Fed Up - By Jessica Conant-Park & Susan Conant Page 0,47
to her.”
Hmm. An avid gardener who might grow more than just herbs? “Does either of you garden?”
Nelson shook his head. “Nah. I don’t care about flowers and all that. I’ve got a small apartment with no yard, anyhow.”
“Same here,” Robin said. “I’ve got a black thumb when it comes to flowers. Not that my apartment has a yard or a balcony, even, but I can’t keep so much as a houseplant alive. I forget to water them. Marlee!” Robin stood up and smiled as Marlee made her way through the dining room.
The female chef looked even pastier than the last time I’d seen her, and her soiled white chef’s coat did nothing to flatter her stocky figure. “I heard you were out here, Robin.” Marlee tucked her short hair behind her ears, a move that only exaggerated her round face. I caught sight of her dirty fingernails and desperately prayed that she was cooking with gloves on. “I’m so glad to see you. Hi, Nelson. Hi, Chloe. I have to get back in the kitchen, but I wanted to say hello and let you know that I’ll send food out for you, so don’t bother with the menus, okay? I’ll pop out again if I can.” Marlee smiled curtly and waved.
Robin reached under the table and pulled a yellow note-pad from her bag. “Now, I want to talk about the process of obtaining permission to solemnize a marriage. This is going to be a great piece. We’re not filming today, because I want to run the story by the station first, but they’re just going to love it.”
Phew! So I’d continue to be spared Nelson’s camera. I went over the simple process of solemnization with Robin, while Nelson munched on a green bread stick that, according to Robin, was flavored with pureed fresh thyme.
“Adrianna is really excited at the idea of having her wedding filmed,” I said. “If it weren’t for you, the only footage she’d have would be from a home video camera, and the result would be shaky images and bad lighting. With the baby coming so soon and the shower this weekend, this is one less thing she needs to worry about.”
Robin’s eyes lit up as I talked. “So, wait! Adrianna is giving birth soon after the wedding?” She looked at Nelson.
“Cool. Now I’m really interested in filming the wedding. Maybe she’ll go into labor! Talk about good film.” Nelson’s eyes brightened, probably in the hope that Adrianna’s water would break in the middle of her vows.
“Well, we must film the shower then, too! What an exciting time for your friends, Chloe. And maybe I can use some of the footage of the shower in the piece on solemnization. This will be wonderful!”
“Sure. I guess that would be okay with Adrianna.” I made a mental note to add two more people to the guest list for Saturday. “And Adrianna will still have a few weeks before she’s due. So,” I said lightly as I eyed Nelson, “let’s plan on filming the shower and the wedding and not the delivery on the same day.” As if Nelson’s hopes could induce labor! Still, I had the superstitious sense that his greed for dramatic events to film could jinx Adrianna.
Robin’s cell phone rang shrilly. When she pulled it out of her purse, its color—metallic hot pink—should have told me that she had no desire to use it unobtrusively. Foolishly, I expected her to turn it off. Instead, she not only answered but spoke loudly. “Hello? What? I can’t hear you. Speak up. This isn’t really a good time. Not now.” Although the people at the next table glared at her, Robin kept talking. Meanwhile, Nelson and I sat in uncomfortable silence, unable to converse even if we’d wanted to over Robin’s noisy phone call. She finally snapped her phone shut.
Food began to arrive. Mindful of the Mayor’s Food Court, I looked nervously at my plate as I inspected its contents for signs of improper storage or rat poop. Finding nothing noticeably wrong, I picked up my fork and stared in disbelief: the fork had only two tines. I looked at Robin and Nelson, and then glanced around at other customers who were eating. Was I the only one who found it completely bizarre that we were expected to use this prong? Evidently so. Reconciling myself to impaling my food or possibly balancing it, I turned to a dish that Marlee had sent out, a shrimp tower of sorts that initially