Ten-Finger Exercises

Redecorate or write?

“Knock knock,” Margot called as she rapped on the door. At the same time, she tried the door knob.

“Just a minute, just a minue!” cried Wren. “I’m coming. Just hold on.”

“It looks like you’re going, not coming,” said Margot as she opened the door.

“Oh, thank goodness it’s just you,” said Wren.

“Just me?” said Margot. “That’s a fine way to greet a neighbor. Or have you forgotten me? I haven’t been in your blog for ever and a day.” She stuck out her lip in a pout, and Wren laughed.

“I’m so sorry about that, and about the ‘just you’ part too. I was afraid you were the carpenter, and, as you see, I’m not dressed yet. I was headed for the coat closet to find a raincoat to wrap around me, or something.”

“I thought that ‘lingerie’ style clothing was a little young for you,” Margot said, pointing to Wren’s cami and slip. “I see it all the time on twenty-year-olds going down the street though, don’t you? What are they thinking? It will be one less layer to take off in a hurry?”

“It’s certainly what my mother would have called ‘suggestive,’” Wren said. “Will you come have some coffee while I finish getting dressed?” She steered Margot into the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

Margot regarded the assortment of mugs on the open shelf above the coffee pot, and opened the door of the next cupboard. Selecting a Royal Copenhagen blue and white cup and saucer, she poured herself some of Wren’s dark roast. “I don’t suppose there’s any cream, is there?” she called. She opened the fridge for a look. “That’s okay. Milk will do, “ she said.

Wren appeared, screwing on the back to her diamond earring, fully dressed. “I see you found the new china,” she said. “Do you like it?”

“Um, love it. Blue and white—the little black dress of china ware. You just can’t beat it. This scalloped edge is nice too. A little different.”

“I thought so. Rupert brought it back from Denmark when he went on a business trip. He always picks things I like.”

“How is dear brother?” Margo queried.

“Quite well, thank you. He’s redecorating his apartment. He fell in love with all that George Jensen in Scandinavia. I told him it looks like the 60’s all over again, but he doesn’t care. ‘If it was a good year then, it’s a good style now,’ he says.”

“Oh my, I thought you were going to say he’d fallen in love with some woman!” Margot said, fanning herself in a mock relief. “Then there’s still hope for me.”

Wren smiled. “So, what brought you over to knock on my door this morning? “

“Other than to say I think you ought to take my name off your masthead if you’re never going to write about me again, I wanted to ask for something.”

“Oh?”

“Something I’m sure you won’t mind parting with if you have any. Monster zucchini. Have they appeared yet? I want to make some boring zucchini bread.”

Wren laughed. “There’s not much chance it will be boring if you make it; and yes, I do happen to have two I brought in last night. No decent sized ones, of course, just these baseball bats.” She took them out of the refrigerator and set them on the counter. “They’re taking up too much room. I’m glad to find a home for them.”

“You could put them in your umbrella stand by the door, to use as clubs in case someone walks in on you in your slip again. What’s the carpenter coming for, by the way?”