to behave when she meets her own characters in their own worlds?

"Where do you come from, Laura?" Jerry asked, looking over my grey space-station uniform as if he thought I was escaped from an institution or something.

"I—" I hadn't thought about giving my origins; on the spaceship it had been easy to evade it because they had their own conclusions. Here, they left it up to me. I didn't even know which state I was in, much less which towns existed! "Well, I'm not from around here—"

"Sheriff! Sheriff Jerry!"

A man came running up to us, and I had a distinct deja vu moment as his stocky stature and bushy beard reminded me of Galen the dwarf! Of course, he was about two feet taller than Galen had been, but it was unmistakable.

"Ingalls," Jerry greeted him, "What seems to be the problem?"

"Did you see that wagon roll by, Sheriff?"

Jerry nodded, "As a matter of fact, I saved her from it," he nodded toward me.

Ingalls squinted at me, "Who're you?" he asked, but did not wait for an answer. "That's beside the point. Sheriff, you've gotta chase that wagon down and arrest the men! They went and only paid half of what they owe me! Hundreds of dollars in stolen merchandise just sailed out of the city limits!" He shook his fist toward the hills, "Those filthy bandits!"

Jerry shook his head. "Ingalls, go back to your store; you know it is pointless to do anything against the bandits."

"But you're the Sheriff!" Ingalls spluttered, but he obeyed.

Jerry turned back to me with a twinkle in his eye, "Where did you say you were from, again?"

"I didn't, exactly," I admitted, my mind racing furiously; if I tried bluffing, would he call it like the Commander did? "I, uh, lived up there in the bluffs," I stammered, pointing vaguely toward the hills.

Jerry got that same knowing smile that Commander Gerald had worn. "All the way up there," he repeated slowly, "And you walked into town?"

As he spoke, a plan folded together in my mind. "Ran most of the way, actually," I corrected him. "Our home was attacked by the bandits; they killed my folks. I tried to escape on one of their horses like they do in the movies, but I couldn't ride very well in the dark and I only made it out of sight before the horse threw me and went back to its masters. I've been on foot since then."

Jerry's face filled with concern. "A girl alone, parents gone, no home..." his voice trailed off, and he extended a hand toward me. "You best come home with me, then. My wife and I would be delighted to have you."

"Oh," I took his hand, "Thank you, sir!"

"Just answer me one question."

"What's that?"

"What is 'movies'?"

I blushed at my faux pas; I needed to be careful what I said around here! "Oh, just a newfangled...thing from back East. Nothing very important."

Jerry shook his head and said, "Come along, Laura of the bluffs."

I followed him down the street to a quaint red cottage with white trim.

Jerry strode inside and dropped his hat onto the rack just inside the door. He gestured to a small room off to the left. I saw a shelf with some dishes, a plain sofa with quilts spread over it, and a rocking chair.

"Just go on ahead and take a seat. My wife will be in shortly to give you a proper welcome." The way he looked me up and down as he said this plainly told me what he was too polite to say: he would send his wife in to welcome me and find me some proper clothes.

I saw Jerry enter the kitchen, and it was several minutes before a beautiful, matronly woman emerged, beaming at me. Jerry excused himself upstairs to wash up for dinner, and the woman stood at the doorway into the sitting room, obviously unsure what to make of me.

"I'm Carol," she stammered, fussing with wisps of her elegantly turned-up chestnut hair. Her blue eyes twinkled.

"My name is Laura," I responded.

"Well," Carol seemed relieved that at least I had a normal-sounding name, "Let's get you some fresh clothes then, shall we? Follow me." She led me into another room. I wondered if I was going to be wearing one of her dresses, which I was pretty sure we were not the same size.

"Please," I whispered, "please find something I won't look ridiculous in!"

"You're lucky," Carol was saying, "We just had a visitor who gave me some of her cast-offs, to distribute among the young ladies of the town. I think she was about your size, it shouldn't be a problem."

She held up for me a green calico dress with a full, frilly skirt and white smocked collar. I actually thought it was pretty. When I put it on, Carol gasped approvingly, and even I thought the girl in the green dress looked particularly grand. What luck!

Jerry joined us in the dining room for supper. He smiled approvingly at my dress.

"Welcome to Phantom Gulch, Miss Laura. Tomorrow Carol can show you around town. I hope you like it here."

I had to shake my head; first a magical world named Phantasm, and then a space station from the planet Phantessa, and now a town called Phantom Gulch. I was beginning to see a pattern here.

Carol set me up in a room all my own. The bed was short and relatively stiff. The quilt was warm, and the pillow was soft. I found it easy to fall asleep.

The next morning, I joined the Colsons for breakfast, and meek young Carol escorted me into the bustling world of Phantom Gulch.

At any rate, I knew a town like this should have been bustling. It had everything an old western town should have: A general store with stables attached, a saloon, a hotel, a barber shop, and a church. What it did not have was the expected brawling and calling out, the random species of livestock, or the music emanating from the saloon. Everyone scurried about, hushed and rushed, hurried and worried. Everyone kept their heads down and went about their own business, to say nothing of anyone else's business.

Carol saw my confused look and pulled me into the general store to explain while we shopped.

"It's those bandits," she said, "They've practically got the run of this town, and poor Jerry can't do a thing about it!"

"And nobody else wants to try?" I asked, somewhat incredulous.

Carol stared at me with wide eyes. "It's the Sheriff's job to protect the town! And those that have tried to stand up to the bandits have lost everything, even their lives, some of them!"

Carol made her selections and walked up to see Ingalls at the counter. He smiled at me and winked, just as Galen would have done.

"Well, if it isn't our mysterious maid from last evening," he remarked, "What's your name, young lady?"

"Laura," I told him.

He reached over the counter and grasped my hand, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Laura."

Carol began chatting and discussing prices with the storeowner, so I meandered out of the store on my own. Ladies in long dresses like mine milled about, some accompanied by gunslingers, some alone. They all glanced at me funny. I found the stables. A few horses stood out front, probably an example of good old-fashioned advertising. One in particular, a fine white mare, stood patiently while the stable-hand picked her hooves. She reminded me of Jerak the unicorn. I approached her carefully, stroking her face as she whinnied softly into my hands.

“In my country we have an expression, Si lo toques, se compralo.”

The voice made me jump. The stable-hand grinned at me over the rump of the horse. He had a dark, round face, and slanted eyes. He looked Mexican. He gestured to the horse, coming around to her head. “She likes you; she must feel other horses in your touch. You enjoy horses, ma’am?”

I nodded, “Yes, I do; and this is a fine mare.”

The young man shook his head, “Not more than a filly, this one. Normally spirited, too. I guess she trusts you,” he looked me over in keen appraisal. He extended a hand, “My name is Marco.”

“I am Laura,” I said. “I am staying with the Colsons.”

Marco nodded, “Ah, the Sheriff; he is a good man.” He led the white filly to her place among the others and gestured to a couple keg-stools set outside the barn. I took one, and he sat on the other.

I couldn’t help but muse aloud, “It doesn’t sound like good men have much use around here, not against the bandits.”

Marco frowned, “Salvajes! Hombres peligrosos quien se corren despues de oro, y la potencia…y nuestras mujeres.” His voice grew soft and gentle at the last, and I saw a hint of pain in his face. I did not know all that he said, but I knew enough to see that the bandits were not welcome overlords.

“If they’re so awful, Marco,” I pointed out, “Why won’t anybody do anything about them?”

“They have tried, señorita,” Marco shook his head sadly. “A few of them died, and the rest decided that the best thing for them to do would be to leave the town. Those who remain are the ones who think that living here is not as much risk as it would be to strike out on their own. And then there are the business owners, such as Ingalls and Señora Mitchell, the owner of the hotel, and the others who have business here. The bandits let them stay, so long as they can come and take what they want. As long as Sheriff Jerry lets the bandits take from them, they live—we live.”

I shook my head, “I’ll tell you what: I would not be surprised if the bandits come riding into town to stage a coup against the sheriff, once and for all?”

A passing woman gasped when she heard my comment, but she kept walking. Marco shook his head at me, “You are a strange chica, Miss Laura,” he laughed.

I smiled in acceptance. “So, Marco, can you tell me about the bandits? How many are they? Does anyone know why they are here?”

“No, no one knows; there are ten of them, all family, some brothers, some cousins; they call themselves the Posse, and their leader is Big Tom Gregory. He is the father or uncle to the rest of the men. They just rode through one day, whooping and hollering and shooting and making demands and such. They are here only to cause trouble, really; no one knows of a real reason for them to be here, or where they go when they are not in the town.” His eyes lit up and he turned to me, “Except you; did I not hear that there was a new girl in town who lived in the bluffs, whose family was attacked by the Posse?”

I blinked; boy, for a guy who did not know who I was when we first met, he sure knew my story better than I did! I thought fast, “Well, yes, we were attacked, but that was where we lived; even I don’t know where they came from. They came out of nowhere.”

“And they’re going to take over the town, no?” Marco was almost laughing at me now. “I think you are like the old women who believe that every day the world will end.”

I was trying to come up with a reply, when Carol appeared. “Laura!” she called, beckoning me over.

I stood, and Marco stood with me, “It was good to speak with you,” he told me, “come by sometime and I will let you ride the white mare.”

“I’d welcome the opportunity,” I replied, “thank you, Marco.”

Marco waved to Carol, “Buenos dias, Señora,” he called.

“Yes, good day, Marco,” Carol replied cheerily. She nodded to me as I fell into step beside her. “I’ve finished my errands; were you really sitting there talking with the stable-hand the whole time?”

I shrugged, “I suppose I was.”

Carol shook her head, “You’re a mighty strange girl, Laura.”

Her comment struck me as odd; why was I strange for being friendly? Was it merely because of the people I’d chosen to be friendly to? Carol and I returned to the house, and I helped her in the kitchen. Jerry returned home by the time we had everything ready. He paused in the doorway and glanced at me, but said nothing. I sat and listened as the couple accompanied their meal with the typical Western banter.

            Jerry shoveled potatoes in his mouth as he grunted, “More folks are saying that every day will only bring us closer to trouble.” Another sidelong glance at me; why the sudden suspicion? Had he heard about my conversation with Marco? I recalled how nervous Carol had been around him, yet then again, Carol seemed nervous around just about everyone, even Ingalls, the kind shop owner. Jerry continued, “Won’t be long now before folks start moving away in droves.”

            I dabbed my mouth with a napkin and glanced at him, “What will you do? Will you and Carol move away?”

            Carol glanced furtively at her husband, who sighed. “We’ll be the last to leave, Laura; that’s the law of the land. The Sheriff has to make sure that everyone else gets out safely in the face of a threat, before he moves out himself as a last resort.” He glared darkly at the thought of the gang of bandits who had driven the small town to such desperate measures. “Something’s gotta give—I just hope it ain’t us.”

            Carol clapped a hand to her mouth and ran from the room. Jerry followed her, and I willingly cleared the table and washed the dishes in a miserable, somber silence. I could still hear Carol’s sobs as I lay in bed that night, trying to fall asleep.

            “Please,” I begged the storyteller (whoever it may be), “please don’t let it come to that.” I closed my eyes, clenching them tight.

            When I opened them again, it was morning.

            I came into the kitchen, where Carol had breakfast set out for the two of us. Her face was clear, and she made no mention of the previous night’s conversation.

            I sat and sipped my coffee, only nibbling at the eggs and muffins.

            The door slammed, and a rough voice cried, “Where is she?”

            Carol leaped to her feet, “Who, Jerry?”

            In answer, Jerry grabbed me by the arm and hauled me out the door. He didn’t stop and he didn’t slow down till we reached his office across the street. He dragged me all the way back to the cells and threw me in one, closing the door,

            “Start talking,” he snapped tersely, “How did you know?”

            My mind buzzed; what exactly had gone wrong in this scenario? “How did I know what?” I inquired.

            “The bandits!” Jerry snapped, his grey eyes alight with fiery anger, “How did you know they’d be coming? You snake! You’re no victim, you’re a spy!”

Next>>>>> 

"Merely Meredith: A Modern Persuasion" Excerpt--Charlie's Return

--> “Oh, Meredith?” She asked me, picking her head up briefly, “I forgot to get the paper. It should be somewhere on or near the porch. Will you get it for me?”

            I walked to the front door and checked the porch. I brought the paper to my sister, who immediately switched off the TV to turn her attention to this new entertainment.

            “So are you feeling any better today?” I asked her as she pored over the Life section.

            “Hm? Oh,” Cassie picked her head up and felt her forehead. “Well, no fever... the nausea is gone too. I guess I just feel still weak from what I have been battling.”

            “Good, I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious,” I said.

            Just then, Cassie picked the paper off the counter with a cry, “Meredith! Good Lord, it’s true!” She showed me the article in her hand.

            It was just a small blurb in the gossip section, but there, printed in the Austin Reporter, was the mention that the Elliots of Beaumont--Texas’ most famous family besides the ones whose ancestors fought in the Alamo--were moving indefinitely to California, essentially “trading states” with the software mogul, Adoniram Croft, CEO and creator of the MyCroft computer operating system.

            “Yep,” I confirmed, “It’s true; we have to be out by Monday, regardless of who’s renting.”

            “And it is confirmed that our house will be occupied by computer people?”

            I shrugged, “I suppose it is; Dad met with Mr. Croft yesterday, and I guess they reached an agreement.”

            “Oh dear!” Cassie began tugging on her collar and fanning her face. “I feel dizzy! I need to sit down.” She sat back on the sofa, wide-eyed and gasping.

            “I know,” I expressed sympathetically, “it’s a lot of change to get used to. It will be very different not living in Texas.”

            “Oh Meredith,” Cassandra burst out, “that’s easy for you to say! You’re just thinking of yourself! What about me? My only comfort in life has been knowing that my family is just hours away in Beaumont! My tether to sanity has been knowing that my dear sister needs only a phone call, and she will be here in an instant! What am I gonna do if I fall sick, and Charlie’s gone again? You’ll be far away, strolling on a beach in Malibu, without a care for your poor sister back in sweltering Texas! What will happen to me?”

            Shakily, Cassandra dropped into an armchair with her hand on her forehead.

            “Cass,” I tried to reason with her, “we didn’t have a choice. Tell you what, though, if you ever need me I promise to hop on the next flight from LA to Austin--”

            “Oh, go away!” Cass snapped, striking toward me with her hand. “You don’t really care; nobody cares about me but Daddy!” She began sobbing loudly.

 

-->

Just then, the phone rang. Cass didn't lift a finger, so I answered it.

            "Hello?"

            "Cassandra?"

            "Hi, Charlie; no, this is Meredith."

            "Meredith!" Charlie laughed, "I'll be hog-tied! Sandie's bridled you into keeping her entertained, has she?"

            I laughed, "She'd kill you if she knew you still call her that."

            "That's the funny thing about your sister, Mer," Charlie responded, "she doesn't have to know about the 'Sandie' thing to find enough reason to kill me, or at least wear me down gradually!"

            I shook my head and moved the conversation along. "You coming home now, Charlie?"

            "Yep," He chirped happily, "Just about to get into the taxi now. Will you still be there when I arrive?"

            "Sure; it's Sunday, remember?"

            "Oh yeah, family dinner; no offense, but like as not I'd forget about that most weeks if it wasn't so important to Cassandra."

            "Well, Charlie, this might be your last one," I told him in a low voice.

            I heard him chuckle; maybe he didn't know that we were moving, "Why's that? Is Cass planning to divorce me or something?"

            "Nothing like that," I reassured him.

            "Nuts!"

            "Charlie!"

            "Sorry!"

            "Dad will explain everything at dinner. You just scoot on home, okay?"

            "I'll be there within the hour."

            "See you then, Charlie!"

            "Bye for now!"

            I hung up the phone and returned to Cassandra.

            "Who was that?" she murmured, picking at the grapefruit she had for breakfast.

            "Charlie just called to say he was on his way home."

            Cass glared at no one in particular, "He talked to you and didn't ask for me?" she demanded.

            I shrugged, keeping it light, "It was just a quick call; he'll be home soon."

            "Soon?" Cass shrieked, and suddenly my little sister was up and running about the house. "Oh my goodness, this house is not fit to be seen I must get it ready for him. Darla! Where is that woman? Darla!"

            Darla, my sister's housekeeper, emerged from the laundry room. "Yes ma'am?"

            "Clean the house! Master Charles is on his way home! He'll be here any minute and it must look presentable!" she clutched at her wild, unkempt hair, "Oh dear, I need to freshen up!" She looked at me. "You too, Meredith," she sniffed and wrinkled her nose, "you smell like the barn." Mrs. Cassandra Musgrove swept up the stairs with an air of extreme importance.

            Darla shook her head as she watched her mistress go. "That woman is so convinced that the world revolves around her, she has no idea how the world goes around at all!"

            I shook my head in disbelief. "Let me get dressed and I'll help you clean up our mess."

            Darla frowned, "Begging your pardon, Miss Meredith, but it's not so much your mess as hers."

            I shrugged, "Either way, I'll be down in a jiffy to help."

            The offer put a smile on Darla's face, as I hoped it would, "Thank you, ma'am, I appreciate your offer."

            I left Darla to get started with her tasks and went to my room. I quickly showered and put on a fresh outfit, and Darla and I worked together to get the house relatively in order.

            We were still hard at it with no sign of Cass when Charlie stumped through the front door.

            "I'm home!" he cried with a grin, dropping his suitcase and spreading his arms wide.

            I smiled and waved the dust rag in my hand at him, "Welcome, stranger!"

            "Oh, I think it's been long enough since you last visited us that you have no room to talk, Missy!" My brother-in-law retorted.

            We hugged, and just then, Cassandra's voice cut in.

            "So you don't care about seeing me first, Charles? Meredith! Why didn't you send him up to me?" She was hurt and offended.

            Charlie went up the stairs as I apologized, "Sorry, sis, I had no idea you were ready."

            She had her arms around him. "I am always ready for my own Charlie." Her tone was more amorous than I'd heard all weekend. She kissed him, and straightaway was businesslike again.

"Now, family dinner is at four, and you know how Daddy hates it when we're late. You have am hour to freshen up from your travels, and when you're done with that I want to hear all about your trip, Charlie dear. Go, go, go! Hurry, darling!" She moved behind him and pushed his back gently.

            Charlie left to the room, and as soon as he closed the door behind him, Cassie returned to her nervous, weak, bossy self.

            "Oh, Meredith, help me, I'm going to faint!" She put her hand to her forehead and stretched the other toward me.

            As feeble as she was, she made it to the bottom of the stairs and to an easy chair. She flopped down, fanning her face.

            "Oh, golly!" she moaned. "The stress of this day is wearing me out. I need to rest. Meredith, darling, could you help Darla? You know I would if I could, but I really don't think I can manage it."

            I glanced at Darla; she shrugged. The capable housekeeper had the remainder of the house well in hand. I turned back to Cassie, but she obviously wasn't looking for an answer from me.

            I went back to my room and packed up the few things I had unpacked. I double-checked myself to make sure I was still presentable for family dinner, and returned to the front room.

            Charlie was just reaching Cassie's side.

            "Oh, Charlie," she gushed, "I missed you so much! Come into the kitchen, and Meredith can get us lunch while you tell me all about it."

            She led Charlie to the kitchen table while telling me, "Just get us both Cokes and those potpies from the fridge, will ya, honey?"

            Charlie looked at me apologetically, but sat at the table with my sister.

            "So, Charles," Cassie began immediately, "How was the convention?"

            Charlie shrugged and leaned back, "Cassandra," he said, "The rest of the nation is under moderate pressure with the economy, but Mangrove Row is among the top ten ranches in the country. They had a livestock auction, but those cattle couldn't hold a candle to ours. I'm having a load of a new type of enriched feed shipped here, and everything is as it has always been. Life as usual on the old family farm." He smiled and grasped Cassie's hand as I finally got to the table with the potpies and Cokes.

            He looked up, "Thank you, Mer." Charlie dug into the flaky, golden crust to the creamy, warm insides. "You know," he turned back to Cass, "one of the lecturers had a very interesting viewpoint on environmental consciousness in stockyard husbandry—"

            "Oh, Charlie!" Cassie suddenly burst out, "How can you talk so about being a husband to your dumb animals when you seemed so reluctant to be a husband to me before? Don't you know what I've been through while you were gone? No, of course not; you never even took any of my calls while you were gone. Honestly, Charles, I have been laid out, flat on my back, ill with one disease after another for the whole week!" Then Cassandra launched into a list of what sicknesses she succumbed to all week. I took a private amusement in noticing that several of the maladies were a good deal more exaggerated and serious than what she had told me only the night before last.

            This, dear reader, is my sister Cassandra. She has all the skills to render her moderately accomplished, but her single greatest skill was the ability to manipulate the people around her. She had an innate knowledge of exactly what the people closest to her needed to hear to do what she wanted. And she wanted a considerable lot. The only ones nearly impervious to her wiles were Dad and Ellie, but she found a way around that by making them feel benevolent for giving her what she wanted. She hinted, wheedled, and whined, she simpered, wept, and caressed; all of it worked.

            To her credit, she managed to find a genuinely good man when she set her sights on the amiable Charlie Musgrove. Though he had never attended Upton, his family was well-enough off to revolve in much the same circles as we did. Still, he would have never warranted a second glance from Dad if it weren't for the way Dad saw him treat the "baby sugar-darlin'" of the Elliot family. Never mind that half of these instances were staged for my father's especial benefit by Cassandra herself as a way of both "courting" Charlie and proving to Dad that he was worthy of her; Dad never suspected a thing. All he saw was this noble, good-looking son of the wealthiest rancher in Texas, paying conspicuous attentions to his daughter. So began the relationship of Cassie's dreams: here was a man who did not need her to prove herself, to whom she owed no explanation, and who took delight (albeit sometimes sacrificial) in doing what she liked best. Cassie complained of him merely because she was a complainer; in reality, I knew she had nothing to complain about in Charlie.

            At last, Cassie finished her recital, received the desired sympathy and comforting from her husband, and the three of us departed for Beaumont.
>>>>>>

Also from "Merely Meredith":

-Introducing The Elliots
- Dinner with the Elliots 
-"A Chance To Love" by Meredith Elliot 
-Presenting Mrs. Cassandra Marianne Elliot Mangrove... The Great 
-Charlie's Return 
-Encounter in the Library 
-The Runaway Steed 
-Ellie's Date
-The Incident At Port O'Connor

"Merely Meredith: A Modern Persuasion" Excerpt--Presenting Mrs. Cassandra Marianne Elliot Mangrove...The Great...

As soon as I settled into the front seat of my Mazda, the car-phone rang.

            "Meredith?" Cass' reedy voice squeaked.

            "Yeah, Cass."

            "Oh good, you're really coming," she sighed with relief. "On your way out, could you stop by the store and pick up a few things?"

            I groaned inwardly, but tried to keep my voice light as I replied, "Sure, Cass; what do you need?"

            "Oh... How about a jar of pickles? Oh, and a box of crackers! And if you could pick up some fish sticks, and a bag of string cheese, and a bag of salad, that would be wonderful!"

            I wondered at the variety of the things she wanted, but I knew she would take offense if I questioned her.

            "Sure," I told my sister, "I'll swing by the store on my way out of town."

            "Lovely!" Cassandra responded quickly, and hung up the phone.

            I picked up the items at the Market Basket and tried to make my way toward the freeway. At last, I was "home free."

            Not an hour after I had gotten on the freeway, Cass called again.

            "Oh, Meredith, I almost forgot! Could you pick up some Light Homestyle Ranch? It's my favorite kind!"

            This was threatening to get out of hand, I could tell. "Cass," I tried to reason with her, "they only carry those at Manny's Foods."

            "Well, I know, Mer!" Cass sounded shocked that I should consider her presumptuous at all. "There's one between Beaumont and Austin, isn't there?"

            I rolled my eyes and checked the GPS. "Yeah, there is, but it's more than ten miles off--"

            "It's just a quick stop, Mer!" Cass whined, "And while you're there, you can pick up a few pints of ice cream. Oh! And some frozen dinners, like those pot pies! And orange juice, I have been craving orange juice!"

            I knew I had to cut her off before she went much longer. "Okay, I'll get all that stuff for you."

            "Oh Meredith! Normally you know I wouldn't put such an insignificant matter on you like this—“

            Oh yeah, you would!

            "--but you know how housekeepers are these days. I swear, Darla has the itchiest palms of anyone I know!" She groaned painfully, most likely for my benefit. "A poor innocent sufferer like me has so few friends these days!"

            "I'll stop by Manny's, and maybe I can make it there before dinner is over."

            "Okay, Meredith, hurry on over!"

            I shook my head and exited the freeway. Cass said to hurry, even as she piled on the errands!

            I picked up the things at Manny's, and by the time I got back in the car, there was another message from my sister.

            "Hey, Mer... I'm out of cookie dough... and soda, but you can just pick up a couple bottles of Coke when you get to Austin. And if you wanted to pick up some doughnuts for tomorrow's breakfast that would be fine."

            I tried to keep my cool, but when I hit the freeway, my temper got the better of me.

            "Does that woman have anything in her larder?" I fumed. "Good golly!" I felt like she had invited me over just so I could get this stuff for her because she was too lazy and too busy being ill to do it herself, and Heaven forbid she be obligated to her own housekeeper to pay her to get them!

            As I got closer to Austin, my blood pressure gradually returned to normal. I couldn't be angry with her, I realized, because this is what I would be glad to do for my sister. By the time I returned to the car after making the last stop, I was myself again. I cranked up the radio and sang myself the rest of the way twenty miles out of town to Charlie's ranch, Mangrove Row.

            Charlie's dog Trig, a border collie, ran out to meet me.

            "Hey girl," I cried as she fawned around my feet, sniffing and panting heavily, "Did you miss me? You're such a good girl!"

            I scratched behind her ears, and she sat perfectly still, enjoying my touch.

            "Where is Cassie, girl?" I asked Trig. "Is she having dinner?" I moved to the back of my car and took out my bag and the groceries. Trig knew what it meant, and she took off toward the house, barking to alert her mistress.

            The Mangrove homestead was a two-story ranch “cottage” with nearly the same square-footage as the Elliot estate, with the exception that rather than being imposing and stuffy, the Mangrove mansion was more like a goodwife opening her arms in welcome.

            The minute I stepped in the door, I was greeted by Cassandra's voice emanating from the den.

            "What is that infernal dog barking so loud for?" she groused.

            I decided to lighten the mood, "Only a poor, weary stranger coming in for something delicious to eat!" I called back, setting the bags of food on the counter.

            Cass, who had been sprawled on the couch watching television and looking as feverish as she could manage, leapt up at my voice with alacrity that belied her fever and ran toward me.

            "Oh Meredith! You're here! Oh good, I'm starving!" she grabbed the box of crackers and returned to the couch, munching away.

            I stood in shock, "Cassandra, it's after seven! You mean you haven't had dinner yet?"

            The weariness instantly returned to Cassie and she barely lifted her hand to as me, "Could you bring me a soda, Mer?" As I did so, she went on, "I wish you wouldn't use that tone with me! Of course I haven't had anything to eat since breakfast because it was just then that I felt just dang-awful in my belly, and I've been worried about keeping things down ever since! Can I get some cheese sticks?" she looked up at me like a female, adult version of Oliver Twist.

            "All right," I told her with a sigh. I was starving, too, so I didn't have the stomach to argue.

            While she munched on cheese and crackers, I pulled out one of the pot pies and heated it in the microwave. Cassie ate her food from a tv tray in the den, and I sat alone at the counter in the kitchen.

When I had finished, I threw away the pie pan and washed the fork I had used. I got myself a tall glass and filled it with orange juice before joining Cassandra in the den.

            She finished her show and clicked off the tv.

            "How are you doing, Cassandra?" I asked her.

            She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Where do I start? Charlie left last weekend to a stockyard convention, as I told you before. The man is so demeaning sometimes! I mean, really! I offered to go with him, to keep him company while he was over there, but he kept coming up with all these reasons why I shouldn’t go. Let me tell you, Meredith,” her tone was almost bragging, “I was so hurt and shocked that my own husband didn’t want me around that I promptly came down with a head cold the next day! Of course then I didn’t want him going off, so sick and all alone, but of course, he told me he’d already paid for the trip, he might as well take it!” Cassie threw up her hands in disgust. “There’s Charlie for you! Oh, Meredith, I’ve been battling sickness after sickness since he’s been gone. It started with a head-cold, then it moved on to a sinus infection, then I felt feverish, then I felt nauseous, and today I’ve just felt lethargic and completely not myself!” Her eyes began to moisten with tears, “And Charlie’s gone and he won’t be back till tomorrow and I’m all alone!”

            I couldn’t help shaking my head and biting back laughter as Cassie covered her face and wept. She claimed that this scared, hypochondriac, weak, spoiled woman was not herself, but if that was so then she had been someone else besides herself for her entire life!

            “You’re not alone, Cass,” I consoled her, “I’m here with you.”

            She continued to whimper as she grasped my hand. “I know,” she gasped, “I know you’re here; it’s just so hard to live in this cruel world sometimes!”

            I patted her shoulder, “Well, I think all you need is plenty of rest. I’m sure you’ll feel perfectly well in the morning.”

            Cassandra braced herself, “You’re right,” she said, “I think I’ll go to bed now.” She immediately stood up, re-wrapped herself in the blanket that had been over her lap, and marched out of the den. I remembered that I had left my suitcase in the kitchen.

            As Cass marched upstairs, I called after her, “Do you have a particular room you want me to use?”

            She didn’t look back or slow down. “Just pick any of the spare rooms. Darla maintains them all.”

            I shook my head, but I glanced through the three downstairs rooms before selecting my favorite one: the one with a view of the horse pasture.

            Charlie was largely a cattleman, and though he knew horses, he didn’t have the time or the skill to take care of them. The barn was largely looked after by an older couple, Donny and Barbi. Donny was out in the field now, rounding up the horses and herding them into the barn. I would have to pay them a visit tomorrow, I decided.

<<<<<>>>>>

Also from "Merely Meredith":

-Introducing The Elliots

- Dinner with the Elliots 

-"A Chance To Love" by Meredith Elliot 

-Presenting Mrs. Cassandra Marianne Elliot Mangrove... The Great 

-Charlie's Return 

-Encounter in the Library 

-The Runaway Steed 

-Ellie's Date

-The Incident At Port O'Connor