Lottery Winners Are People Too

"I really like being a lottery winner," Mike told his wife Rosanne. "It sure beats going to work."

Rosanne smiled back at her husband. She couldn't remember ever seeing Mike so relaxed and happy for such a long period of time. "It certainly is better than going to work for Mavis Schuyler."

"Honestly, honey, I don't know how you stood working for that broad for so many years." Mike poured them each a fresh cup of coffee. "It must have been pure torture."

"Not really," Rosanne replied. "I liked working in that gorgeous house and I liked Brad and Tyler. It was Mavis and her late husband who were hard to handle. Especially Mavis."

The telephone rang, interrupting their conversation. Rosanne answered and immediately looked up at Mike in surprise. "Well, hello, Mavis. We were just talking about you...no, of course not. I'd never say anything like that about you! Dinner at the club? Tonight?"

Mike frantically shook his head. "No!" he whispered. "Tell her we're busy! Tell her I'm sick! Anything!"

"I don't know," Rosanne said, stalling for time, "we were thinking about staying home tonight." She listened for a few more moments. "Oh, all right. We'll see you in an hour."

"You didn't," Mike said when Rosanne hung up the phone.

"I'm afraid that I did."

"You said we'd go out to dinner with Mavis Schuyler? Why?"

"She sounded so lonely. You know she doesn't have many friends. I felt sorry for her."

"Honey, that woman treated you like an indentured servant for too many years. Besides, you should feel sorry for her. She's awful and that's why she doesn't have many friends. Do you honestly think she'd ask you out if we hadn't won the lottery?"

"If we hadn't won the lottery I'd still be working for her and there's no way she'd ask me to join her for dinner."

"So why would you do it now?"

"I told you.  I feel sorry for her."

"So send her a box of chocolates but let's not join her for dinner. I suppose she's going to drag one of her loser boyfriends along."

"Oh, Mike, I can't call her up and cancel. It would hurt her feelings."

Mike looked at his wife squarely. "And it didn't hurt your feelings when she forgot your birthday and to give you a Christmas present every year you worked for her? It didn't hurt your feelings when she planted cookies in hidden spots or wrote her initials on the top of tables that you'd forgotten to dust? It didn't hurt your feelings that even though you were her employee for twenty years she still didn't know the names of your kids or your husband?"

"When you put it that way, maybe I will cancel." Rosanne stopped herself. "No, I don't want to be like Mavis. Come on, honey, what's one dinner? It's fun to go to the country club now that we're rich and they do have good food. Tomorrow night you can pick where we'll eat."

"It's a good thing I'm crazy about you," Mike grumbled. "But no matter what, I'm not going to have a good time."

Rosanne didn't reply since in her heart of hearts she knew that anyone who had dinner with Mavis was highly unlikely to have a good time.

Winning the Lottery Plus Shopping Really is a Mood Elevator

"I don't know...what do you think?" Rosanne turned halfway and studied her reflection in the large mirror at Barden's Boutique, Schuyler Square's most exclusive store.

"You look gorgeous!" the clerk, Sally, assured her. "That color does something for you--makes you look ten years younger."

"Really?" Rosanne asked doubtfully. The dress did fit like a dream but it was so unlike anything she'd ever worn. She was used to jeans and comfortable sweaters, not form fitting dresses made out of some kind of material that looked like velvet but felt a lot more comfortable. Rosanne sighed, feeling hopeless. "I just don't know...how much does it cost?"

"It's been marked down to $500.00."

Rosanne almost fainted. "I didn't pay that much for my wedding dress!"

"Rosanne, you just won the lottery. You can buy this entire store if you want to. This is no time to be cheap," Sally chided.

"I may have won the lottery but I don't feel rich. I feel the same. I wish we weren't going to Mavis Schuyler's Christmas party. I have the feeling that it's going to make me sick."

"Mavis invited you to her Christmas bash? You are moving up in the world!"

"Not really. It's just because of the money. I'm sure Mavis will still treat Mike and me like we should be out in the kitchen scraping the dishes instead of mingling with her hoity-toity guests."

"So why are you going?" Sally asked. "Life is too short to be miserable even for one evening."

Rosanne studied her reflection one more time. She did look nice, much nicer than usual, but Sally was totally right. Life was too short to do something as asinine as spend an evening with Mavis Schuyler and the almost embalmed crowd that would undoubtedly be at the Christmas bash. "I will take the dress," she announced.

"You're going to go to the party?"

"No, I'm going to wear it to the party I'm giving at my house. You're invited, Sally. I'm going to invite everyone I know. Even Mavis."

"Now you're talking!" Sally said. "Are you going to invite that cute guy she's dating too? Vlad something or other. He's gorgeous. I don't know how someone as awful as Mavis keeps getting these handsome guys to date her. It sure can't be her personality."

"Sure, I'll invite him too. It's about time Mavis learned how the other three-quarters of the world lives."

"Want to look at shoes?"

"You bet," Rosanne replied.

An Unexpected Invitation

"I could get used to this," Mike remarked to his wife, Rosanne. "I could get used to sleeping late, buying everything I want off the internet and eating out every night. This winning the lottery is all right."

Rosanne grinned at her husband. "It is a lot better than rushing through every day only to come home to a pile of bills you can't afford to pay."

"We can afford to pay the whole town's bills now. Which reminds me--do you think we should move?"

"From Schuyler Square?"

"Sure. We can live anywhere we want now--California, Colorado, Chicago. Or we can buy a nice house right here. The nicest house in town. We could even buy Schuyler Manor."

"I don't believe this." Rosanne looked up from the mail she was opening.

"Someone else asking for money?"

"No. An invitation to the annual Christmas party given by my former boss."

"Mavis invited us to her Christmas party? Are you sure she doesn't want you to serve and me to park the cars?"

"Nope. It says right here that we're cordially invited to a Christmas party hosted by Mavis Schuyler." Rosanne threw the gilt-edged invitation down on the kitchen table, disgust covering her face. "Can you believe that woman? I worked for her for over twenty years and the only kind of invitation I ever got from her in all that time were first cracks at the clothes she was donating to charity. Now that we're rich she wants to be our friends? I don't think so."

"Maybe we should go," Mike said slowly.

"Are you crazy? Why would we put ourselves through that?"

"Because I'm serious about buying Schuyler Manor. We could do it, Rosanne. Then all of us could live together without being crowded--the two of us, the kids, our parents.We'd be like the Waltons, only with a lot of money."

"But I wouldn't know how to act at a party thrown by Mavis. I'm used to being her servant, not her guest."

"Don't you think it might be fun to be on the other side of the fence for once? Have a drink served to you by whatever poor soul she sucks into working for her next?"

"It might at that," Rosanne said slowly. "Only I don't have anything to wear."

Pulling his brand new credit card out of his wallet, Mike handed it to his wife. "Go shopping," he suggested, "and not at a discount store. Go to some place nice and buy whatever your heart desires. You'll be the belle of the Christmas ball."