Page 48 of Babies at Coconuts

Chapter 34

Cheri’s heart hammered at the thought of seeing her friends, having cocktails at Coconuts, and staying in her late grandmother’s, now her, home in Branson.

After a flawless event for Elton John who gave her a huge bonus and booked her for next year, Cheri proofed an exhaustive email to her staff at Fifth Avenue Catering. She outlined over a month’s worth of celebrity events and menus, so she could enjoy her time in Missouri. Stretching, she shut off her computer.

As owner of Fifth Avenue Catering, she had worked hard to build her business and garner new clients such as Radio City Music Hall and a variety of Broadway and off-Broadway afterglow parties. A wildly successful romance author had hired Fifth Avenue Catering to provide champagne, wine, caviar, chocolate-dipped strawberries, cupcakes featuring edible mini-book covers, and expensive cheeses to celebrate her twenty-fifth book signing.

Several celebrities had retained her company’s catering services for kids’ graduations, anniversaries, and surprise parties for film crews after movie production ended. Cheri always showed up at those events because even though she was a celebrity chef she was still star struck by major movie stars. Happily, her client list had grown fast.

Unloading her dishwasher, Cheri chuckled to herself. Much to her mother’s dismay, she had told her maid-slash-nanny, Pearl, to take a paid leave of absence—at least until her parents returned from Europe. At first, Pearl had been taken aback and said she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. But after Cheri surprised Pearl and her daughters with an all-expense paid trip to Disney World, her maid happily and tearfully accepted.

Cheri grinned as she remembered the conversation with her mother, Victoria Van Buren, whose voice had risen two notches when she told her about sending Pearl and her family on an extended vacation. After a spirited discussion, Cheri had informed her mom she was capable of loading her own damn dishwasher. My friends do it. So can I. I even know how to run a vacuum. Horrors.

After she put the last glass away, her mind raced. I know many people want to be like me but they don’t realize I’d rather be like them.My jet-setting mother will never understand. She doesn’t crave normalcy like I do. Saying aloud to the walls, Cheri said, “I can’t wait to see my new girlfriends and drink Angry Balls. What’s wrong with me? I’m talking to myself—out loud. I must be lonelier than I thought.”

Crossing her mostly white, modern penthouse apartment, Cheri peered out the window. She could see millions of twinkling lights on a multitude of Manhattan skyscrapers. Tourists lined the streets and horns blared non-stop. I love this city.

Escaping into her gigantic closet, Cheri rolled up her sleeves as she prepared to pack. Plucking massive amounts of casual and dressy clothes off hangers, she laid them neatly on the bed. Choosing skirts, jeans, shorts, yoga pants, tops, dresses, sweaters, and light jackets, she turned her attention to shoes and boots, placing rows of flats, heels, sneakers, and boots beside the bed. Satisfied she had enough attire to clothe a female army, Cheri opened her jewelry armoire.

Reaching for a string of pearls, gold and silver statement necklaces, turquoise and coral necklaces, gemstones, and several chunky bracelets, Cheri added her favorite elongated animal print necklace, a black turtleneck, dark jeans, and leopard print pumps for the next day’s flight. She breathed a sigh of relief. Done.

Curious about the wedding, Cheri tossed and turned in bed. She checked the clock. It’s an hour earlier in Crystal City. I’m going to call Suzy.

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