fried ice cream?”
Life was one big party when you were a kid. Sometimes Chita wished she was still a kid. “We’ll see,” she said.
Ten minutes later, she was making a run to the store for ice cream and cornflakes. And on the way home, she picked up Enrico’s friend Bradley and Anna’s BFF, Emma. What the heck? What was one more kid at this point?
She knew dinner was a success when Bradley announced, “I like coming here.” Obviously, not everyone cared if a woman’s house was clean. After they were done eating, she put the kids to work clearing the table while she cleaned up the stove. After that she could get started on the laundry.
Then she caught sight of her book selection sitting on the kitchen counter. Forget the laundry. She put on a Disney movie for the gang, got her blanket and stretched out on the couch to read, barely aware of the TV blasting.
Sometimes it’s more important to get some rest than to get things done. I learned early on that when we go, go, go, we never give our bodies a chance to recharge. Schedule time in your life to relax and recharge and you’ll find you have more energy and more enthusiasm for the things you need to...
Chita bolted awake when the book fell on her face. Come the new year, she was going to build in more time to keep her batteries charged...before they died for good.
* * *
Alma Tuttle opened her front door on Saturday afternoon and greeted Jen. “It’s about time you arrived. Half my friends are already here.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jen said, lugging her case full of candles through the door. “Like I said when I called, I had a flat tire.”
Alma clasped her hands in front of her. With her tacky Christmas sweater, her tightly permed white hair and her glasses, she looked a little like Mrs. Claus. But the minute the old bat opened her mouth she ruined that illusion. “You should plan for that.”
Plan for flat tires? Was she serious? Jen shoved down her irritation. “I guess I should.”
“Well, you’re here now,” Alma said irritably. “You’d better hurry and get set up.”
This had been a mistake. Alma was the grandmother of the hostess at her last party, and she’d pretended she was booking a party to help her granddaughter earn the special candle set that could only be obtained when two guests booked a party, but Jen suspected she’d been motivated more by avarice than sacrifice.
“She’s finally here,” Alma announced, preceding Jen into the living room where three other senior ladies sat, holding plates filled with store-bought Christmas cookies.
Two of them looked as if they’d been sucking on the same lemon as Alma. The third woman, however, gave Jen a friendly smile. “I love candles,” she said.
Well, that was encouraging. “We have some beautiful ones. And I’m selling all my Christmas stock for fifty percent off today,” Jen told her as she started to unpack her case.
“It’s almost Christmas,” Alma said. “They should be seventy-five percent off.”
What the heck? Profit was highly overrated. “Well, let me know if you see something you really like.” All she wanted at this point was to get rid of these candles and this job.
And the financial burden of the condo. The stupid thing hadn’t sold yet and she’d wanted to move the first Saturday in January. Now she was beginning to worry that she wouldn’t get to move at all, which was really depressing because she was so ready to escape the hectic life she’d created in Seattle. She was so tired of working two jobs, especially these two.
Ever since the office Christmas party, going to work had been far from fun. People were still grumbling over the fact that there hadn’t been enough food. (As if that was her fault? She’d only had so much money to work with.) Leon Eggers, her supervisor’s boss, had made a pass at her at that ill-fated party and she’d told him to go soak his head in the punch bowl. After that, she’d somehow found herself with more work in her in-box. Nothing she could prove, but she knew.
And the candle parties...ugh. It seemed to be getting increasingly harder to convince women they wanted to make time to host a party. Yes, the candles were shipped to them and they had to distribute them to their friends. But so what? They got all kinds of free merchandise as a reward. Of course, the more everyone bought, the more the hostess got. And the more Jen made. Sadly, no one had purchased much at the last party. Hopefully, the smiling woman at today’s event would buy a lot and encourage her friends to do the same.
Now another woman had entered the room. “All right,” Alma said to Jen, “that’s everyone.”
Five women. Not exactly a huge group. But that didn’t mean anything, Jen told herself. All it took was one or two women to go on a spending spree and Alma could earn her holiday centerpiece. And Jen could earn some money.
“Okay,” Jen said in her perky candle-lady voice. “Thank you all for coming today. I know you’ll be happy you did when you see the wonderful bargains I have for you. Soft Glow candles are the finest on the market, guaranteed to bring beauty and light to your home. Today, just for hosting a Soft Glow party, Alma will receive this lovely multipack of pillar candles as a thank-you.” She picked up the set of red candles and the women oohed and ahhed and nodded their heads. She had them now!
Jen went on with her spiel, talking up various candles, candleholders, centerpieces and hurricane lamps. “And, as I said earlier, all our holiday candles are fifty percent off today.”
“Seventy-five percent,” Alma reminded her.
“Seventy-five percent. So, feel free to come up and browse.”
“Aren’t we going to have a draw?” Alma asked.
She held a drawing for a free candle at every party. Between the flat tire and Alma’s irritation, she’d forgotten all about it. Alma hadn’t. “Let’s do that right now,” Jen said, pretending she’d been about to get to it.
One of the lemon-suckers won a set of taper candles. “You’re sure these are dripless?” she asked Jen.
“Absolutely. I use those all the time.”
The woman nodded, but still seemed unconvinced. “I bought some once that were supposed to be dripless. They ruined my silver candlesticks.”
“These won’t, I promise,” Jen said.
“Well, I hope they don’t.” The woman’s tone of voice promised big trouble for Jen if they did.
Now it was time to order. The women looked at the candles. They visited. They looked some more. They ate more cookies. Then the smiling lady announced she had to get going. She had her bridge club at two.
She took her leave and left her empty order form behind.
One of the lemon-suckers purchased a set of holiday votives. For seventy-five percent off. Big spender. “Would you like to host a party?” Jen asked.
“Heavens, no. I have all the candles I need.”
At seventy-five percent off. Jen forced the smile to remain
