Charmingly Unannounced (July 21, 2011)

We agreed to meet with Jane again later in the week where we could learn what our options, few as they might be, were. Ardie poured stiff drinks and immediately began to predict the worst. From being “on top of it all” we were going “to get screwed again” and he’d never get back what he had already spent on 12B. All seemed lost.

Ardie got himself another strong one—I was still sipping my first—while bemoaning the possible fates that awaited him. “I’ll be decorating when I am 80, hawking my wares like a hooker downtown!” he predicted. Gone were the visions of ease and comfort, all thanks to “those bastards in that damned condo!” and “some corrupt judge, I’ll bet my life on it!” who had ruined his dreams for the future. 


Now he would never realize of his dream of retiring and “living a simpler, quieter life” (away from the interior decorating rat race, whispered Jane, picking up her bag to leave) and “taking it easy.” Jane’s departing glance to Ardie included the advice to remember that while we owed money, we did own the building, albeit with Miss Cousins as the majority shareholder. She would have an update for us by the end of the week.

Ardie had another drink before he left to join the Grades for supper, a rare occurrence at this time of the year as it was customary for Ted and Beebe to be travelling now. The demands of Ted’s business, sadly, served to keep them home this year. Beebe was “picking up some slack” and having various members of the family over now and then.

Suppers were augmented by Sunday brunches with lunches at the club and mid-week dinners and specific restaurant destinations and Chinese food all mixed in for good measure. Margery was a frequent guest now that she was back in the city proper, and Beebe was keeping an eye on her just in case she continued to “act up!” and “make a fool of herself” again.

Jack had lately been in the habit of stopping in—charmingly unannounced—to “have a home-cooked meal” with his parents during the week. It was a fun fiction that both Ted and Beebe rather enjoyed. They loved Jack, who was fun and full of life, and adored spending time with their handsome, charming son. Everyone did.

This cosy filial attention had been noticeably absent of late, and Ted and Beebe were happily surprised when he showed up—a welcome gate crasher—the same evening Ardie, Margery and Clemmy were dining in. Tom Standish, a VP at The Canadian Record, was the sixth guest. Tom had been included at the suggestion of Ted, who liked Tom and invited him home partly to see if there would be any interest with Clemmy.

Jack’s arrival did not upset the evening, and he was warmly welcomed. There was no question of their not being enough food; Beebe administered a household and the roast would feed the family, staff, guests and any misfits or drop-ins who might happen by.

The household, to borrow a quaint term, included Ted and Beebe, of course, plus Roy and Rose Davey, the quiet married couple who lived above the garage and who were part of the family. Rose was the housekeeper and cook while Roy—who had once worked on the printing presses for the Canadian Record—was cast as a grounds man, sometimes a houseman and often a handy-man and not infrequently a jack-of-all- trades.

Once a week a cleaning lady arrived to help Rose with the heavy cleaning and twice a week landscapers arrived to attend to the yards, trees, gardens, pool and other outdoor duties, overseen by Roy.

All of these people would be fed. Sandwiches would be offered, cold drinks dispensed, and coffee offered twice daily to visiting workers of any sort. The Daveys ate separately, of course, in their apartment where Beebe explained “they could enjoy their privacy” after serving and tidying up when the Grades ate at home.

Rose was an excellent cook, a reasonable baker for cakes and desserts, and kept their very large Rosedale mansion humming. They were discreet and had “been with” the family for many years, always included at family celebrations. Ardie suggested that Rose had been a “doting type” with the Grade children when they were young, hinting that she played a significant role in bringing them up.

On this particular night Rose had taken the trouble to prepare a magnificent standing-rib roast. It was—as was her custom—roasted to perfection and served with traditional accompaniments; Rose had grown up in Scotland, and preferred the homey, comforting palate of her youth to the tastes of today.

Jack joined the group as they were having drinks in the Grades’ large and comfortable library, where they usually entertained family and close friends. Fond hellos and gracious welcomes. Ardie noticed that Tom Standish was foundering a bit with Clemmy so he hollered a hello to Jack and steered him over toward Tom, who was either out of his league with Clemmy or uncertain how to behave around the boss’ daughter.

Jack was gregarious, fond of his sister, and falling in love with Leesa Mitzvah and happy to help old Tom out with wingman support. Clemmy tended to be quiet, after all, and wasn’t the easiest person when it came to small talk.

Ardie cornered Ted and began to tell him the news about The Campanile when Roy lowered the lights in the centre hallway, a signal contrived to let Mrs. Grade know she should begin urging her guests into supper.

The group was just sitting down when Roy leaned over and told Jack he was wanted on the telephone. He was briefly gone before returning and—kissing his mother and Aunt Margery and suggesting a game of squash at the club to Tom Standish—announcing he had to leave immediately; Leesa’s car wouldn’t start and it was dark outside and she couldn’t reach her parents on the telephone. Her brother was out of town.

Rose made her own horseradish sauce, and the roast was just-right pink and served with too many delicious accompaniments. The tastefully decorated and beautifully appointed room—tricked-up by Ardie—had eight French windows that overlooked a terrace leading to a well-manicured lawn and colourful garden. There was a good portrait of Beebe’s parents above the sideboard, and the breakfront displayed Great-Grandmother Grade’s sterling silver tea set. Even the guests were unique; a publisher, his formidable wife, two family members and a rising executive.

It was from this enchanting place, with its charming people and comfortable abundance, that Jack Grade bolted because Leesa Mitzvah told him that she was frightened and she didn’t have anyone else to turn to.