Money Isn't Really Vulgar

Claudine could hardly believe her bad luck. Of all the times for Larry to show up--why did he have to appear now, just when she'd gotten engaged to Brad and was also getting closer to her future brother-in-law, Tyler? Having her common law ex-husband show up was like having a tornado land in the back yard. Not good news any way you looked at it.

"You need to leave this house," she told Larry. "Now."

"I will if you'll agree to meet me for dinner tonight."

"I can't have dinner with you tonight. Brad's taking me to the club for a dinner dance."

Larry raised his eyebrows. "The 'club'? My, my, my--haven't we gotten to be a fine lady since the last time I saw you. What happened to the old Claudine? The one who never shaved her legs and who thought money was vulgar?"

"The old Claudine finally got some money and now she knows that vulgar is the very last thing that money is," Claudine replied. Her eyes darted nervously toward the back door. "Larry, I mean it. You have to leave before any of the Schuylers get home. I need time to explain you."

"Agreed," Larry said. "You need time to explain a lot of things." The look he gave Claudine made her shiver. Larry knew too much about certain connections that she had to people in Schuyler Square, connections that were far too murky for Brad to ever understand. "Okay, I'll go but I want a firm time for the two of us to meet."

"Tomorrow," Claudine said, "at two o'clock."

"Where?"

"I don't know--McDonald's on Center Avenue. Sit in the back where no one can see you."

"You got it, babe," Larry agreed. "Just make sure you don't forget about me. I'd hate to have to let your new family know about your old family."

Claudine looked up at Carrie and saw the rapt interest on the maid's face. "Carrie, would you please show Larry out?"

"Do you want me to help you up?" Carrie asked.

"No, I'm fine. Or I will be fine once he leaves."

Claudine waited until Carrie and Larry were out of the kitchen. With a groan, she got to her knees and then to her feet. Of all the rotten things to happen--this had to be one of the worst. Larry was going to be hard to handle. He'd always been hard to handle but she was positive that this time handling him was going to be like handling a box of explosives.

"Think, Claudine," she told herself. "Think! You have to get Larry to keep his mouth shut about why you really came to Schuyler Square."

But how she was going to do that was beyond the power of Claudine's imagination at that moment. One thing she knew for sure; the sooner Larry left town, the better.