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OTEC_ArabicForGarden
OTEC the novel		http://literatemachine.com/node/142
OTEC COPYRIGHT (C) 2007 DAWootan, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED by DAWootan



As bad luck would have it, her mother
was home answering the door.
It was an immaculately attired shoffer,
a pre-64 pristine Rolls-Royce, visible curbside behind him.

"Madam, I am here to pick up Lady Kathy her immediate presence is required."
"Why?"
"I was not informed Madam. Merely that it was a matter of some urgency."
"Kathy!"
Kathy peered past her mother, who is standing in the middle of the 
doorway, blocking entry and exit.
" Charles, give me a minute to get dressed."
Kay was stunned, she had long ago accepted, her daughter was a high 
dollar call girl.
The sort of person who screws senators, she was secretly glad someone 
was able to screw them.
But to be on a first name basis with a shoffer who comfortably wearers 
three thousand dollar tailor-made uniforms!
Kathy turned sideways, dressed in a Chanel Suit her mother had never 
seen before, squeezing past.
"We need to talk."
"Obviously." Kathy replied
She walked to the door being held open for her.
She folded herself into the seat, her knees together modestly, her long 
legs rotating smoothly into
the dark interior, after a polite, interval the door closed, the car 
glided away.
Neighbors had gathered standing on their front lawns.

Kay retreated into her home, licking her wounds.
Long ago, she had heard the story about a country boy who, upon finding 
an owls nest, had stolen one of the eggs, holding it close to his body, 
so it would not fatally chill.
He placed the warm owls egg into a clutch of eggs a hen was brooding.

Kay felt an almost painful flash of empathy for the hen.

Kathy had only been in Walters office once before.
They both tried to keep separate, things separate.
In typical Walter fashion his office was smaller than the general managers.

A silver haired elegant matronly lady was sitting behind Walter's desk.
There could be no doubt as to her identity.
Kathy slide into the center chair without being invited.

This was going to be most unpleasant.
She braced herself for the coming ordeal.
She would not lie, screw 'em, she had no assets they couldn't even sue her!

"You knew Walter well."
"Yes."
"Your were friends."
Kathy answered, the true question, truthfully."
'Yes."
"He loved you?"
"Yes" a slight pause
"Probably not as much as he loved you."
"He discussed me with you!?"
"No, he never mentioned you."
"How?.."
Kathy interrupted
"If he didn't love you, he would have."
A long pause.
She could see the attraction her Walter had for this long legged, blond.

"As well as you knew him, do you think such a man as he, would want to 
die, without a woman such as yourself throwing flowers in to his grave."
Kathy misunderstood,
"I was planning on attending later in the afternoon."
"I could post a guard."
"It might be best not to use the hotel guard staff."
The elegant lady behind the desk belly laughed, in most un-matronly fashion.
She was filled with secret joy, and a tiny touch of envy.
Her Walter had been able spend time with such a lovely lady.

"You misunderstand, you are to stand beside me."

"As long as I am not expected to throw more than a single rose, i agree."
"Do you have a color preference?"
"Certainly, a single red rose." a pause
"For you, and a single white rose for me."
The lady blinked.
Not ten women a year like this incredible young woman were born on the 
entire planet.

"Had Walter lived we would have become friends."
"Yes." a pause
"How?"
"Coronary"
"If he had taken greater care to avoid stressful situations he might 
still be alive."
Good God, this young lady had a sense of honor made of steel.
She was freely admitting she may have fucked the man they both loved to 
death.
Seeing the strange light in the woman's eyes Kathy misunderstood.
"He was with you when?"
"Oh goodness, no."
A pause
"It was a gift. I regret I was unable to give him."
The unspoken truth hanging in the air between them, Walter would not 
have wanted to go any other way.
"No, he was beside me, he was cold when i reached for him in the morning.

And so it was done.
The society column, wags, had never before restrained plunging their 
social daggers between any chinks in armor presented to them.
No mention was made of Kathy's special relationship with Walter.
She was introduced as, and referred to as, "A friend of the family." 
which clearly she was.
Walter's, widow treated her as the lovely grand daughter returned from 
college, to share the grief.
	
	[ 20. A mother daughter act ]

Kathy's mother's schedule, as always, caused a problem. She was off, 
gone to work.

Kathy had to wait until the following day for their, previously 
scheduled, mother-daughter fight.

"I will not have some slut whore of a daughter under my roof."
"Fine. I'll move, it takes two or three days to schedule movers, if you 
want me out faster I will have to call in some favors."

"People like Charles?"
"Mother! I hardly know him, he is a servant."

Kay, who had good reason to fear strong drink, had a sudden thirst for a 
water glass of whiskey.

Kathy saw the look.
"Mother come with me next Saturday, I will buy you a drink, lunch, I 
will show you as much of my world as I can."

Had her daughter pulled a baseball bat out from beneath the cheap sofa 
cushions striking her with it, she would have been no less stunned.

She stammered slightly. "Well, er, ah, yes. I would like that very much."

"Please wear your blue outfit you look good in it."

Kathy's mother was not dim witted, Kathy's one hundred fifty IQ, had not 
come to her out of thin air.
Her blue outfit was her only decent outfit.

Kay, would have submitted to being pulled apart by teams of horses, 
before admitting how much she had been looking forward to Saturday.
Her coworkers assumed she had finally got a date with a hunk.

Kay drove them, Kathy had never learned to drive, and never would.

Their first stop was an elegant dress shop, hidden away beneath a modest 
sign.
The clerk looked up smiling, Kay would have sworn the young ladies mouth 
was forming the word Kathy. A brief flicker of the eyes, saying she 
would be right back, a white lie.
She did not come back, the owner of the shop, hurried out taking her place.
The same eye flicker, acting as though she did not recognize Kathy

"How may I help you ladies today?" She asked.
"We need a jacket, one that is ..." She hesitated a moment.
"Suitable for the season." she finished brightly.
"A camels hair perhaps?"
Kay had no idea they make clothing out of camels.
An elegant tan wool jacket was presented for consideration.
There was some discussion.
"Linen?"
"Yes I agree, better for later in the year."
Kay was treated as an animated tailors mannequin.
She was hearing words, like drape and cut.
She and other Rn's regularly talked over peoples head, in medical code.
Now, it was being done to her.
Drape was apparently fabric hanging off of her hips, too much you look 
like a hippo, too little, you look like a boy, the cut was apparently 
the gap in the center, no gap you look like you have no butt. Too much 
you look like you should be in a bowling alley.

Kay found herself wearing the most elegant jacket she had ever seen.
The owner was protesting, if only they could give her a little time, 
even from a house like this, off the rack could never be perfect, could 
they possibly bring it back later?
Apparently, jackets like this came from "houses" not factories.
Kay was standing well away admiring a raincoat called a Burberry, where 
she could watch without being obvious. It was done low behind the 
counter, discretely.
Her daughter counted out hundred dollar bills with the speed and 
precision of a Swiss banker.
One remaining detail, more fast eye movements, she had noticed accompanying
the mental decision to act as though they did not know her daughter.

"Yes, we would pleased, to keep the older jacket for your return."

Back at on the sidewalk Kathy looked left, right, up and down the block.
Not seeing what pleased her, she looked directly across the street.
It was one of those grand old hotels, that survived for centuries in the 
hands of special hotel owners who maintain them like old Dusenberg's, 
which were probably parked in front on the day the hotel opened for 
business.

"Ah!"
"I have heard, they have an elegant rooftop restaurant there."
They jay walked across the street, no on menaced them.
Run down two ladies dressed like that, and their lawyers will wear your 
balls for bow ties

It was dress shop, Déjà vu all over again.
The doorman, everyone they encountered a rapid eye click, in her 
direction, followed by refusing to acknowledge that he had started to 
say. "Kathy!"

There was only one woman on the planet Kay could be.
The long face, large eyes a long nose, if placed on any other face, 
would have been unattractive.
And the mouth, there was an older woman walking around with Kathy's mouth.
 From a block away. It was obvious they were mother and daughter.

The Arabic word for garden, and for heaven is the same word.
They was in an elegant rooftop Garden Restaurant.

Kay had started toward the red velvet rope where tourists lined up 
awaiting their opportunity.
Kay realized her daughter was no longer at her side, being separation 
caused the smiling maître d' to get the K part of Kathy out before the 
rapid eye click

"Ladies I have a table available, toward the back perhaps?"
Kathy followed the man, with Kay following her.
The chair in superior position, facing the entrance was held out for her 
daughter, the inferior chair placing her back to the entrance, was held 
out for the mother.

The negotiations began
"I think I will have the chicken salad, with raspberry tea."
They both knew, ultimately, Kay would have exactly the same thing.
"The veal? , yes of course it is excellent, a European wine sauce, make 
sure you request a bed of wild rice, they have a contract with some 
Indian tribe somewhere, they pick it shipping it directly here.
"Seafood salad? Of course very good. The lobster is of course langosta , 
if you really must have Maine lobster they have it on the menu 
downstairs it would entail a considerable delay.
Do you want me to ask them how long? "
"Rockford salad dressing!?, why don't you just go with the crepes St. jock?"

A giant high dollar poker tournament, to be caught on camera with a 
busted flush for the whole world to see.
Kathy tossed her menu in, indicating she was out of the poker tournament.
She knew this would bring the maître d' scurrying, he had taken over, 
reducing the regular waiter to busboy status.
Nothing happened, she waited, nothing happened.

Kay thought she saw an imperceptible, movement of daughter's little finger.
God, she was going paranoid!

The head waiter appeared instantly.
"Have we decided?" he declared brightly
"I'll have the Mango Chutney chicken salad, with raspberry herbal iced tea."
"Excellent, and you Madame?"
"The same."
A Prussian snap military bow that stopped just short of a heel click.

"Do you come here often?" Her mother deadpanned
"Sometimes, they're not open for dinner."
Good lord and Little Green fishes, her daughter had the menu memorized, 
and the staff obviously addressed her as Kathy!

"Kathy about the money, you used to purchase the coat ... do men pay you?"

"It has happened, I certainly never ask them to.
I could tell them my mother is in the hospital." She said with a 
straight face.
"But if I was obvious about it, the hotel would not tolerate me."
"But then, how do you get all the money?"
"Oh, it's not that much, four thousand a month or so."
Her mother came very close to letting her mouth fall open.
"And you'd never ask?"
"No, never, I thought my heart would stop the first time
I found $100 bill in my handbag.
There was no possible way I could return it."
For the first time Kay noticed the elegant Italian leather purse, that 
looked like it belonged, where it was next to her daughters, slender wrist.
"I could get a cheaper handbag, but the ethics of that would be 
equivalent of telling them mom is in a hospital."

"I see" she said, surrendering to the unavoidable conclusion she never 
would.
The only thing she was sure of was her little girl, was no longer a 
little girl.

The meal was excellent, at its conclusion, Kay was troubled, Kathy had 
forgotten to pay.
She scurried up whispering in her daughters ear.
"Oh, I have a tab." she replied, absently.

If Kay thought the trip through the grand lobby was paranoia inducing,.
It was nothing compared to the elegant piano bar.
The piano player stopped what he was planning, nodding in Kathy's 
direction he began playing a lovely tune, that made her daughter smile.

There was only one man sitting at the bar, he gave them the same 
inscrutable look as a Bartender.

"Kathy, that table is reserved!"
"Yes."
Kay tried a minor version of the, do-you-have-the-entire-menu-memorized 
scam.
She did.
She knew the attributes of every bottle of liquor, standing at the bar back.
Her alcoholic ex-husband did not possess one percent of this knowledge.

She waved a mental white flag,
"What do you suggest?"
"Allow me to surprise you."
The briefest of nods to the Bartender.
The piano bar did not have a cocktail waitress.

"Mm mm, this is incredible, does it have a name?"
"Chambord Alfonso."
"Never heard of it."
Kathy did not reply to the observation.
Finishing the two drinks, in their tiny parody of martini glass did not 
take long.

"Mother will you allow me to buy you a gift?"
Her daughter had already treated her to having her hair and nails done, 
an elegant coat, a marvelous meal,
and a drink."

She was learning. Lack of intelligence and lack of knowledge are 
separate things,
"If you want to."

She did not know if she would ever get used to the paranoia inducing, 
knowing glances surrounding her.
The hotel concierge was impossible to avoid.
He had the same facial expression as the Bartender, a proud biological 
father, unable to acknowledge the relationship to the young lady he 
knows is his daughter.

"How may I be of service?"
"Does the gift shop still have the ladies fingernail scissors, made from 
Swedish steel?"
"They may have discontinued those, perhaps the Solingen German brand we 
carry could be substituted?"
He said hopefully

"Thank you."

Kay had no idea anyone made such a fine collection of small scissors, 
and other implements, designed to help a lady maintain her fingernails.

Who was teaching her daughter these things?

They began having lunch together once every third week.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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