The party planning went without a hitch. People quickly responded to the invitation when they knew it was to support our dear Muffin, saying what they would be bringing their famous dumplings or a bottle of wine or whatever, the date was booked, the place was fixed, the time was set. Then, I asked Muffin if she would come and have dinner at my place that day. To which she answered:
“I can’t, Auntie Pattie will be visiting, don’t you remember, I told you she would be spending the week with us! You even said you would brunch with us on Sunday!”
At which point I felt doubly stupid, and not without reason, as Charles helpfully pointed out when I told him.
The aforementioned Auntie Pattie was Muffin’s Aunt Patricia. A dear creature and a very well-groomed ewe, with fancy coloured hair-dos and tons of jewelry, musically clinging and tinkling this way and that, always moving around in a cloud of perfume. The puzzling thing about Aunt Patricia was that, although she was so extremely fashionable, she also looked one blink away from being an old-timey grandma with sensible stockings, knitting an ugly jumper and going baaaa about the decrepitude of youth in today’s world. It’s as if she only needed to remove her neon glasses and shiny jacket to instantly transform in Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple. Except Miss Marple is supposed to be smart and attentive, while Aunt Patricia… how can I put it delicately? While Aunt Patricia… was unlikely to notice whether we were a dozen at brunch, instead of four.
That’s why I canceled the party and replaced it with an invitation to brunch. I booked a restaurant in the Old Montreal (Aunt Patricia loved the Old Town) and voila! Of course, some people still turned up at my place on the Saturday evening, but there always will be a few who will not read their emails. Obviously, I couldn’t really turn them out, could I, and that went a long way toward explaining why I was not feeling my best on the Sunday morning. Not that I had engaged in alcoholic revelry of any kind, you know, just that, with one thing and another, I had not had my eight precious hours of sleep.
Here I was then, on said Sunday, before coffee, cold and confused in the white morning, shaking Aunt Patricia’s hand and causing a jingling reminiscent both of cow bells in the prairies and Christmas cheer.
“Soooooo glad to see you again, Blue!! How do you do? Still single? Didn’t meet Prince Charming yet?
-Auntie Pattie!! groaned Muffin.
-Noooooo, no, dear, I’m just asking! I know Blue is a nice independant young Owl, and she certainly doesn’t need…
-I want pancakes!” interposed Jimmy.
Good kid, I thought, I’ll have to slip him some cake later if I can.
“Jimmy, did you say Hello to Blue? No you didn’t I didn’t hear you really Jimmy you should know better…
-I want pancakes!
-Independant, yes, but nooooot getting any younger, huh?”
And so we went on, slowly walking along the quay, ice silently drifting on the Saint Laurent on one side, and the echoes of music and laughter from the ice rink on the other, the three of them joyously speaking on top of each other and jostling me good-humouredly.
All of that before my coffee… I was honestly starting to wonder if it was worth it, and if a better solution wouldn’t be to throw Muffin, her aunt, and Jimmy in the Saint Laurent and go have a nice lie-down and a coffee somewhere, when we arrived at the brunch place.
Everybody was already there, waiting for us and drooling on the menu.
Muffin was quite surprised, and a little bewildered. So was Aunt Patricia, and I could see by her pale face and trembling hands clutching her phone that she was panic-stricken and was feverishly checking whether she had forgotten Muffin’s birthday, which, I am rather ashamed to admit, somewhat repaid me for her greeting (Still Single!! You’re single too, Auntie Pattie!). Sure, I could have put the poor old ewe out of her misery with an easy word of explanation (Prince Charming, really) but I somehow didn’t get to it (not getting any younger!!!?).
“What is it? asked Muffin. Why are you all here? Blue, why the surprise? It’s not my birthday!”
As the Aunt Patricia was letting out an audible sigh of relief, Charles got slowly up and ominously cleared his throat.
We all fell respectfully silent.
“Dear Muffin. The presence of we who are assembled here today is but a simple token of friendship and camaraderie. Indeed, it is a rare sight in those troubled times….”
Here, he showed signs of inflating and getting off-track, so I slightly coughed and made a silly face.
“…in those troubled times – Blue, if you are going to have a stroke, I’d appreciate it if you’d do it silently – a sight, was I saying, to warm your heart. And this very heart, not only do we want it to warm, we also want it to beat at a reasonable, healthy rate, and to keep on beating for eons and eons – no Maurice, I’m quite sure your heart is beating right now, shut up, will you – eons and eons, was I saying, as it is that much time we want to spend in your company – because what you are clutching right now is your stomach Maurice, your stomach is NOT supposed to beat – therefore it is a sacred duty for us to help you to follow the Doctor’s instructions and – can someone please help Patricia to disentangle her bracelet from her earing, I don’t know how you expect me to go on in this din – and… you know what Maurice, if you go on you’ll feel a beating somewhere I guarantee you – and in short we are here to support you Muffin!”
Beautiful, rousing speech! There was some applause, some sniffling, and a lot of confusion. Aunt Patricia was bleating how happy she was that Muffin had friends like that, Muffin was crying that she didn’t deserve us, Jimmy was still asking for pancakes, Maurice was suddenly feeling his heart beating, and the Tyrex was asking when we were going to order.
Once we had all settled down and the food was ordered, each of us said our piece in turn. Some said how strong she was, others said how amazing she was with Jimmy. Maurice talked a lot about health issues and we had to stop him because the food was coming and nobody wants to eat when Maurice is talking about his body.
I said:
“I was wrong to try to impose you the Care Bear Studio, it’s your own path, you should try and find something you like by yourself. Just know that whatever class you want to try, if you want someone to try it with you, you just have to ask, and for you, I will try anything that doesn’t involve drowning. This is a very solemn promise I make to you.”
And yes, dear Reader, of course I lived to regret that solemn promise.