An Unwelcome Houseguest

“Well, Claudine, I certainly hope that you’ll be happy while you’re staying in our humble abode.” Mavis Schuyler spoke through clenched teeth in what she believed to be a warm and caring voice but what was in reality something that sounded like the screech of a rusty gate being dragged open. Mavis looked at her son’s girlfriend with distaste. Someone needed to tell this girl that the 60’s had ended decades ago. With long, straggly hair that needed not only a good washing but a good brushing, a peasant blouse, faded denim skirt and bare feet, Claudine would have fit right in at a Woodstock revival or in some revolting health food store stocking up on dried berries and mushroom extract.

Claudine gazed at the hand painted mural that covered one wall of her guest bedroom. “Who painted that?” she inquired.

“Oh, a lovely little man,” Mavis gushed, pleased that at least her possibly future daughter-in-law was able to recognize fine art when she saw it. “He was an absolute treasure. It took him several weeks but I think the effect is stunning, don’t you?”

“It’s very nice,” Claudine responded. “How much did you pay him?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“How much did you pay the artist? I’m sure he wasn’t in a union but he deserved to be paid a decent wage for any work he did for you.”

“Why…I…” Mavis sputtered. She couldn’t remember how much she’d paid Andre but she was fairly certain that she’d given him a gift card to Macy’s and a basket of fruit instead of cash. Safer on the taxes that way. Besides, how was what she paid Andre any business of Claudine's?

“Mrs. Schuyler?” The new housekeeper knocked discreetly on the bedroom door.

Mavis looked at her gratefully. “Yes, Donna?”

“Dinner will be ready in an hour and then I need to leave. I have an emergency at home.”

“If you have an emergency at home, you should leave right now,” Claudine said. “I’m sure Mrs. Schuyler would be happy to pay you for the rest of the day, right?” Claudine looked at Mavis expectantly.

“Why, of course,” Mavis agreed while thinking Over my dead body! Why would I ever pay someone while they weren’t working? Claudine obviously didn’t have the faintest idea of how empires were built. “We’ll work something out, Donna. Run along and I’ll take care of serving dinner.”

Donna scurried out of the room and Mavis started to follow her. The faster she could get away from Claudine, the happier she’d be. “I’ll see you at dinner, Claudine,” she said.

“Did Brad tell you that I don’t eat red meat?”

“No, he didn’t mention that.” They were having a roast. Well, Claudine would have to survive on vegetables and rolls. "We'll find something that you'll like." Mavis left the room, a full force headache blooming behind her eyes. How could Brad have such terrible taste in women? How could he find a creature like Claudine attractive after growing up with a normal woman like herself? Mavis could feel her heart breaking inside her chest. First Tyler had to shack up with that dreadful newspaper reporter and now Brad was in love with a throwback to the Nixon administration. Mavis needed a drink and fast.

She had just finished pouring herself an extra large scotch when the telephone rang. “Yes?” Mavis said warily.

“Mavis, it’s Tom Hartman. How are you?”

“Not very well at the moment, Tom. What can I do for you?”

“It’s about Tiffany. I need to find Vlad but I can’t seem to locate him. Would you happen to know where he is?”

“I haven’t seen Vlad for days.” Mavis hadn't thought about Vlad for days either. She was too wrapped up in Miss Haight-Ashbury upstairs and Brad's apparent obsession with her.

“Well, if you do see him, could you tell him to give me a call? It’s important.”

“Of course.” Mavis hung up the phone, instantly forgetting that Tom had called. He might think whatever he was worrying about was important but Mavis knew that her problems were much bigger and much more important than anything Tom was going through with her niece Tiffany. Mavis was facing the prospect of having what appeared to be a full-blooded Democrat getting her hooks into her oldest and favorite son.

 

Over my dead body, Mavis grimly decided.