Chapter Thirty-five

THE ANDERCHRONICLES

By Me, Ellee

[WARNING: The following story has been rated FNF*]
*Fiction NOT Fact

"A Little Bit of AnderRomance "

Part III

The Guests

T
he first moment I laid eyes on Robin, I knew something was . . . well . . . how can I put this? . . . different—a few inches just this side of normal. But as I did a full length scan, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. She appeared normal, and yet . . . there was something. Andy was happy enough to see her, however, and as he awarded the Anderkiss, his lips met not only her right hand, but her left one as well. She was the only guest to receive two kisses—the others could boast only one. And for the record—I couldn't boast of ANY! DANG! DANG!

For her evening gown, Robin had chosen an off-the-shoulders, fitted sweetheart bodice creation in a deep, cherry red silk fabric. The skirt was full and floor length, embellished with red on red embroideries of vines and leaves, and rustled when she moved. Around her throat she wore a black velvet choker accentuating her dark curly hair. Three-inch black patent leather sandal pumps completed the ensemble, and allowed her bare toes to peak through the straps in a flirty sort of way, as she was making her way to the dining hall on Andy’s arm. The Lady In Red, appropriately enough, was playing in the background during this time.

At that moment, Molly appeared out of nowhere, dressed to the max in her stunning Valentine’s Day outfit, featuring a huge red taffeta bow with little red hearts swinging from it. She looked magnificent, and from the way she carried herself—head held high, she knew it! Then, all at once, she broke with this highfalutin deportment and raced—no charged, over to Robin, and jumped up on her expensive gown and started barking at her. Andy was horrified and yelled,

"Molly! No girl! . . . DOWN GIRL!" He swatted at Molly, but Molly would NOT be dissuaded, and she continued to bark relentlessly.

Then, suddenly it became apparent why Robin didn’t look quite right. As I mentioned before, her dark hair was short and curly, but the hair on her right side wasn’t curly like the left side. Now granted, that could have been from a bad perm, BUT, not only was it straight, it was much thicker and fluffier than the other side—same color, however, but the whole hairdo looked lopsided. The right side was a big bouffant, while the left was just short curls hugging her head. And as she and Andy walked across the entry, I also noticed part of the bouffant hung down her back—like a tail.

As Molly continued yapping, and began insanely jumping up and down, trying to climb on Robin, it looked as if the right side of Robin’s hair was beginning to move, and then all at once it DID! It went flying through the air, and when it hit the floor, four legs materialized and the whole bouffant took off running across the room, with Molly in hot pursuit! Robin’s bouffant wasn’t a bouffant, at all—it was a cat!—a big bundle of funny-looking round Persian fluff that had been sleeping peacefully, tucked away under his master's hair and wrapped around her neck, until Molly showed up.

After Andy delivered Robin to the dining hall, he came back to welcome Xtina, the clerk from the department store. It was obvious she had chosen the most expensive gown in the Christian Dior showroom. It was a blue (of course) satin, strapless, floor-length gown, with tight fitting bodice and A-line skirt, which flowed out from the waist in vertical undulating waves. The lower third of this skirt was adorned with hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny seed pearls hand-stitched in intricate patterns of hearts and turtle doves. As she moved along, the hem kissed the floor in a swishing sound and gave her the appearance of floating, since her feet couldn’t be seen.

Her bare shoulders had been sprinkled with micro-fine body glitter, creating a halo around her as the tiny pieces of silver caught the light. Andy’s eyes were glittering in response, as he bent to bestow the Anderkiss, at which moment Xtina found herself struggling for air and was beginning to slip to the floor. Andy quickly lead her to a nearby chair and pushed her head between her legs for a few minutes to restore the blood, which had deserted her brain all too quickly at the moment he pressed his warm and moist lips to her feverish flesh.

When at last her head bobbed up, her face was flushed with a new supply of blood, and she looked a whole lot better, except for her hair, which by now resembled what might be described as, First Attempt, by some beauty school neophyte. I felt sorry for her, so I took her to my room and tried to restore the original design. When I was through, Xtina took one look in the mirror and started sobbing. I told her to snap out of it or her make-up job would be the next thing to go. I then gave her a few tissues and told her to rest a while before joining the others.

As I was returning to the front hall, I realized just how bad I looked in my old jeans, and tee shirt, which had the evidence of a day’s extremely hard work smudged all over it. My make-up had long since faded to nothing and my nose was shining like a full moon, while my hair, pulled back in a straggly pony tail, was in total disarray, uncombed for the entire day—I mean, there wasn’t time to primp, I had been working!! When I reached the entryway, I discovered Martell had just arrived, repaired nose ring and all, and was once again in Andy’s arms!!!!! I was so outraged, my jealousy immediately took over, reason fled, and I lashed out by yanking her out of Andy’s arms, saying—between clenched teeth,

"Martell . . . deeear . . . I’d be glaaaad to show you into the dining room."

And with that I hauled her off, doing double time, toward the party room, as she stumbled along trying to keep up with me in her 8-inch heels and that tight, extremely-tight-fitting body-glove-like frock she had stuffed herself into. "How do you ever manage to breathe in that thing?" I questioned along the way. But she didn’t answer—I don’t think there was air enough to answer.

"ELLEE!!! . . ." Andy yelled after me, but before he could finish his censure, another guest had arrived and he was obliged to turn his attention to her.

Once inside the hall, I helped steady Martell, and then handed her the shoe which had come off during our trip, and told her to "enjoy yourself, Martell . . . DEAR!!!!"

Then I turned and was fleeing to my room, tears streaming down my cheeks, heart broken—NO, not just broken, BUT crushed to pieces!!! As I passed a full-length Louis XIV gold-framed mirror hanging in the hall, I caught the complete picture of ME. What a disaster I was; my face, not looking very great to begin with, was now awash with rivulets of black mascara cascading down my pale cheeks, which were sunken from all the sorrow I had been feeling as a result of everything that had happened that day, AND WAS STILL HAPPENING, for cryin’ out loud!!— MARTELL!!!!!!

I could hear Andy now in the distance talking to Kezeela, who had just arrived, but before I could make it to my room, I realized he was running behind me. All at once, he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face him. My condition—my appearance seemed to shock him and at first he couldn’t say anything. I didn’t want him to see me looking like this. ESPECIALLY after all those beautiful women he had just seen. I was so embarrassed. I braced myself for the tirade that was sure to follow, but when he finally spoke, it was almost a whisper; his eyes had softened; his grip on my shoulders slackened,

"Ellee . . . what’s going on? Why are you dressed like this?"

"ANDY, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" I yelled, wrenching away from him and escaping into my room before he could stop me.

Luckily, everyone had vacated my room. I slammed the door and locked it against Andy, who had, by that time, started banging on it and demanding to be let it.

"GO AWAAAAAY, ANDY!" I wailed.

But before he could again voice his demand, I heard Harriet calling to him that Mizzkel was at the front door. I then heard hesitant footsteps as he left. I sank to the bed realizing how alone I really was, and began sobbing like a blubbering baby!

However, after a while curiosity took over and I wondered what was going on out there. I had to know! I had to see what Andy was doing, and with whom. So, after scrubbing at my tears with the back of my hand, I slowly opened my door, to make sure no one was there, and then crept back into the hallway and made my way toward the buzz of joyful sounds coming from the party.

When I peeked into the dining room, Mysticspiral and Phylicia had both arrived, as had Mizzkel and Mzh. They looked as fantastic as the others, except for one thing—all four of them had purchased the very same dress! The style was simply elegant—bias cut with an excess of fabric along the right side seam, being drawn up over the right side of the heart bodice, down around the left waist, and sewn into the center back seam, creating a rhythm similar to ripples in a gentle stream; the left side of the dress flowing freely from the bottom of the left heart bodice to the floor in front, but extending to a train in the back.

It was a breath-taking dress, BUT there were four of them! And these four women all looked horrified! How could such a thing happen? I heard them saying to one another. And I saw the other ladies whispering among themselves about this fashion debacle. The embarrassment of that alone was enough to drive thoughts of food from one’s mind. How would they ever make it through the evening looking like carbon copies of each other? And what did Andy think? Being male, did he notice? Or was he completely oblivious? I opted for the latter.

Looking over the crowd, I realized that everyone invited was accounted for. They were all there, laughing, talking, enjoying themselves with Andy, who was in the middle, laughing and talking, too. Everyone that is, except me. I wasn’t there. I HADN’T BEEN INVITED!!!! My heart fell, for the umpteenth time that day. I was alone—out in the hall—not a guest at this magnificent party—dressed liked a charwoman, which of course, I was—not a guest, but a charwoman. That was me! Pauvre Petite Moi! Pauvre Petite Charwoman Moi! Sobs were threatening.

As I managed to choke back the tears, my eyes came across Julia—she was dressed in a dainty shell-pink, extremely short chiffon cocktail dress, with halter top. Although it fit her form, it had 4-inch bias-cut ruffles layered down the skirt with graduated circle-cut bias strips hanging from the hem at 5-inch intervals, allowing her bare knees access to the light. A long piece of this same pink chiffon fabric served as her shoulder wrap but, which she now had tied around Andy in an attempt to keep him close, and center his attention on her—she was obviously having difficulty sharing Andy with the other gals. She was also having difficulty keeping her hands out of his hair, which he hadn’t sheared off in about five weeks. Finally Andy undid the wrap and extracted her hands from his hair, gave them a little squeeze, flashed her a sweet smile, gently patted her pink check, and then walked away to talk to Kezeela. Julia didn’t take too kindly to that because I thought I heard her hissing just then.

As I observed each of the guests that evening, there was one thing which stood out and was quite obvious—the tensile factor of every soutien-gorge in that room had to far exceed actual government regulations for such things.

Finally, after a few more minutes, I saw Andy pick up a butter knife and begin tapping it against the side of a water goblet to get their attention. Then, with a twinkling in his eye and a mischievous little grin tugging at his lips, he announced,

" Dearest Anderfans . . . you fetching little vixens! Welcome to my place, LET THE PARTY BEGIN!"

At that moment I heard the fetching little vixens all start giggling, just before The Captain and Tenille launched the party with,

"Love . . . love will keep us together . . .

The place really began to rock then, and everyone started singing along as French waiters began serving tall champaign glasses filled to overflowing with mineral water bubbly. Then Andy began the first of many toasts and everyone raised their glasses—and I . . . I was all alone, outside looking in—charwomen are never invited to something like this. The singing and toasts continued until The Captain and Tenille vocalized the last of Neil's words,

Stop . . .’ cause, I really love you; stop . . . I’ll be thinking of you—

Look in my heart . . . and let love keep us together, whatever.

When the music stopped, a cheer went up as everyone realized this was the greatest party of their lives, and they were with the greatest host of their lives—their very own Andy! At least everyone thought he was 'her very own Andy.' Finally, that greatest of hosts, in the most gallant way possible, seated each lady personally, and after sliding the chair in close to the table, gave each one a little shoulder squeeze, eliciting many audible gasps—and in response to that, many Andergiggles were heard.

As I watched the Andergaggle sitting there at that lavish table in all its splendor, beautiful women in their chic expensive gowns, their jewelry, their 12-inch heels, matching Gucci bags, their hair extensions, fake nails, false eyelashes, and simulated diamond dinner rings from Wal-Mart, with Anderson, himself at the head of the table, so handsome, refined, suave, gallant, polished, dapper, debonair, cosmopolitan, plucky, metropolitan, dashing, well-bred, genteel, sophisticated, gracious, and just plain cute, I was suddenly seized with heartbreak, the magnitude of a number ten earthquake, and a jealous rage so thorough and so complete, I wanted to rip the jugular vein from every woman there, tie them all together in a frilly red bow and throw it at Andy!! But instead I just went to my room, flung myself across the bed and cried great sobs of utter grief!!!!

Bye for now,
Love,
Grief-stricken Ellee