Lana spent the next morning shopping around town for gimcrack gifts to take to the Christmas Eve Christmas party at the Millers. This was a tradition with them that this party would happen at one home or another of their gang. The gang this year included the Roiters, the Millers and the Sibleys as well as the Andrews. In the early afternoon she brought her usual flair to the wrapping. She calligraphed little notes with her pens and her inks, and her little poems summed up the friendships and the year nearly vanished. Scott was out at the airstrip, working on orders and maintenance. He usually left her to deal with the holiday chores. Every now and then, he\u2019d surprise her and come up with some outlandish decorating idea, usually involving fireworks or electronics. One year, he\u2019d jimmied the head lolling white wire reindeer to periodically work in double time. Every time it happened while he was looking out the window, he\u2019d laugh like a child. She cherished such memories, as they dwindled and became fewer and farther between. He\u2019d become a business automaton of late, trying to break his personal records, and, as he put it, trying to \u2018make it, make a better life for themselves.\u2019<\/p>\n
When she got done with all of this, she read Julian\u2019s blog. She checked her email for a sign of him, but he was silent. She figured he needed composing time. His blog post proved that he\u2019d read her and responded. She smiled at the clever way he repositioned her as both predator and as prey. She\u2019d rarely been read so keenly, and been made to want to sharpen rather than mind her tongue. It was a delicious game, and addictive. Were it not for her fear of Scott, she\u2019d be playing it harder and faster. If she was not married, and there was no Scott period, she\u2019d be working at getting an invitation to Winchester. What school was it? Blue Ridge? Never heard of it. No matter. Never mind.<\/p>\n
It was late afternoon when he got home. He came in and trotted up the stairs. She heard him up there doing stuff. She went up after him. He was in the bedroom getting undressed to take a shower.
\n\t\u201cHey, Scott.\u201d
\n\t\u201cHey.\u201d
\n\t\u201cEverything\u2019s good in the hangar?\u201d
\n\t\u201cOh yeah. Just taking care of business. Say, we\u2019re going where tonight?\u201d
\n\t\u201cThe Miller\u2019s.\u201d
\n\t\u201cOK.\u201d
\n\t\u201cI got little gifts. Wrapped \u2018em.\u201d
\n\t\u201cGreat.\u201d
\n\t\u201cI\u2019m going to get dressed up.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYep. Me too.\u201d
\nShe regarded her husband\u2019s musculature. That was the attraction. He was buff. She wondered if she could seriously entertain the idea of making out with some fat old guy, no matter how entertaining or smart. Somehow, she had doubts. Scott stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. She went down the hall to the second bath and began getting cleaned up and dressed for the party.<\/p>\n
In the car, on the way to the Millers, they had little to say to each other. She sat in her seat in his car, looking out at West Virginia\u2019s woods and hoods in the dark. The control panel reflected in the window reminded her of night flights.
\n\t\u201cWhat are you thinking, Lana?\u201d
\n\t\u201cNothing much. I was thinking about night flights.\u201d
\n\t\u201cHa! That\u2019s funny! So was I!\u201d
\n\t\u201cWhere to?\u201d
\n\t\u201cOh, I don\u2019t know. I was thinking how it used to be so romantic and how now it\u2019s all business and getting to be more routine.\u201d
\n\t\u201cI can imagine. You\u2019ve been really working hard.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYeah. I have goals and plans.\u201d
\n\t\u201cDo you\u2026\u201d
\n\t\u201cDo I what?\u201d
\n\t\u201cHave plans for me?\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou?\u201d
\n\t\u201cI mean, do you expect me to be ambitious?\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou know me, Lana. I\u2019m from old southern stock. I\u2019m a traditionalist. I want to be the breadwinner. I want you to be my wife. I want you to be comfortable, to have all you need. It\u2019s very traditional.\u201d
\n\t\u201cSo if I wanted to make my own money, say by blogging, as Bruce suggested, would you object?\u201d
\nShe felt compelled to test these waters.
\n\t\u201cNot so long as you still got the housework done.\u201d
\n\t\u201cHmm.\u201d
\nShe increasingly found this kind of talk blatant.
\n\t\u201cBlog away. If it turns a profit, I\u2019ll be a monkey\u2019s uncle.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou never know.\u201d
\n\t\u201cNo you don\u2019t.\u201d
\nHe let a moment go by.
\n\t\u201cAre there any expenses?\u201d
\n\t\u201cNo. You get a site for free and you just put up content. Monetizing it, as they call it, is just a matter of using certain keywords in the texts, and allowing ads that support the content. So, if as Bruce says, your running recipes, shopping tips, or advice to the lovelorn, you\u2019d have ads for utensil dealers, specific merchants you write up, or, I don\u2019t know, condoms.\u201d
\nHer husband\u2019s chuckle was music to her ears. She should have taken this tack months ago.
\n\t\u201cIf it costs nothing to do it, then any money you earn is pure profit. What a great business!\u201d
\n\t\u201cYes. I could be. Lots of blogs fail to attract readers.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou\u2019ve got nothing to lose, Babe.\u201d
\nThey had now pulled in to the Miller\u2019s circular driveway. They recognized the other vehicles as that of their friends.
\n\t\u201cLooks like the Roiters and Sibleys beat us to the punch.\u201d
\n\t\u201cFunny, Scott.\u201d
\nHe had made a joke, but was oblivious. Grabbing the bottles and bag of gifts, they made for the door. It opened to reveal the beaming face of Jason Miller, Christine\u2019s husband, all decked out in a bespoke suit. His tie was like a candy cane. He was full of Christmas cheer.
\n\t\u201cLana! Scott! Get your asses in here and Merry Christmas!\u201d
\n\t\u201cHo Ho Ho! A Merry one to you too sir!\u201d
\nScott put out a hand and they shook on it. Jason gave her a peck on the cheek.
\n\t\u201cLet me take the coats.\u201d
\nA rustle and bustle, as they worked themselves in and took off boots, adding them to the pile by the door. At last erect and as tall as she ever got, Lana curtseyed in her finery. Out of her bag, she pulled a pair of fine high heels. The full effect at last achieved. From the same bag, she handed Scott his slippers with a wink. She was a class act.
\n\t\u201cOh my, Lana,\u201d said Jason. \u201cYou just get finer every year.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou\u2019re makin\u2019 a girl blush!\u201d
\nScott looked at the floor for this aspect of ritual. He never knew what to make of these remarks. He thought them some sort of vestigial bit of tribal hoo-ha. It could be done away with and he would be happier.<\/p>\n
They join the party, already in full swing. Greetings are called out. The small groups form with drinks in hand for chat. <\/p>\n
On the way to the party, Bruce warned his wife, Annie, not to mention the blog. She\u2019s been babbling about it for weeks, and is dying to meet the author of \u201cAmy Tells All,\u201d if only to gush and say to her \u201cright on sister.\u201d Bruce disabused her of this tempting conversational gambit, and recounted his visit to the Andrews\u2019 in which Lana begged him not to mention it to Scott. He recalled for her the moment when Lana herself broached the topic and how Bruce had cited the famous Pioneer Woman blog as an example of a very financially successful \u2018bloggerprise.\u2019 Anne expressed her profound dismay that this was Lana\u2019s situation and called Scott all sorts of nasty names.<\/p>\n
Well before the party, the topic of the Andrews\u2019 marriage was a gossip staple at the Roiters. Both Lisa and Ron know better than to talk about the blog in front of the controlling Scott.<\/p>\n
In their bedroom, while dressing for the party after spending the afternoon in their wicked hideous kinky, Christine reminds Jason that the topic of the blog is taboo. Christine remarks that \u201cAmy Tells All\u201d has topped the list of most popular personal blogs nationwide, with much made of the no comments and no monetization policy. \u201cDoesn\u2019t the woman realize that she\u2019s got a goldmine on her hands?\u201d Wailed one enthusiastic follower. No, Lana has no idea. She\u2019s too busy dancing her crazy dance, working her law firm gig, writing the famous blog, and trying to keep Scott from scolding her about some detail of housekeeping neglected. Jason remarks that Scott is a curious, old-fashioned man, for a man with such a dashing profession. He promises to keep off the topic of the blog.<\/p>\n
Nobody but Lana has any idea about the correspondence with Julian, or the encrypted meaning of the latest \u2018recipe\u2019 post. If they had, they would have thought it a recipe for disaster. The only person who did not realize that the blog was a taboo topic was Scott.<\/p>\n
So after a few drinks, when the company was called to table by the butler, the conversation veered after a breezy start into the insanity of intense irony.
\n\t\u201cHear hear!\u201d Shouted Jason, at the head of his table. \u201cWe gather together once again for our annual Christmas Eve celebration. Welcome one and all. Tonight we\u2019ll enjoy the best that Parkersburgers all over town wish they could partake of!\u201d
\nThere are shouts, laughter, and glasses are raised.
\n\t\u201cWe\u2019ve had a great year, Christine and I. We really feel like celebrating. We\u2019re a little fatter, a little wiser, and, I\u2019m happy to say, a hell of a lot richer.\u201d
\nMuch laughter, some of it tinged by jealousy because of the bald truth of the matter. Jason has literally earned his bragging rights. Lisa raises her glass and proposes the next toast.
\n\t\u201cI\u2019ve had a good year, too. Not so much financially, but certainly in the fun factor frontier. Me and Christine and Lana have been to every honkytonk in town and painted the town some color or other.\u201d
\n\t\u201cRed!\u201d Shouted Lana.
\n\t\u201cAgreed!\u201d Echoes Christine, to her husband\u2019s left, glass held aloft.
\n\t\u201cScott and I have also had a stellar year. We\u2019ve done better than I would have thought possible at this time last year.\u201d Bruce took a swig of his wine.
\n\t\u201cTrue, good buddy.\u201d Scott stared at the table in front of him trying to think of something notable to add. \u201cThe aircraft parts business has really uh, taken off, so to speak.\u201d
\nThis brought a few giggles forth from the well-lubricated gathering.
\n\t\u201cWhat about you, Anne?\u201d Jason wants to be sure that all of his guests have the right to express their accomplishments and aspirations.
\n\t\u201cOh, little me. I am not a lion of business, but a mere grade school teacher.\u201d
\n\t\u201cA very important cog in the wheel of culture,\u201d said Jason in his booming voice.
\n\t\u201cYes, well, my students had a very good year making bedroom planetariums and doing sight word hopscotch.\u201d
\n\t\u201cYe gads,\u201d squealed Lana. That sounds marvelous, but I have no idea what a sight word is.\u201d
\n\t\u201cOh \u2018sight words\u2019 are common words that show up constantly in books, but often don\u2019t follow regular spelling rules.\u201d
\n\t\u201cThere are spelling rules?\u201d
\n\t\u201cLana, you know there are. I\u2019m going to make you stand in the corner!\u201d
\n\t\u201cThe thrill of punishment. So name a few.\u201d
\n\t\u201c\u2018The, she, her, he, it, that, sit, etc\u2026\u2019\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou teach first grade!\u201d
\n\t\u201cRight!\u201d
\n\t\u201cHopscotch?\u201d
\n\t\u201cYou write the words out on the sidewalk in chalk and have the kids hop on them, read them and call them out. If they miss, they go back to the beginning. It can be a riot.\u201d
\n\t\u201cThat is so amazing! Thanks for sharing.\u201d
\nThere is a lull. Nobody, not even Jason Miller, was going to ask Lana what she\u2019d been doing. They all knew full well. It was the unmentionable topic. But Scott felt that his wife had been slighted in some way. He didn\u2019t know that she\u2019d done anything noteworthy, other than party with her friends, but he knew that she had developed a business plan.
\n\t\u201cWell\u2026\u201d
\n\t\u201cYes Scott?\u201d Asked Jason.
\n\t\u201cLana was telling me on the way over here that she\u2019s thinking of starting a blog.\u201d
\nLana\u2019s smile developed a slight tremor. The silence at the table was like the black hole from which no light could escape.
\n\t\u201cA blog,\u201d echoed Jason.
\n\t\u201cYou know, one of those websites where you post recipes and such. She thinks she can make money at it.\u201d
\nAlways lightning fast on his feet in social situations, Jason raised his glass.
\n\t\u201cHere\u2019s to Lana\u2019s blog!\u201d
\nCrisis averted.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Lana spent the next morning shopping around town for gimcrack gifts to take to the Christmas Eve Christmas party at the Millers. This was a tradition with them that this party would happen at one home or another of their gang. The gang this year included the Roiters, the Millers and the Sibleys as well as the Andrews. In the early afternoon she brought her usual flair to the wrapping. She calligraphed little notes with her pens and her inks, and her little poems summed up the friendships and the year nearly vanished. Scott was out at the airstrip, working on orders and maintenance. He usually left her to deal with the holiday chores. Every now and then, he\u2019d surprise her and come up with some outlandish decorating idea, usually involving fireworks or electronics. One year, he\u2019d jimmied the head lolling white wire reindeer to periodically work in double time. Every time it happened while he was looking out the window, he\u2019d laugh like a child. She cherished such memories, as they dwindled and became fewer and farther between. He\u2019d become a business automaton of late, trying to break his personal records, and, as he put it, trying to \u2018make…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-110","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-chapters","comments-off"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/110","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=110"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/110\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=110"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=110"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ken-beck.com\/bloggers\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=110"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}