Miranda
Karev works at a local live theatre, in the box office and
occasionally on stage. She's recently gotten back with her former
boyfriend, Jeffry Stanton. They're spending the weekend, trying to
put their relationship back together, only to find themselves snowed
in at her apartment building. There are power outages around town,
though not at her building. She's already been called by her
co-worker, Dave. Now her boss, Brent, is calling her. (Miranda and
Jeff are featured in my novel, So Much It Hurts)
My
phone ringing interrupted us. It was Brent.
"Hallo,
luv!"
"Hallo,
guv!" I replied.
"Is
what's his cheeks there?"
"Yes,
Jeff is here."
"Excellent.
May I bend his ear a wee bit?"
"Have
you been drinking?" Brent isn't usually this cheerful.
"Not
for the last half hour," he drawled. "Prior to, quite a
bit. Had some good news."
"Oh?"
"Yes!
Two bits, actually. First of all It's a girl! Huzzah!"
"Really?
Shaine had the baby? Isn't it a little early?"
"Brought
on by weather, so they tell us. Colt, with the able assistance of the
lads and his lovely bride, delivered her at the theatre, as we were
snowed in."
"That's
so exciting! Congratulations! And what's bit number two?"
"Full
funding for the film, in the bank, luxuriating. Between me and a few
filthy rich, though generous, friends we are completely funded and
ready to rock this spring. One thing, though. She's decided
motherhood is more important than stardom, and she's offering you the
part."
"What?
Me? Oh, my God! Really?"
"I
wouldn't be calling in my semi-sober, passably inebriated state,
otherwise. You and your lad, what's-his-diddle. We want you both. Can
that be arranged? Oh, can the bugger act?"
"I'll
ask what's-his-diddle and you can see for yourself when we get
together with you this week. He's anxious to meet with you."
"Excellent.
When I am my usual sober, sedate self, we shall speak—oh, list,
list!" I heard the phone clatter. "Oh, bollocks," he
grumbled. Fumbling and rattling, another fall or two. I hoped Brent
was at home where he couldn't hurt himself. "Got it! I got it,"
he gasped. "Slippery sucker. Yes. When I am less—" He
burped and hiccuped. "In me cups, we shall chat. Sally will
call. She's sober and sedate as we speak."
"Is
she with you?"
"Yes.
She was kind enough to take me home so I can sober up before I join
my lovely wife and pink swaddled bundle at hospital. I shall not
introduce my wee daughter to the ravages of alcohol at her tender
age." I heard the phone fall again. "F**k balls," he
grumbled.
The
phone clattered once more. "Hi, it's Sally. He's collapsed on
the couch. Drunk off his ass." She lowered her voice. "This
scared the crap out of him. He was terrified we'd lose her. Girl's a
trooper, but thank God for Colt and Suzie! Dave helped too. It was
pretty intense. It took the ambulance over an hour to get to us. By
that time, little Snowdrop was born."
"They
didn't really name her that!"
"Of
course not, her name is Vera Rose after his mother and Shaine's
sister."
©
2018 Dellani Oakes