Billie's Writing Status Soars

Silvana and mother Caitlin and Natalie with her mother Patricia arrived within minutes of each other to hear the strains of romantic opera music, the beach house was ablaze with every light on. Billie greeted people as they arrived and handed the arrivals a glass of champagne and after the greetings with kisses, invited them to enter.

The visitors boggled as what they saw inside: the candlelit tabled was set with silver service with two types of cold desserts looking spectacular on the table center. Hovering over the table making adjustments was with a waitress formerly dressed in black with a white apron and white head band and while to the right of the table a waiter in black with white shirt and black bow-tie had a bottle of champagne ready to top up glasses. Everyone, apart from Caitlin, held out their glass for a top-up.

When the excited comments died, Billie said grandly, "My dear friends, thank you for sharing in my celebration. I believe my moment in a major breakthrough as a writer has come. Please allow me to read you this short letter from my publishing editor Mrs Bridges."

She read the letter to her visitors who all appeared to be increasingly stunned and when she ended, Silvana seized Billie in a huge hug and yelled, "I knew it, I knew from the time I first met you that you were destined for greatness."

She then burst into tears and as the others gathered around to console her, Billie sobbed, "Let her emotions flow. It's part of what makes a loving female."

Natalie, sobbing, embraced both Billie and Silvana and both mothers appeared emotional and close to tears.

"Right, enough of this, it's time to party. More champagne you lot and Catlin, ask Peter the waiter what you'd prefer to drink."

With drinks in their hands, the two mothers chatted in whispers briefly and then Patricia said, "I'd speak on behalf of Caitlin and myself Billie. It's just a few words. We congratulate you on your major breakthrough and we both wish you and our daughters to know that you coming here to write has enhanced our community in a number of ways."

"But rising beyond that, by your friendship and outstanding example of ideal womanhood, you have inspired out daughters profoundly and that magic will have considerable effect on their future development into womanhood. Caitlin and I salute you."

Sniffing, Billie said, "Thanks ladies. The truth is I was only being myself and your daughters already possessed the basics and all I did was to contribute a little discreet pruning around the edges. You are both great mothers in your individual ways and your daughters will clearly recognized that in the not too distant future. Thank god we have mums to start us on our way."

Even the two hired staff joined in the clapping.

"Thanks guys," Billie said. "You lot to the table as grilled-seared Atlantic salmon fillets are about to be served.".

There was laughter as everybody moved quickly to sit beside Billy.

Laughing, she said she would sit at the head of the table with guests to the right and left of her.

"You guys are making me feel like a princess," she cooed, and that produced relaxed laughter, signaling that the celebration event was really underway.

Chapter 5

At the conclusion of her gala dinner, marking the final 'glowing' prediction of great sales success by her publishing editor for her latest manuscript, she'd told her guests that she'd be leaving in the morning to find her next home.

Amid shock, tears and cries of where would that destination be, she sobbed she did not know where at the moment, expect to say it would be somewhere north because the sea lay immediately to the south.

That explanation went down like a lead balloon.

She truly did not have a plan.

Driving through sprawling Texas, she stopped for lunch and phoned her friend and veteran author Celeste B. Bush, who was visiting a close friend in Dallas.

"Hi, my dear. It's so nice hearing your sweet voice again."

The chatting dragged on until Billie said she must go.

"Celeste, my reason for calling is to ask where do you think I should locate to feel I'm in the center of a writer's world?"

"As your young age Billie, I'd say New York absolutely. I lived in two neighborhoods that you should look at, Chelsea East and Flatiron on Manhattan."

"B-but the rents on Manhattan will be very steep."

"Yes, but the best in anything never come cheaply."

Billie sighed and said that was true. She must go and in New York would search those two areas for something that suited.

"You'll have to share because the landlords are out to suck all the money from you pockets and then some."

"Email details of your latest effort and the estimated publishing date. You have talent, you're completed the hard grind. This new book of yours should be a top runner. Bye Billie."

Billie groaned, switched off her phone, and muttered "fuck." If she followed Celeste's advice, to densely-populated New York with its obscenely high rentals, she would be destined for the poor house.

Then why call Celeste for advice?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Billie muttered, hitting the roadside restaurant's thick oak table top with the palm of her hand.

"Are you okay?" asked a waitress.

"Yes, thanks. Listen, would you go to live in the heart of New York City if you had half-a-chance?"

"I'm a pragmatist but also a romantic to provide the necessary balance. With half-a-chance and not being the young mother than I am, I'd be out that door before you had time to say 'Go Girl' and I'd be on Manhattan Island without 24 hours from now."

"Wow, a non-meat pizza plus a side salad and coffee thanks. Your reply was epic in helping me to decide what I should do."

"Thanks, and Go Girl but not before you have your pizza meal."

* * *

Weary from three days of pounding Manhattan sidewalks to inspect promising promoted apartments, always to be disappointed and even disgusted, Billie called a female requiring a female to room-share.

"I don't want a noisy room-mate, one who swears and acts promiscuously and she needs to be around my age."

"What age would you like me to be?"

"What? Oh, around 40, I'm 42."

"Okay and you would be prepared to give me a bit of slack over age?"

"Hmmm. Well you sound nice. Okay, I'll hold the room for a couple of hours, giving you time to get here and inspect and I want to assess you."

"I'm already in Park Ave, South. I'll be there within ten."

They exchanged names and Billie cut the call. She finished her coffee and after twenty of so paces along the avenue turned and walked a little way into a side street and looked at the slate grey exterior of the building and shrugged indifferently.

She was thinking, not a great find as advertised for two bedrooms, two bathrooms although with the living/dinning room and small gallery kitchen it wouldn't be pokey as those facilities were spread over 1100 sq ft for a monthly rental of $6650.

Melissa opened the door and her smile faded when realizing she was looking at a woman much younger than 40 who probably was in her mid-twenties.

"I said I required someone who was around my age of 42 to room-share with me."

"You did and I asked you to cut some slack."

"I admit that but how much slack do I have to give."

"I'm 26."

"Omigod, well you better come in and inspect what's on offer and then you'll need to be pretty convincing to persuade me to capitulate."

The apartment interior was well maintained and tidy, rather attractive in fact, and the wood polished floors were eye-catching.

During the tour Melissa kept glancing at Billie who hoped that Melissa must be thinking the applicant looked old for her age. But not so.

"Do I know you, Billie?"

"I don't think so."

"What was your surname again?"

"Summers."

Melissa went over to a well-filled bookcase, made a selection and dropped the book on to the coffee table and announced triumphantly, "Billy Summers, author of Celeste B. Bush - From the Orphanage Onward'."

Billie looked down and saw the biography was lying on its front cover. She was looking at a picture of herself as the author and the blurb about her.

"Well?"

"Well, nothing, Melissa. I've made no attempt to deceive you and told you my age as soon as your asked how much slack over age difference I expected you to give me."

"Fair enough. Let's sit and talk about you possibly coming to live here."

They sat, Melissa looking at Billie and shaking her head.

"Gee, girl. You come to New York already acting like a hard-ass New Yorker."

"Melissa, I'm really a friendly person. Let's start negotiating. I'm sick and tired looking for suitable accommodation around here that, on inspection, the apartments turn out not as portrayed in advertisements. I'm interested in this place because it's roomy, compared with some, is well-maintained, tidy and well-appointed and my impression of you as an older person is you are good-mannered, dress well and we are bound to share interests for example, modern American literature.

"Those assumptions are quite accurate, I feel bound to admit."

"There we go. Look, we both know your bedroom is much larger and catches more sun than the second bedroom. Therefore, we should look for similar equity with the sharing of the monthly rent. I suggest I pay $2725."

"But that difference equates to about $1000 a month."

"Actually it's $600."

"Good gracious, do you expect me to agree to that?"

"Yes, if you think it's fair-handed equity when measured against the respective sizes of the bedrooms and respective amenities."

"I-I don't know what to think."

"Then I'll leave you to think about it. Oh, do you like cooking?"

"No, I dislike it and have more failures than successes and that's why I have to eat out most nights."

"Well lucky you. I love cooking and have impressed people with my culinary skills. I plan to be home most nights for dinner if I live here and would do the cooking. I add an additional sweetener by offering to do the weekly household shopping including buying all the food on the shopping list that we compile together with me paying the bill."

"Well, I'm off Melissa. You may wish to hug me as we appear friends already and you possess one of my books."

They hugged and Melissa said, smiling, "You crafty young bitch. I'll call within the next hour."

Billie had only just reached the elevator when her phone went.

"Hi, it's Melissa. Please do come and live with me on the terms you proposed to me. Return now, I'm about to open a bottle of dry French white wine."

"I'll be at the door in less than a minute, Melissa. We'll both benefit from your smart decision."

Billie's moved in smoothly with the welcoming Melissa appearing very pleased, with success becoming evident the next evening when they jointly hosted a cocktail party attended by Melissa's parents and 12 of Melissa's friends.

Melissa had asked, "Who would you like to invite, Billie?"

"I have no friends in New York, but that will change soon. May I suggest we invite the landlord and his lady."

"That creep, I say forget it."

"Melissa, with his woman in the room..."

"His wife."

"With his wife in the room, he's unlikely to attempt to grope you or any of your female friends and perhaps you'll see a different man when he comes here as an invited guest."

"He won't come, he'll sneer and say he doesn't mix socially with tenants."

"Bullshit."

Melissa raised an eyebrow disdainfully.

"Pardon me Melissa, I forgot myself for a moment. Actually, Americans who use that foreign oath tend to modify it to the more acceptable, though more obscure term, of bulldust."

"Melissa, inject courage into your brain and invite them. If they misbehave, I undertake to give them their marching orders."

"Oh yeah, the landlord's wife if a youngish athlete and could probably knock you through an unopened door with one swipe of the arm."

"Let her try. I've practiced Martial Arts for the past 15 years as part of my varied weekly fitness program."

"I'll invite them," said the impressed Melissa. "Try not to break any furniture if you have to evict them."

After Melissa, or Mel as she'd agreed to allow Billie to call her, complained she had nothing to wear to that function because her dresses were 'so old hat'. The new arrival applied some subtle counselling. As a result, Melissa arrived home from work next evening, eyes shining, and excited about the new dress she had been persuaded to purchase.

She tried it on before going off to get ready for the cocktail party, protesting mildly at Billie's offer to do Mel's hair.

"That won't be necessary. I always do my own hair, and competently."

She arrived from her room later to find Billie waiting for her, with a comb and brush in her hand together with a container of hair spray, and pointing to a dining table chair.

Melissa went to the chair with just a pout.

"It will only take 10 minutes, so nothing to lose," Billie smiled reassuringly.

Nine minutes later, Melissa stood in front of the mirror and uttered one word, "Wow."

She turned and hugged Billie and l5 minutes later when two room-share females in the same building arrived, one of them said complimentary, "Wow, the newly renovated Melissa."

That drew a beaming smile from the recipient of that compliment who turned and winked at Billie before introducing her to Maybelle and Chrissie.

The party was underway loudly with muted background music when the last guests, the over-weight but quite good looking and tall landlord Simon Wagner arrived with his beautiful and much younger (second) wife Jolene.

Conversations died because several of the guests were tenants in the building who looked a little stunned. They knew Simon and his family owned their building and five other tenanted buildings.

"This is Simon and wife Jolene," Melissa announced briefly, and went forward and kissed them both on the cheek.

"We're glad to be here," Simon said. "It's been a very long time that one of my family company's tenants has invited me to anything socially."

"Our pleasure Simon," Melissa said.

She pulled Billie forward and had only just finished saying, "This is my newly registered co-tenant..." when Jolene said excitedly, "Omigod, the sensational new rising-star author Billie Summer from Texas. I have her hilarious book titled 'Butterscotch Sex' set in a confectionary factory in England."

"But perhaps more significantly, my older sister continues to rave about Billie's more recently published 'Wretched Rachel'. It's fiction but covertly gives heaps of obviously well-researched helpful information about raising a teenage daughter through her almost impossibly difficult to cope teenage years that sometimes thankfully pass relatively shortly but in other instances last the best part of a decade."

"Diana says that after reading that book, she really began to understand their daughter and why she was acting so damn infuriatingly. Interestingly, she'd given the book to her friend Sarah-Anne to read, half-expecting it to be thrown back at her as her friend appeared to be rather short-fused these days due to quote, The little bitch at home, unquote."

"But to my sister's astonishment, Sarah-Anne glanced at the picture of the author on the back-cover and said she looked young enough to know something about the crap that engulfs you in your early teens and said she might read the book."

"Then two days later, Sarah-Anne said to her Diana that for the first time, despite of heaps of mother-daughter counselling she'd been involved in, she really understood that she was not born a witch that had caused her daughter's problem and some she took onboard some tips from reading about how to deal with her situation and they had been rather useful. Today, in such a short time, Sarah-Anne has become rather more amiable and her teenage daughter once again kisses her mother and me quite affectionately."

Someone began clapping and applause broke out spontaneously and included the two males in the room.

Some of the guests gathered around Billie and one female who had read three of Billie's books called her famous, to which Billie snorted that was bullshit, resulting in a huge round of laughter.

"I don't need to apologize for any off-center language as you probably realize I come from Texas," Billie giggled.

Beginning the tidy-up after the last guests departed, Melissa said to her co-helper, "That was a great evening, thanks to you, and don't say bullshit."

"No, a great evening. And many of you friends liked what they called your new look."

"Yes, and I'm thrilled about that. You aim to persuade me to modify myself even more."

"Would I do that?"

"Yes."

"Okay and I'll say this; it won't take too much to bring you up to date."

"I'm relieved that last bit Billie. My big announcement is you have your first real friend in New York after me."

"Jolene?"

"Yes."

"I suspected it might be. She almost broke one of my ribs when hugging and kissing me good night."

"Yeah, well she has a Texas family connection. Her mother comes from Fort Worth. She's invited us to have dinner this Saturday with them."

"Good, I really like her. She's not all hat and no cattle."

"What?"

"Oh nothing. Um, 'All hat, no cattle' is an old saying my dad uses when my mother says she'll do something but fails to do it."

"You know what, you're funny."

"Thanks Mel, and I like you too."

Two days later, Billie had filled in her time by sight-seeing to learn more about her new hometown. While walking around she received a call from a guy O'Brien.

"Hi Miss Summers. My name is Jerry O'Brien of Toole & Whitman, commercial photography and video Studios, in Brooklyn. I have been contracted by your publishing editor Mrs Susan Bridges to provide her with a series of photos of you in a park-like setting for your publishing house to use on the back cover of your upcoming book and for distribution in promo pre-launch packages that will be set to leading magazines and selected magazines with widely-read book news and reviews pages."

He added he'd come to her in Texas.

"Jerry, how can I verify that this call is genuine?"

"Omigod, where do you hail from?"

"Texas."

"Oh yeah, that explains why you are cautious of New Yorkers. Damn, I've been sworn to secrecy at the moment and we were hired to produce the proposed book cover concept."

"What was the topic of that cover assignment?"

"All I can say it is a girl hugging the neck of a bay horse that was later changed to a chestnut horse when after that change in color was made to the manuscript with your agreement."

"You have been authenticated, Jerry. How does it feel?"

"A little like emerging after been stretched on a rack," he said, and they laughed.

"Come and fetch me at a time to suit you as I'm currently living in New York. I'd like you to show me around Brooklyn if you are familiar with the area and then take me somewhere traditional for lunch, say somewhat bohemian if such a place exists in Brooklyn."

"It does. Tell me, why do you wish me to do this with you?"

"The expectations are possibly better than sex."

There was a pause until he said, "Omigod, you wish to show you the setting for your next novel."

"Possible, depending how well I believe you have authenticated the true spirit of Brooklyn."

"Right, give me your address and be outside your building at 6.00 am on Wednesday and I'll pick you up."

"Isn't 6.00 rather early? The place will be half-dead."

"Go later and your chance of gaining some knowledge of a community waking up to the morning will have been missed. You know, that early morning-late evening situations is what professional photographers want to see and feel and I say, politely, so should authors who are seeking authenticity."

"Brilliantly explained, I'll be outside at 6.00 and will expect to be dropped off home by 10 pm."