Are you ready for your massage 😉
It’s the night before Christmas eve here in Huckleberry Close, and I have had the most extraordinary text message from Bernard. As you may know, Bernard’s health has not been good recently. Between being tazered and shot in the chest with a carrot, he’s had quite a year.
With this in mind he traveled to England for Christmas, where he has some family, and checked himself into a rather eccentric sounding health farm near something called ‘Newmarket’. He’s being treated at “The Devil’s Dyke Centre for Alternative Health.” This immediately had me thinking of a friend of mine who recently divorced her lesbian wife. As you might have guessed the divorce is not going well.
Bernard’s text read: “Hope all is well. Love to the crew. Just waiting for the nurse to give me my evening massage. 😉 “
Now, I don’t mean to be pedantic, but that smiley winkey face at the conclusion of the message did give me pause for thought. At the time Sylvester, Ali and I were enjoying a few glasses of eggnog while I modeled a new gown I recently treated myself to, and Ali showed us a traditional arab jalabiyyah. Needless to say, Sylvester wore his Carhartt pants, and frankly I think Ali and I looked considerably more presentable than our swarthy friend.
Amanda had joined us, ‘popping in’ as she does, not unlike a visit from the plague. We all sat around the log fire in my living room and enjoyed the winter evening.
Making conversation, Sylvester said, “I see Bernard’s started using emoji’s. I don’t think he’s quite got the hang of it yet.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said, showing them both the recent text. “I mean, really. What is one to make of that?”
The eggnog was fortified with substantial amounts of brandy, which neutralizes the sweetness a little, though does not reduce the calories, to Amanda’s disappointment. I’ve been making this recipe for years, and it was given to me by my grandmother.
Ali passed on the eggnog, but Amanda drank it deeply. I could tell she’d had more than is wise from her slightly slurred speech.
“Where on earth do you get this,” asked Amanda looking at her glass. “It’s so smooth!”
“Oh,” I replied modestly, “it’s just something I knocked up.”
“Rather like your first wife,” I heard her mutter under her breath.
Just then Sylvester got to his feet to refill his glass, nudged the table and Amanda’s glass toppled into her lap covering her with eggnog. She yelped like a… Well, like a startled pig, and got to her feet.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Sylvester gushed.
“Don’t worry, Amanda. I’ll find you something.” I said and trotted off upstairs to get her a skirt. Perhaps I could find a discarded garden tent upstairs. No, that’s a little unkind, I suppose. I looked among the clothes, and returned with something suitable.
I handed the skirt to Amanda and she disappeared to change, leaving us all enjoying the warmth of the fire.
I turned to find Sylvester texting Bernard. “Just covered Amanda’s pants with eggnog. 😊”
A text came back from Bernard a moment later – “Can’t chat, going in for colonic irrigation! 😉”
“Wow,” said Sylvester. “They really know how to have fun in England.”
With that Sylvester disappeared upstairs to the bathroom, leaving Ali and I to talk about how he and his family were enjoying their second Christmas in Canada. He told me how well his daughter had settled in at school, and how his wife had managed to find a good job in the bank. It wasn’t until ten minutes or so had passed that I realized both Sylvester and Amanda were still absent.
I glanced at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece.
“How very odd,” I said to Ali. “I wonder what could have happened to Sylvester?”
Ali turned his eyes toward the heavens, or one of the bedrooms upstairs, depending on your point of view. He had an ominous look on his face as our eyes met.
“Just how much brandy is in that stuff,” asked Ali.
“Enough.” I said. Sylvester is Italian.
I hope you are enjoying the run up to Christmas. We will be here through the holiday looking after all our friends and members. I’m thrilled to say we’ve been getting a lot of new members in to My Little Black Book. If by chance you are alone this Christmas it’s a great idea to get into My Little Black Book and message some of our other members. They’re all keen to hear from others and make new connections, and we all love to connect, however distant, at this time of year.