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Midnight Downloads
by Wendy-J
Wendy-J@KimEM.net
© 1999-2004 Wendy-J All Rights Reserved.
Unauthorized distribution or archival prohibited.
Part-8
Saturday Evening September 5thPreparing dinner was a snap. All Tina had to do was thaw the sauce in the microwave and boil water for the ravioli. Dessert was just a matter of washing, hulling and slicing strawberries, sprinkling them with sugar, and making quick biscuits with "Bisquick." It took her all of fifteen minutes to prepare the strawberries and another twenty for the biscuits. After she popped the sauce in the microwave to thaw, she went up to her mother's room to redo her face and to get help on selecting an outfit.
Tina was sitting at the vanity putting the finishing touches on her face as her mother looked on from the bed.
"Mom?" Tina asked as she blotted her lipstick.
"Yes, Honey."
"What do you think I should wear?" Tina asked. "I want to look nice, but I don't think I want to get too carried away, either."
"You're thinking along the right lines, Sweetie, I'm proud of you," Jan said. "Why don't you try the 'Young Republican' look?"
"The who?"
"You know, little Miss New England," came the smirking reply. "Put on a silk oxford blouse, a crew necked sweater, and a jeans skirt. I think a nice, tan or taupe, low heeled pump would finish it off rather well."
"Okay." Tina paused, and then, in a quiet voice, asked, "Mom?"
"Yes?"
"What's a pump?"
The look of exasperation on Jan's face was priceless. Tina couldn't hold a straight face any longer. She burst out laughing.
"Why you little minx!" Jan laughed, throwing a pillow at Tina. "Go get dressed before I turn you over my knee!"
Tina broke into her best Maimie impersonation as she edged towards the door, "Please don' beat dees tard ole bones, Massa! I's a goin! I's a goin!" Tina, giggling wildly, scampered for the door. Just as she made the turn out of the bedroom and into the hall, another pillow flew by, narrowly missing her head. She shrieked with glee as she ran laughing down the hall.
"Oh no, I think I've created a monster," Jan groaned happily.
**********************
When Tina finished dressing for dinner she presented herself to her mother for inspection.
"How do I look, Mom?"
"You look fine, Honey. Come here and sit down," Jan said.
Tina walked over to the bed and sat beside her mother.
"I was thinking about that little Maimie impersonation you do." Jan Continued. "I know it's funny to us, but it's not always funny to everyone else. Back when Maimie made her living doing those skits and routines for the movies, it was the only way she could make a living. They wouldn't hire African American people unless they were willing to behave in that manner on camera. It was another way of reinforcing the stereotypes society wanted to impose and keeping the people of African descent under their thumbs. It's not proper and I don't want to hear you doing it again. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be putting anyone down, I just..."
"I know, Honey, but, put yourself in Maimie's shoes for a second. How would you feel if someone pointed at you and impersonated you? Suppose they flounced around limp-wristed and spoke with an exaggerated lisp?"
Tina stared at her mother as the words sank in. Her lower lip began to quiver ever so slightly and her eyes began to shine with the tears welling within them.
"Oh, Mom," Tina moaned in a quiet whisper, "that's not how you see me, is it?"
Janice smiled warmly at her new daughter. "Of course not, Tina. You are the very picture of a beautiful, vibrant young woman. But do you see just how little it can take to hurt someone? You want everyone to accept the new you, don't you? Then, you need to start by treating everyone with respect at all times. If you do that, they'll treat you the same way, more often than not. You have to be careful and watch other people's feelings. I'm just as guilty as you are for laughing at you and that silly routine of yours. You can't just say anything you like, okay?"
"Okay. I promise to be more careful about what I say and do, all the time."
"All right, let's get cracking. You have a dinner to prepare!"
With that, the two of them went into the kitchen to finish readying dinner.
**********************
Eight o'clock found Tina in an apron, putting the finishing touches on the salad and sour cream dressing. Jan supervised her preparations from the antique table.
"Remember, Tina, think in waltz time when you're serving. Dip two three, pour two three and when you're walking, it's glide two three. Think you can handle that?" Jan asked.
Tina nodded as she finished the salad.
"Okay, Sweetie," Jan continued. "Put those in the fridge. As soon as Linda gets here you can put the ravioli in the water."
When chimes of Westminster announced their guest, Jan started to get up to answer the door.
"Are you trying to lose the bet already?" Tina asked.
Jan looked at Tina in askance.
"I'm supposed to play hostess tonight, not you, remember? I'll get the door." Removing her apron and placing it on the counter, Tina walked to the front door.
As she was opening the door, a gaily-wrapped bottle was thrust inside, causing Tina to pause and take stock of the situation. A lilting, feminine voice could be heard.
"I come bearing gifts!"
Taking the proffered bottle from the hand, Tina opened the door the rest of the way in a rush and greeted her mother's long-time friend and quasi-family member.
"Linda! Hi! Come on in," Tina said enthusiastically as she embraced her guest in a gentle, one armed hug and kissed the air by her ear. "Did you get your hair done today, too? It looks great! Here, let me take your sweater."
Shocked as much by the effusive greeting as by Tina's appearance, Linda just stood and gaped.
"What, aren't you going to stay?" Tina chided.
The shock ebbing, Linda came to life. "Er… Tina?!? Damn! You look great! I love what Claire did with your hair!"
"Do you really like it?" Tina asked as she unconsciously raised a hand to her hair. "She wants me back in a week to do some highlights. You like?" she asked, turning in a graceful pirouette.
Linda just beamed a blinding smile at the girl and nodded enthusiastically.
"Now," Tina continued, "are you going to give me your sweater, or are you conceding the bet and going home?"
"You little stinker! No, I am not conceding the bet, Miss Grace, I'm going to get that Ansel Adams your mother cheated me out of at that auction if it kills me."
"I hear Swan's Mortuary is running a special; did you buy your plot already?" Tina joked.
Jan, hearing the ruckus in the foyer, came out to investigate. "Hi, Linda; oh! I love your hair. Come on into the kitchen.
"Tina, is that wine?"
"Yes it is." Linda replied. "It's a very nice vintage cabernet, thankyouverymuch!"
Jan reached for the bottle while Linda continued to speak.
"I got a case at Apple Jack's last week.
"What's for dinner? I'm famished."
"We're having ravioli for an entrée," Jan said, "and strawberry shortcake for dessert."
"Hey! Just wait a minute!" Linda exclaimed. "You just lost. The deal was, Tina makes dinner, or have you already conveniently forgotten that little part of the bargain?"
"But she did," countered Jan with a Cheshire cat smile. "She made the sauce last week. And, as soon as she hangs up your sweater," she said looking at Tina, urging her on with her gaze, "she's going to put the ravioli in."
"That's not fair!" Linda started to complain as she started into the kitchen behind Jan.
"What do you mean, 'not fair'? You said she had to make it and she did. You never said when she had to make it."
"That stinks," Linda pouted. "You know what I meant."
"No, I know what you said. What you said was, and I quote: 'All right, Tina acts as hostess, makes dinner, and serves.' End quote."
"Realtor!" accused Linda.
"Bean counter!" came the retort.
"All right, she made dinner," the petite blonde reluctantly conceded as she walked into the kitchen.
"As you can see," Jan said, "I still have a kitchen." She continued through to the dining room. The eight-foot oak table had been set for a formal dinner of three. The fine bone china had been set out and two pieces of crystal stemware were at each place setting.
Tina entered the room and went to the foot of the table.
"Linda, if you would be so kind as to take your place," she said, as she pulled out the heavy end chair, "I can begin."
"I concede that you're up on your Emily Post, "Linda said, "Could we be a bit less formal?"
"Of course," Tina said with relief. "What would you like to change?"
"Let's say we gather at one end of the table or the other." Linda smiled. "I'd really hate to have to yell across the room to try and be heard," she giggled. "Besides, I don't think my knowledge of formal dining is as up to snuff as yours. What did you do, surf the web to find all this?"
"I'll never tell," came the retort, as she put the chair back under the table. Tina started to move the place setting to the right of the head of the table.
Pulling the chair out for her guest, Tina motioned her over. "I could get used to this," Linda said.
Tina disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a tureen of minestrone soup. Serving from the right, Tina smoothly ladled the soup into the bowls before her mother and her guest. Tina then served herself and, after placing the tureen on the sideboard, took her seat. She slid the ring from her napkin, and, placing the ring to one side, Tina carefully unfolded the cloth and daintily placed it in her lap. The picture of grace under pressure, Tina was a perfect lady.
Her manners with the soup were impeccable. Always dipping the spoon into the soup in a smooth studied motion away from her body and sipping the soup from the spoon with nary a slurp. Posture formally correct, Tina never once leaned over her plate, rested an arm or elbow on the table and, unbelievably, never once did a single drop of soup drip in her lap or on the tablecloth. All actions gracefully carried out, while holding up her end of the pleasant table chatter.
After the soup was finished, removing from the left, Tina cleared the table. She returned with a serving tray containing a covered serving bowl of ravioli and meatballs, a serving dish of Locatelli grated cheese, and another tureen with more sauce and meat. Placing the tray on the sideboard, again she served the food flawlessly.
It looked as if Tina was going to walk away with the bet when disaster struck midway through the entrée. The idle banter at the table put Tina at ease. So much so, that she forgot, just for the briefest of moments, that she was a young lady on a mission. Instead of breaking the ravioli in half with her fork as she had been doing, she speared one whole. There she was, fork neatly spearing the ravioli dead centre when, on its way over the edge of the bowl, it grazed the rim. The pasta shell started to rip where the tines had speared the morsel. As it cleared the table and was gracefully approaching Tina's waiting mouth, it happened.
The torn pasta, though aldente, wasn't strong enough to bear the weight of the sauce coating it and the cheese within, it fell... Tina watched it drop in, what to her was, slow motion. There it was... in mid flight... turning slowly... end... over end. She could see the red sauce glaring angrily as the broken ravioli rotated in the air, dropping squarely... onto the napkin... in the centre of Tina's lap... with a soft... wet... 'plop!' The bite would have been a bit large, but concealable, were it not for her dropping it into her lap. She blanched. It looked like the faux pas was missed! No-one said or did anything to acknowledge the event.
From there, dinner progressed smoothly and quickly, but Tina wanted to cry. "I lost the bet, I just know it. I can't do anything right. I lost the bet for Mom. Oh, gods above, why do these things always happen to me?" she lamented silently.
It wasn't until after Tina cleared up the dinner plates, served, and cleared, the salad, and dessert was before them that Linda brought the subject of the bet out into the open.
"Okay, the trial by fire is over," she said with a smile. "Tina, you were unbelievable. I thought I was going to wear the soup or the sauce for sure. Then, when you ladled the strawberries over the cakes without slopping it up, well… I've got to hand it to you, Kiddo; you've made quite the improvement over your usual boorish manners and lack of grace. But... there is the matter of that ravioli in your lap during the entrée."
"Now, just wait a minute, Linda..." Jan began in defence of her child.
"Oh, relax, Jan, she's won, but not unconditionally."
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Jan asked suspiciously.
"Well, if her performance had been flawless and she hadn't slipped once, there would be no strings. As it stands, we have a draw. No winner, no loser. But if she's willing to do a little computer work for a friend of mine, I'll make good on my end of the bargain. I'll even up my end of the stakes. That means Tina will get anything, furniture, clothes, makeup, dancing lessons, anything a girl of eighteen and nineteen could possibly want or need is hers for the period of one year, including all doctor bills. I'll foot the bills for all of it, just as we agreed."
"What kind of computer work?" Tina asked carefully.
Having known Linda her entire life, Tina knew that behind that bubble-headed, blonde-bimbette look was one of the sharpest, most conniving minds in the world. Linda might be blond, ditzy looking and a buxom little babe, but she was sharp. Her next statement was delivered in this sharp businesslike tone.
"She needs an ultra secure LAN, WAN and mobile system set-up, with the hottest servers you can build," Linda started. "The whole thing will need to be fully integrated with complete audio, video, microwave and cellular communications built into it. Can you handle something like that?"
"Yes… and no," Tina replied cagily.
Janice stifled a giggle. She loved watching Tina take Linda on. It was almost as if they were siblings with the way they bantered, parrying innuendo and diatribe.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Linda took to the offensive. "Either you can do it, or you can't."
All business now, Tina's demeanour did a complete one eighty. She was as cold and calculating as they come.
"The type of system you're asking for is not your run of the mill business set-up. It can cost more than thousands of dollars; it can conceivably run into the millions. You make it sound like a little office set-up. It's not. The system, to be as functional as you say, needs to become part of the backbone. In other words, its own ISP. At the heart of it all needs to be a small supercomputer. A mini Cray would be best. Assuming, whoever your friend is, is rich, they'll be close to poor when I'm done spending their money."
"I didn't ask you what it was going to cost, I asked you if you could do it. Can you?"
"Yes… and no."
"Damnit Tina!" Linda exclaimed.
She was so exasperated she wanted to throttle the girl. Jan didn't make it any easier by giggling out loud.
"If I design, install and maintain it, my suggestions are followed to the letter and I'm given 'carte blanche,' yes. I can do it. And you're going to owe me a lot more than a year's worth of clothes, furniture, and accessories. But yes, I can do it."
"Will you do it?"
"Mom?"
"Honey, you're sure you can handle that?" asked Jan.
"Sure, Mom," Tina said. "It's more complex than Linda made it sound, but I can do it. It's just that it takes a good bit of time to do and I don't think it fair that all I get out of it are some clothes, furniture, accessories and doctor visits. Besides, what about school? I'm taking classes at the University this semester and I have my course load at Central. Add this to it and I'll be tied up for thirty-six hours a day for the next year! I won't have time to sleep or anything!"
"Linda, she's right, you know," Jan stated. "What you're asking is an awful lot."
Linda set her jaw; you could see the wheels spinning in her brain.
Then, out of the blue, Tina said, "Here's how it works. I continue with my classes at school and the university. In my spare time, I'll give you at least ten hours a week, but no more than 20 hours a week. That way I have some time for myself. For the time I give you, I charge you fifty dollars an hour. You arrange it as a salary, and you pay the taxes. I get what ever I ask for in terms of clothes, accessories and everything else, just like you agreed, no questions asked.
"I go to your friend's place, get the complete rundown on what she has, wants and needs. I don't mean just on paper, I want to see what she has. She holds nothing back. She answers all questions and I mean all, not just the convenient ones. And she does so completely and honestly. I present her with a list of things I say she needs and she buys them. No quibbling on price or brand. I set it up, I configure it and I maintain it. I'll train her and her people to run it. After the year is up, my rates go to one hundred fifty dollars an hour. And if I feel it conflicts with my sense of honesty or propriety, I don't do it and you still foot the bill for everything I want."
"Now just a…hold on there!" Linda started, her face turning red.
"Those are the terms, take 'em or leave 'em. You don't like it, we're even," Tina said with finality.
Janice couldn't help herself she burst out laughing. Linda, the unstoppable, manipulating wizard of all time had just been bested… and by a teenager.
"I think she has you there, Linda. Those sound like the best terms you can hope for," Jan managed between giggles.
Linda, succumbing to the inevitable, laughed as well.
"You know… it's highway robbery, but we have a deal," she said in resignation and reached into her purse. She pulled out an envelope and, stretching across the table, handed it to Tina.
"This is for you," she said.
Tina reached out and took the envelope. Her nails seemed to make it impossible for her to grasp it properly to tear the edge off it the way she normally would.
Linda giggled and said, "I see no-one warned her about Claire."
"Oh, I guess they aren't too bad," Tina said, her face a delicate shade of rose. "They just take a bit of getting used to."
It took a few seconds, but Tina discovered a very good use for her new 'talons.' Sliding the tip of a nail into the top edge of the flap, she slit the envelope open, using her nail as a letter opener. Reaching inside, she pulled out a silver American Express credit card with her name on it, a temporary student ID for the university and a brochure for 'Cliffside Academy,' a rather exclusive private school, a driver's license and birth certificate.
"Use the credit card in good health. You are now a signer on my American Express Platinum account. But I get to see what you buy! I want to be there the first time you use it, okay? Try not to get into trouble using the license, it'll work for ID, but it's just a fake. Remember that. I know a doctor at the hospital. She gave me the fake birth certificate. You can always use that to get another license."
Tina nodded silently, staring at the contents of the envelope. She spread them out on the table beside her plate.
Continuing, Linda said, "A friend of mine works in admissions. She gave me the ID card for you. She said that you'd have to go back down there and have your picture taken for the regular student ID. And, I figured that if Tina was going to be around for at least a year, you might not want to go back to Central. You started classes there when? Wednesday the second? Cliffside's fall semester begins next Wednesday, September ninth. That should give you the opportunity to start the year over as Tina. How's that sound?"
Tina looked at her mother in askance.
Jan replied to the question for her daughter. "Well, it is a bit sudden, but it does sound like the ideal thing to do, given the current circumstances. But isn't Cliffside a bit pricey?"
"They might be a bit on the expensive side," Linda answered, "but I think they'll challenge Tina a bit more academically."
"Tina? Does that sound all right with you?" her mother asked. "It means you won't finish high school at Central with your friends." She sounded genuinely concerned.
"The only friend I have at Central, 'or anywhere for that matter,'" she added silently "is Samantha. And the guys at school make it hard for me to see her there anyway, so… Yeah, sure, I guess so," she sounded a bit lifeless.
"What's the matter, Honey?" Janice asked.
"Wuh…well, it just seems..."
"Do you want to stay at Central?"
"No! I mean, I get teased bad enough as it is, but, it's all happening so fffffast." She seemed genuinely confused.
"Honey," Linda said, "sometimes finding out who you really are is a hard and scary process. I don't want you to think that this is something you have to do now. But it should be something you think very hard about, before doing it, and especially hard about, before not doing it. If this is who you really are, you should find out what it's like now, before you're all alone with no-one to help you.
"You know I can be a manipulative bitch, but this is one time when I can honestly say I want what's best for you and not what's in it for me. Not because it will cost me less if you decide not to, but because I really, truly want you to be happy with who you are and who you will become.
"This is an experiment. Yes, it seems like it's going awfully fast. That's my fault; but, at the same time, wouldn't it be nice if you had some fond memories of high school, too? If we hurry, you can start the school year as Tina. You'll have a chance to meet new people and make new friends. You might even have a great time doing it! But you'll never have the chance to do it as Ernie. It'll just be another year of the same old thing as Ernie.
"What do you say? Want to give it a try?" Linda finished quietly.
"Can I back out any time I want?"
"Well, it might be a bit difficult for school," Linda said hesitating, "but sure, anytime you want; as long as you keep your end of the bargain with the computer work."
"And it won't cost my Mom anything if I do?"
"Your Mom and I are even," Linda replied. "Even if you back out before the year is up. But you have to promise me one more thing, well... two more."
"What?" Tina looked about ready to cry again.
"One, that you give it your very best shot to try and stick it out for the full year; and two, that you don't cry because you look so pretty and it's my turn to cry," Linda said as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"I promise on one and I'll try on two," Tina said as she jumped up from her chair and ran to Linda to give her a hug. "I promise I'll try, Linda, I promise."
**********************
Continued in Part-9
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