GreviousAngel

A Demon As Big As The Ritz

For some reason, Drew's mother took to me. Though I never got over her chilly reserve, I enjoyed her attention. She was everything my mother was not: refined, educated and self-confidant. Her reserve never really crumbled, no matter how long cocktail hour lasted. Unlike his father, she paced herself, and was far more in control. I did not understand Drew's antipathy towards
her. That Winter his family invited me to their cabin for a week of skiing at Christmas. Though I did know how to ski, I had learned from working part time at a small local resort. I had never taken a lesson. I had gotten good enough that make it down the most challenging run on their tiny mountain, but I had no form and my ski attire consisted of a pair of old ski ski pants and
my mother's now out of fashion down jacket. I used gloves I borrowed from my uncles. I had already been to their cabin, on an illicit date with Drew, it was really a luxurious chalet at a tony resort I could never afford to visit. Thinking of my shaky skills and drab attire I almost didn't go, and on the ride up I was alternately exhilarated and terrified.

Drew's family was beyond wealthy. Unlike my family, whose sole financial instrument was a coin-sorting machine, they spoke knowledgeably about stocks, bonds and trusts. I was used to a cash-based system that sometimes came down to rolling quarters and uncrumpling dollar bills to buy groceries. Drew's family measured their cash in thick wads of 20s, 50s and 100s. I noticed one evening that his father's wallet was so stuffed with 100 dollar bills it wouldn't fold. I calculated the bills were at least 1/2 an inch thick. They were cavalier with their funds, it was not unusual, particularly at the cabin, for one of them to absently hand me several large bills and a verbal list of things to buy. The list always included liquor, and I had to remind them I wasn't old enough. They'd amend the list to beer and wine, which I could manage. I was still in my babehood then and shrewd enough to have made friends with the bartender at the apres ski saloon. Not only did his parents not bother to count the change when I returned, they never even asked for it.

After I showed up the first morning in my ski attire, Drew's mother whispered, "Let's us have lunch in town, just the two of us." I nodded. This was my first brush with oysters. After lunch we trawled the shops, until she found one to her liking. I found myself wearing an elegant gray ski suit, with tasteful red piping. She found matching gloves and a hat. The price was more than I ever spent on any piece of clothing, before or since. Even with the stash I'd made on change, there was no way I could afford it. I had just opened my mouth to note this when she slid her credit card over to the clerk.

Back on the street, she shrugged me off as I tried to thank her. We walked for a bit, until she cried "Socks!" and turned into another store. I'd heard of it, it was owned by a local family and had recently celebrated its hundredth anniversary. It was even pricer that the last one. We dawdled down the aisles, looking socks and other gear.

She picked up an thin aluminum wallet, "this would be perfect for jeans, it wouldn't snag." She put it in her back pocket experimentally, then tried it in the front.

A voice rang out, loudly. "Ma'am. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come with me." I stared. It was David, my ex-boyfriend. I tried to squeeze into the sock rack. She ignored him, and continued looking. He wedged himself in front of her, and repeated himself. Even though she was half a head shorter than he was, she gave the impression of looking down at him.

She let the silence hang, awkwardly, then said in a voice so crisp it sliced the air: "And who you might you be?"

David looked a little less certain of himself, and his voice was a shade thinner. "I'm the assistant manager, and I saw you slip something into your pocket."

She stared at him again, until he shifted uncomfortably. "The assistant manager? Go get the manager."

He started, "Ma'am, I'm..."

She cut him off. "Go. Be off. Go. Shoo. Go." David hesitated for a second, then returned with an older man.

Drew's mother barely looked at him as she handed him two pairs of socks and the wallet. "Here, wrap these and put them on my account."

The man began, "Ma'am, my assistant manager has informed me..."

She cut him off. "And I'm informing you that your assistant manger is a ******* idiot, and if I hear one more word out of either one of you I'll have my lawyer down on you for slander so hard you'll bleed money. And don't think I won't call Dumont the minute I get home and tell him about this outrageous insult." Dumont was the name of the owners. I prayed David hadn't seen me. I also prayed she wouldn't actually call Dumont.

She was shaking as we left the store. It took me a second before I realized it wasn't tears, or anger, it was laughter.

"God! That was too rich! What a pipsqueak." She snorted. I'd like to say I rose to David's defense, but I fingered the gray ski suit and kept walking.

* * *
Back at the cabin Drew eyed our purchases as we sipped beer. "So, how was your day with my mother? Did you get any venom on you?"

I told him briefly about the scene with David. "Do you think she'll actually call? I mean, he's a decent guy, and she did slip the wallet into her pocket."

"Nah. Besides, it's Witching Hour. Here. Take her a vodka tonic. She'll have forgotten all about it by dinner."

-GA