Worth

Chapter 2 (Pt 1)

Violet was so totally up to her knee caps in toddlers the second Sunday of December that she could identify each one by the hair parting and by which ones ran away when their names were screamed from the banquet room. The Grand was hosting a post-bris reception, the kind of do that children cannot cope with, and because Mr. Ed Edmunds, The Grand's manager, could not cope with children he was off in the smoking room chomping on a cigar while Violet was left to conduct business wading in the kiddie pool. It was some relief to see new grown-ups approaching her. Mirabelle Baker and her fiancé, Jerry Nolan, an old acquaintance of Violet's, entered the foyer with ne'er before seen in-laws, presumably to give them the Grand tour. Mirabelle looked psychotically smiley. Violet guessed correctly the in-laws were hers and not Jerry's.

"Hi Violet," she managed to say before Mrs. Nolan, primed for disapproval, shouted, "Is it always this noisy?"

"Must be a christening, Ma," Jerry said. He hugged Mirabelle around the shoulders to keep her steady.

"It's a bris, well, the after party anyway." Mrs. Nolan grimaced and overtly placed her hand over her heart. "Here," Violet offered, "I'll take your coats." She hung them up in the receiving room and called for one of the serving girls to keep an eye on the small escapees. Violet again turned to the bride and groom. "So, you two, only two weeks left? I bet it felt like the fastest year ever."

"Not for me," Mirabelle stressed with a look only for Violet.

"But now this is the point where you've planned and done all you can so you shouldn't worry about a thing. It's all downhill from here."

"Well when you wait until the last minute I suppose you take what you can get," Mrs. Nolan sniffed.

"Shotgun ready, Mr. Nolan?" Violet sang out, waking the man up.

"Oh," he clucked, "it isn't like that, Miss, er...?"

"Violet March, one of the co-ordinators here. Whatever it is like, I can assure you the place will be entirely respectable two Saturdays from now."

"That's right! She hasn't met the rest of the family," Jerry said. He had a big square jovial face, a perfect champion for quiet Mirabelle.

"No, I haven't. Will they be needing utensils?"

"I beg your pardon," Mrs. Nolan said.

"Not at all," said Violet pleasantly. "Moving right along." Mirabelle followed with a grateful smirk.

They peeked into the banquet room, not wanting to disturb the party. Then Violet gave them the historical tour of the restored 1930s artwork on the walls and the era's influence in details on the doors and windows. She brought the couples out onto the wide terrace, then into the receiving room, then the smoking room where they were greeted by Ed behind a yellow smoky plume.

"Just like an old English library," he said, cocksure that this was the best way to sell the feature.

"It's very warm," Violet agreed. "It balances the polished elegance of the main hall. And it has a wholly different ventilation system so it's ideal for when it's too cold on the terrace." Mrs. Nolan summoned a whimpering cough.

They climbed the lavish staircase to find the bride's dressing room. Even though Mirabelle's ceremony would be at a separate church, the room would be at her disposal if she wanted to take a break from underwire and new shoes without spectators. Father and son wandered off into a corner to discuss something while mother dearest inspected the facilities. Mirabelle placed a hand on Violet's arm and thanked her again for no one thing in particular.