Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on May 11, 2008 11:06:47 GMT -5
Cast: Esmé Squalor; Jerome Squalor; Carmelita Spats; Emma Squalor.
Author’s Disclaimer: I do not own A Series of Unfortunate Events or any of the characters or places mentioned herein. They belong to Lemony Snicket a.k.a. Daniel Handler. Emma Squalor belongs to me.
Rating: G
Genre: General
Story-Type: One-Shot
Summery: Two separate events leading up to one very special Mother’s Day that Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor will never forget.
Author’s Note: I would like to dedicate this story to my own wonderful mother. She’s done so much for my brother and me, including raising us both after our father died. She also let us finish our school careers in one place, and didn’t force us to move from one neighborhood to the next like her own parents made her do as a child. So, this story is for her.
“Shiny.”
Emma pressed her little upturned nose against the front window of the Very Fashionable Diamonds Jewelry Store, marveling at a large diamond ring. Turning to Jerome, she asked, “Get fo’ Mama?”
Jerome smiled from his place beside his stepdaughter. “We’ll see,” he said. “But wouldn’t you like to have a look inside first before we make our decision?”
“More die-mands inside?”
Jerome chuckled. “Among other things.” He held out his hand, and Emma took it. Jerome pushed open the door of the shop, causing the little bell above to jingle, and the two of them entered.
The shopkeeper was an elderly man with white hair that stuck straight up in front and a pair of tiny spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. He glanced up at the sound of the bell from his place behind the counter and said kindly, “Good morning. Is there anything I can help you find?”
“Thank you,” Jerome said. “We’re just browsing.”
“Well, let me know if you need any assistance.”
Jerome had just found himself becoming distracted by a pair of sapphire earrings when he felt Emma’s hand slip from his. He turned just in time to see the four-year-old hurry over to a counter displaying an assortment of lockets.
“Did you find something, Emma?” Jerome asked, sauntering over to her.
Emma pushed her small finger up against the glass. “Heart,” she proclaimed.
Jerome knelt down beside his small daughter and saw that she was referring to a golden locket in the shape of a heart with a small polished crystal imbedded in the center.
“Heart-shaped wocket,” Emma said. “Wike heart-shaped bawoon?”
Jerome reached up and ruffled her hair. “That’s right, sweetheart,” he said. “You certainly know your shapes.”
“Buy wocket fo’ Mama?”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to look around a bit more?”
“Wocket,” Emma said firmly.
“It certainly is pretty,” Jerome said, admiring the piece of jewelry along with his stepdaughter through the glass. “And crystal is the birthstone of April. That’s the month in which your mother was born. Did you know that?”
“Know now.”
“Yes.” Jerome laughed a bit. “I suppose you do, don’t you?”
“Have you two made your choice?” asked the shopkeeper.
“I think so,” Jerome said, taking Emma’s hand as he rose to his full height of six-foot-two. “We’re interested in purchasing the heart-shaped locket with the crystal in it.”
“An excellent choice.” The shopkeeper reached into his pants’ pocket and removed a key, which he inserted into the lock at the back of the display case. He turned the key and there was a clicking sound. He slid back the door and reached inside the case with both hands, sliding the locket into them. “Is it a gift for someone?”
“My wife,” Jerome explained, “for Mother’s Day. I promised our daughter she could pick something out.”
The shopkeeper smiled as he set the locket carefully down on the counter. Jerome scooped Emma into his arms so that she could get a clearer view at the potential gift she had chosen for her mother.
“Isn’t it pretty, Emma? Mama can keep pictures of you and Carmy in there.”
“I’m having a Mother’s Day sale today,” the shopkeeper said. “All engravings are fifty percent off and I will personally wrap any purchase you make for free.”
“Well, that would certainly save me the trouble of having to wrap it myself,” Jerome agreed, then looked at Emma. “But what would the engraving say?”
“Take a few minutes to think it over,” the shopkeeper replied. “While you’re doing that, I’ll go in the back and pick out some suitable gift wrap.”
After the shopkeeper had disappeared into the back room, Jerome set Emma down.
“Any ideas?” he asked.
Emma thought hard about the question, her single eyebrow furrowing in concentration. “Not sure,” she said.
Jerome nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, it’s a hard decision to make, isn’t it? I suppose we could just give Mama the locket the way it is, but having it engraved would make it twice as special. Do you know what I mean, Emma?”
Emma reached over and touched Jerome’s cheek. “Emma know what Jerry mean.”
Jerome couldn’t help himself, and he laughed out loud. Usually he hated being called “Jerry”, but hearing the word pour from his stepdaughter’s mouth was somehow amusing. “What on Earth makes you think I like being called ‘Jerry’?”Jerome asked.
“Heard man wit sungrasses at diner call you dat,” Emma said. “Thought you wiked it.”
“Well, usually I don’t. But I suppose I don’t mind it as much coming from you.” To prove it, Jerome leaned forward and kissed Emma on the spot where her eyebrow should separate.
“Have you figured out yet what it is you’d like to have engraved?” asked the shopkeeper, who reappeared a moment later with the wrapping paper.
“I’m afraid not,” Jerome replied with a frown. “It looks like you’ll just have to wrap it as is.”
“Emma got it,” Emma spoke up. “Have good idea.”
“Really? What is it?”
“How ‘bout ’I wuv you, Mama. Wuv Emma.’ Dat good?”
Jerome beamed, giving his stepdaughter a big hug. “Oh, Emma, it’s more than good,” he exclaimed. “It’s smashing!”
Emma threw up her arms in delight. “Smashy!” she cried.
The shopkeeper chortled. “I take it you’ve reached your decision?” he inquired.
“That’s right, sir,” replied Jerome.
“Excellent. The process doesn’t take long at all. Come back in an hour, and I’ll show you the finished product before I wrap it.”
“Alright.” Jerome stood up, and once more took Emma by the hand. “That will give us enough time to hit the Very Fine Desserts Bakery and the Very Floral Discount Flower Shop.”
“Buy more pwesents fo’ Mama?” Emma asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” Jerome said. “And I’ll buy you a cookie.”
“With chocolate spwinkles?”
“If you like.”
Jerome and Emma left the shop and headed across the parking lot to the place where he had parked his dark blue Lexus.
They drove across town to the Very Fine Desserts Bakery where Jerome purchased a heart-shaped velvet box of assorted chocolates for Esmé and a giant cookie covered in vanilla frosting with chocolate sprinkles for Emma.
Afterward, Jerome and Emma traveled on to the Floral District where they stopped in at the Very Floral Discount Flower Shop and bought two-dozen red roses.
It took less than an hour to complete their errands, giving them plenty of time to make it back to the Jewelry District and pick up Esmé’s gift.
“Well, here it is,” said the shopkeeper, holding up the locket on which he had engraved Emma’s message to her mother on the back. “Is that suiting enough?”
“Very much so,” Jerome agreed, peering closely at the message from behind his reading glasses. “What do you think, Emma?”
“Think it’s smashy,” Emma said, and the two adults laughed.
“Splendid,” the shopkeeper said.
Jerome and Emma then watched as the shopkeeper carefully set the locket down in a snow-white box and wrapped it in shiny golden paper. For the finishing touch, he tied a silver ribbon around the box.
“Here you go, young lady,” the shopkeeper said with a smile as he placed the box in Emma’s small hands. “I hope your mother enjoys the gift you’ve chosen for her.”
“Oh, I don’t think we have to worry about that,” Jerome said, and winked at Emma.
Still holding her in one arm, Jerome dug around his pocket with his other hand until he found his credit card. He handed it to the shopkeeper, who ran it through the scanner and then gave the credit card back to Jerome. The receipt printed out, and somehow he managed to sign it without even almostdropping his stepdaughter.
“Thank you,” said the shopkeeper, dropping the signed receipt into the register.
“Goodbye,” Jerome replied, and tipped his hat as he held the door open for Emma. “Thank you for all your assistance.”
“’Bye-bye,” Emma said. On her way out the door, she held up the hand in which she clutched Esmé’s gift.
“Have a good afternoon,” the shopkeeper said, and waved as he watched his two most recent customers disappear through the door.
“Procrastination” is a word that Carmelita Spats had become all too familiar with during her seventeen years on this Earth. Normally, she was the type of person who worked well under pressure. However, when it involved those closest to her, her brain seemed to have its very own pause button.
Of course, her upcoming final exams were not an excuse for being unable to come up with a Mother’s Day gift for Esmé. Carmelita knew that Jerome and Emma were going to be home any minute with an absolutely smashing gift. It made Carmelita feel like such a failure as the Squalor’s adopted daughter, when all she had done for the past hour was sit in her room at her desk and stare at her computer screen.
She covered her face with her hands and groaned. Nothing ever seemed to go the way it was supposed to— at least not in her life. She had never felt so uncreative or so useless.
That was when a memory from Carmelita’s past popped into her head. It was something she had said as a young girl; something that now sounded so absurd and was so embarrassing that it actually made her laugh out loud.
Drawing her hands away from her face, she looked ahead of her at the computer screen. As she continued to stare, an image seemed to fill the screen. It was an image of her at twelve years old, sitting in a cave surrounded by a group of other children. All of them— including herself —were wearing fencing masks, and her ears filled with the sound of her own voice:
“’…I’m the most accommodating, basic, calm, darling, emblematic, frisky, grinning, human, innocent, jumping, kept, limited, meek, nap-loving, official, pretty, quarantined, recent, scheduled, tidy, understandable, victorious, wholesome, xylophone, young, and zippered.’”
Suddenly, a thought struck Carmelita. “Of course!” she exclaimed. “That’s what I can do for Esmé for Mother’s Day. I’ll write her an Alphabet Pledge.” Carmelita smacked her palm against her forehead, wondering why she hadn’t thought of this an hour earlier. “What a cakesniffer I am!”
Pushing herself back from the desk, Carmelita stood up and hurried over to her closet. She flung open the doors and began sifting through it for her art supplies. She soon came across a large piece of poster board, a box of colored pencils, a stencil with cut-outs of various floral shapes, and a box of multi-colored glitter. As she continued to dig through the closet, she was pleased to discover a box of markers that Emma had not yet gotten her hands on and therefore had not been able to wear down the tips.
Shoving everything back into the closet except for the poster board, colored pencils, markers, and stencil, Carmelita shut the doors. Then, laying both the poster board and herself flat on her stomach against the carpet, she got to work.
Because writing an entire Alphabet Pledge about Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor would require both a little more time and a much bigger vocabulary on Carmelita’s part, she decided to improvise. Therefore, she decided to rely on the letters in her adoptive mother’s name as the starting points.
Taking up a magenta marker, Carmelita wrote each letter of her adoptive mother’s name down the right side of the poster board. Once Carmelita had done that, she reached for a black marker and filled in each letter with a word that not only began with that letter, but which also fit what she considered Esmé to be.
When Carmelita had finished, her result looked like this:
Excellent
Superb
Marvelous
Énjoyable to be around
Graceful
In
Giving
Irreplaceable
Gifted
Enticing
Nice
Effervescent
Vivacious
Incredible
Excellent sense of style
Very in
Exceptional
Superb
Queen of fashion
Understanding
Amazing
Loving
Outstanding mother and wife
Reasonable[/i]
Once she had finished with the first part of her project, Carmelita picked up her stencil and set it down on the top left-hand corner of the poster board. She stenciled out a rose, then moved the stencil down to the lower corner and drew another.
She filled the remainder of the blank spaces on the poster board with stenciled flowers. She was reaching for the box of pencils to color the flowers in with when her hand brushed over the box of glitter. It suddenly occurred to her that the flowers might stand out more if she used glitter on them rather than if she simply colored them by hand.
After considering this idea for a moment, Carmelita stood up and went over to her desk. She pulled open one of the side drawers and searched through it until she found a bottle of Elmer’s Glue. She returned to her project and opened the glue. Very carefully, she used it to trace over each flower and then sprinkled a generous amount of glitter onto it, making sure to alternate between colors. By the time she had completed work on her gift for her mother, Carmelita was left with a feeling of both fulfillment and pride.
She picked up the poster board and carried it over to the wastepaper basket to shake off the remnants of the glitter. Just as she had finished doing that, she realized something: this would be the first time in which Carmelita would be giving her adoptive mother something she had constructed with her own two hands. Esmé had always shown enthusiasm in the face of Emma’s drawings, but was that only because Emma was still a little kid and was therefore unable to purchase gifts herself? Carmelita was a junior in high school with a part-time job as a waitress at an upscale restaurant, and therefore she had money. What if Esmé became angry with Carmelita, all because she had chosen to create something rather than purchase it at a boutique like she usually did?
Still, Esmé had to realize that both Carmelita’s exams and job made it virtually impossible to have time for anything else.
“Alright, don’t panic,” Carmelita told herself. “You’ve known Esmé for a long time. She isn’t going to yell at you simply because you didn’t buy her Mother’s Day gift at the In Boutique.”
Carmelita was beginning to wrestle between the idea of giving Esmé the gift that she had spent nearly three hours working on and driving down to the Clothing District, when the sound of the front door opening caught her attention.
“Esmé, Carmelita,” Jerome’s voice echoed from the other end of the hallway. “We’re home!”
“And that cancels out Plan B,” Carmelita concluded, and ran out the door to go greet her adoptive father and sister.
Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor padded silently down the hallway of her seventy-one bedroom penthouse apartment in her fuzzy pink bedroom slippers. She was wearing her white silk nightgown with its matching transparent overlay, but had made up her face and fixed her hair in the style she liked best.
She had been looking forward to this day all week, and was taking great enjoyment in the fact that for once she did not need to worry about anything. It seemed to her that all she did lately was worry about Emma falling off some high place, or about Carmelita, who had recently gotten her driver’s license.
Esmé found her husband and two daughters waiting for her in her favorite sitting room— the one with the red velvet couch and a window with a view of the Veritable French Diner and orange juice factories. Jerome and Carmelita were standing in front of the coffee table where a bouquet of roses, a heart-shaped box of candy, and a smaller box wrapped in gold paper with a silver ribbon had been set. Emma was sitting on the couch, and tapped an empty spot beside her with her hand.
“Sit here, Mama,” she instructed.
“You’re still in your nightgown, Esmé?” Jerome asked as he watched his wife take a seat next to her daughter.
“Well, yes,” Esmé admitted. “I thought that with it being my special day and everything, I would have the opportunity to dress a little more casually than I usually do.”
“You do, darling. It’s just that I made reservations for the four of us at the Veritable French Diner for dinner tonight. Before we leave, you may want to think about changing into something more suitable.”
Esmé blushed. “Oh. Of course.”
Emma could sense the awkwardness building in the room, and reached across the coffee table for the small box. She picked it up and handed it to Esmé. “Here, Mama,” Emma said. “This fo’ you fwom Emma.”
Esmé took the box from her daughter and smiled. “Why, thank you, sweetheart,” Esmé replied.
“Welcome.”
As Esmé slowly began to untie the silver ribbon from around the small box, the eyes of her husband and daughters watched intently.
When at last she started to tear away the gold paper, she turned to Emma and asked, “I wonder what it could be?”
“Open,” Emma replied.
Esmé tore away the rest of the paper to reveal the snow-white box. As she lifted the lid, her eyes widened at the gold heart-shaped locket inside.
“Oh, darling,” she gasped. “This is exquisite! And you really picked it out all by yourself?”
Smiling, Emma turned to Jerome. “Jerry help,” she said.
Esmé, Jerome, and Carmelita all laughed.
“So it’s Jerry now, is it?” Esmé asked. “I was always under the impression that you hated being called that, Jerome.”
“Well, I do,” Jerome admitted. “But when Emma does it, somehow I don’t mind as much.”
“Mama, wook on back,” Emma said.
“She means the locket,” Jerome clarified.
Carefully, Esmé removed the locket from its box and turned the locket around. “’I love you, Mama,’” she read aloud. “’Love Emma.” Esmé felt her eyes fill with tears, and she pulled Emma into her lap for a hug. “Thank you so much, darling. I love it.”
“So,” Emma said, “you wike wocket? Emma did good?”
“Yes.” Esmé wiped away a tear from her eye. “It’s one of the nicest gifts that anyone has ever given me.”
“Emma gwad. Emma want to make Mama happy.”
“And you do,” said Esmé. “You and Carmelita both.”
Emma let go of her mother, and Esmé unclasped the chain attached to the locket. She was lifting it to her neck so that she could put it on when Jerome stepped forward.
“Here, darling,” he said. “Let me do that for you.”
For once, Esmé allowed her husband to use his big, clumsy hands for something other than touching her stomach. She smiled as she felt his fingertips sweep gently over the back of her neck and struggle momentarily with the clasp.
No one noticed Carmelita as she reached behind one of the armchairs and brought out her gift for Esmé. Now that Carmelita had seen the gift Emma had for their mother, Carmelita could not help but feel a little intimidated. How in the world could she expect something constructed out of poster board, markers, and glitter to compete with something made of pure gold?
Biting her bottom lip a little, Carmelita approached Esmé. “Um… I have something for you, too,” Carmelita said, holding up the poster board. “It’s not as fancy as what Emma gave you, but I did work really hard on it.” Nervously, Carmelita handed Esmé her present. “If you don’t like it, then it’s okay. I know it isn’t exactly the kind of present you’re used to receiving. It’s just that I’ve been so busy lately, I didn’t have time to go shopping even though really I wanted to.”
For a long moment, Esmé simply gazed down at the item she now held in her hands. She had not been given something handmade ever since she was a child, when her parents could not afford birthday or Christmas presents. Her mother would usually make her a dress, while her father would take the less honest approach and give her a box of gum that he had stolen out of the storeroom at Lucky Smells Lumbermill. Seeing Carmelita go to the same efforts as her mother had was enough to summon tears to Esmé’s eyes in an instant. She brushed them away, hoping that no one would notice.
“I’m sorry, Esmé,” Carmelita said, suddenly feeling very annoyed with herself. “I’ll do better next time. I’ll get you a gift certificate to Café Salmonella. How does that sound?”
Esmé sniffled, and looked up at her eldest daughter in surprise. “What on Earth are you talking about, Carmy?” she asked. “This means every bit as much to me as anything you could ever find in a store!”
Carmelita blinked, as if she could not believe the words coming out of Esmé’s mouth. “It does?”
“Yes.” Esmé stretched out her arm, and with her hand motioned for Carmelita to sit down on the couch with her and Emma.
Carmelita sat down beside her mother, and Esmé set her present aside on the coffee table so that she could give her daughter a hug.
“So, you’re not crying because you’re disappointed?” Carmelita asked.
“No,” Esmé replied. “Absolutely not. I’m crying because this is one of the most thoughtful things that anyone has ever done for me.”
“I just wanted to give you something special. After everything you’ve done for me, I wanted to show you how much I appreciate it all.”
“Well, you could not have picked a more smashing way to show it.” Esmé put one arm around Carmelita, and the other around Emma. “You two girls have helped make this Mother’s Day the best I’ve ever had.” Esmé kissed Carmelita on the cheek, and then Emma. “Thank you.”
“Jerry, too?” Emma asked.
“Yes, of course Jerry, too,” Esmé said. “Come over here, Jerry.”
Jerome sat down on the couch, and Emma crawled into her mother’s lap so that everyone was able to be close to Esmé. She reached over and gave her husband a long, passionate kiss on the mouth. Emma reacted to this by uttering an objectionable “Ewww!” while Jerome reacted by blushing like a schoolgirl, which was completely in character for him.
“Thank you,” Esmé said, “all of you. For making this Mother’s Day the most smashing one I’ve ever had.”
Author’s Disclaimer: I do not own A Series of Unfortunate Events or any of the characters or places mentioned herein. They belong to Lemony Snicket a.k.a. Daniel Handler. Emma Squalor belongs to me.
Rating: G
Genre: General
Story-Type: One-Shot
Summery: Two separate events leading up to one very special Mother’s Day that Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor will never forget.
Author’s Note: I would like to dedicate this story to my own wonderful mother. She’s done so much for my brother and me, including raising us both after our father died. She also let us finish our school careers in one place, and didn’t force us to move from one neighborhood to the next like her own parents made her do as a child. So, this story is for her.
♥ Straight from the Heart ♥
An “A Series of Unfortunate Events” Mother’s Day Fanfic
♥ Part 1 ♥
[/center]An “A Series of Unfortunate Events” Mother’s Day Fanfic
♥ Part 1 ♥
“Shiny.”
Emma pressed her little upturned nose against the front window of the Very Fashionable Diamonds Jewelry Store, marveling at a large diamond ring. Turning to Jerome, she asked, “Get fo’ Mama?”
Jerome smiled from his place beside his stepdaughter. “We’ll see,” he said. “But wouldn’t you like to have a look inside first before we make our decision?”
“More die-mands inside?”
Jerome chuckled. “Among other things.” He held out his hand, and Emma took it. Jerome pushed open the door of the shop, causing the little bell above to jingle, and the two of them entered.
The shopkeeper was an elderly man with white hair that stuck straight up in front and a pair of tiny spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. He glanced up at the sound of the bell from his place behind the counter and said kindly, “Good morning. Is there anything I can help you find?”
“Thank you,” Jerome said. “We’re just browsing.”
“Well, let me know if you need any assistance.”
Jerome had just found himself becoming distracted by a pair of sapphire earrings when he felt Emma’s hand slip from his. He turned just in time to see the four-year-old hurry over to a counter displaying an assortment of lockets.
“Did you find something, Emma?” Jerome asked, sauntering over to her.
Emma pushed her small finger up against the glass. “Heart,” she proclaimed.
Jerome knelt down beside his small daughter and saw that she was referring to a golden locket in the shape of a heart with a small polished crystal imbedded in the center.
“Heart-shaped wocket,” Emma said. “Wike heart-shaped bawoon?”
Jerome reached up and ruffled her hair. “That’s right, sweetheart,” he said. “You certainly know your shapes.”
“Buy wocket fo’ Mama?”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to look around a bit more?”
“Wocket,” Emma said firmly.
“It certainly is pretty,” Jerome said, admiring the piece of jewelry along with his stepdaughter through the glass. “And crystal is the birthstone of April. That’s the month in which your mother was born. Did you know that?”
“Know now.”
“Yes.” Jerome laughed a bit. “I suppose you do, don’t you?”
“Have you two made your choice?” asked the shopkeeper.
“I think so,” Jerome said, taking Emma’s hand as he rose to his full height of six-foot-two. “We’re interested in purchasing the heart-shaped locket with the crystal in it.”
“An excellent choice.” The shopkeeper reached into his pants’ pocket and removed a key, which he inserted into the lock at the back of the display case. He turned the key and there was a clicking sound. He slid back the door and reached inside the case with both hands, sliding the locket into them. “Is it a gift for someone?”
“My wife,” Jerome explained, “for Mother’s Day. I promised our daughter she could pick something out.”
The shopkeeper smiled as he set the locket carefully down on the counter. Jerome scooped Emma into his arms so that she could get a clearer view at the potential gift she had chosen for her mother.
“Isn’t it pretty, Emma? Mama can keep pictures of you and Carmy in there.”
“I’m having a Mother’s Day sale today,” the shopkeeper said. “All engravings are fifty percent off and I will personally wrap any purchase you make for free.”
“Well, that would certainly save me the trouble of having to wrap it myself,” Jerome agreed, then looked at Emma. “But what would the engraving say?”
“Take a few minutes to think it over,” the shopkeeper replied. “While you’re doing that, I’ll go in the back and pick out some suitable gift wrap.”
After the shopkeeper had disappeared into the back room, Jerome set Emma down.
“Any ideas?” he asked.
Emma thought hard about the question, her single eyebrow furrowing in concentration. “Not sure,” she said.
Jerome nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, it’s a hard decision to make, isn’t it? I suppose we could just give Mama the locket the way it is, but having it engraved would make it twice as special. Do you know what I mean, Emma?”
Emma reached over and touched Jerome’s cheek. “Emma know what Jerry mean.”
Jerome couldn’t help himself, and he laughed out loud. Usually he hated being called “Jerry”, but hearing the word pour from his stepdaughter’s mouth was somehow amusing. “What on Earth makes you think I like being called ‘Jerry’?”Jerome asked.
“Heard man wit sungrasses at diner call you dat,” Emma said. “Thought you wiked it.”
“Well, usually I don’t. But I suppose I don’t mind it as much coming from you.” To prove it, Jerome leaned forward and kissed Emma on the spot where her eyebrow should separate.
“Have you figured out yet what it is you’d like to have engraved?” asked the shopkeeper, who reappeared a moment later with the wrapping paper.
“I’m afraid not,” Jerome replied with a frown. “It looks like you’ll just have to wrap it as is.”
“Emma got it,” Emma spoke up. “Have good idea.”
“Really? What is it?”
“How ‘bout ’I wuv you, Mama. Wuv Emma.’ Dat good?”
Jerome beamed, giving his stepdaughter a big hug. “Oh, Emma, it’s more than good,” he exclaimed. “It’s smashing!”
Emma threw up her arms in delight. “Smashy!” she cried.
The shopkeeper chortled. “I take it you’ve reached your decision?” he inquired.
“That’s right, sir,” replied Jerome.
“Excellent. The process doesn’t take long at all. Come back in an hour, and I’ll show you the finished product before I wrap it.”
“Alright.” Jerome stood up, and once more took Emma by the hand. “That will give us enough time to hit the Very Fine Desserts Bakery and the Very Floral Discount Flower Shop.”
“Buy more pwesents fo’ Mama?” Emma asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” Jerome said. “And I’ll buy you a cookie.”
“With chocolate spwinkles?”
“If you like.”
Jerome and Emma left the shop and headed across the parking lot to the place where he had parked his dark blue Lexus.
They drove across town to the Very Fine Desserts Bakery where Jerome purchased a heart-shaped velvet box of assorted chocolates for Esmé and a giant cookie covered in vanilla frosting with chocolate sprinkles for Emma.
Afterward, Jerome and Emma traveled on to the Floral District where they stopped in at the Very Floral Discount Flower Shop and bought two-dozen red roses.
It took less than an hour to complete their errands, giving them plenty of time to make it back to the Jewelry District and pick up Esmé’s gift.
“Well, here it is,” said the shopkeeper, holding up the locket on which he had engraved Emma’s message to her mother on the back. “Is that suiting enough?”
“Very much so,” Jerome agreed, peering closely at the message from behind his reading glasses. “What do you think, Emma?”
“Think it’s smashy,” Emma said, and the two adults laughed.
“Splendid,” the shopkeeper said.
Jerome and Emma then watched as the shopkeeper carefully set the locket down in a snow-white box and wrapped it in shiny golden paper. For the finishing touch, he tied a silver ribbon around the box.
“Here you go, young lady,” the shopkeeper said with a smile as he placed the box in Emma’s small hands. “I hope your mother enjoys the gift you’ve chosen for her.”
“Oh, I don’t think we have to worry about that,” Jerome said, and winked at Emma.
Still holding her in one arm, Jerome dug around his pocket with his other hand until he found his credit card. He handed it to the shopkeeper, who ran it through the scanner and then gave the credit card back to Jerome. The receipt printed out, and somehow he managed to sign it without even almostdropping his stepdaughter.
“Thank you,” said the shopkeeper, dropping the signed receipt into the register.
“Goodbye,” Jerome replied, and tipped his hat as he held the door open for Emma. “Thank you for all your assistance.”
“’Bye-bye,” Emma said. On her way out the door, she held up the hand in which she clutched Esmé’s gift.
“Have a good afternoon,” the shopkeeper said, and waved as he watched his two most recent customers disappear through the door.
♥ Part 2 ♥
“Procrastination” is a word that Carmelita Spats had become all too familiar with during her seventeen years on this Earth. Normally, she was the type of person who worked well under pressure. However, when it involved those closest to her, her brain seemed to have its very own pause button.
Of course, her upcoming final exams were not an excuse for being unable to come up with a Mother’s Day gift for Esmé. Carmelita knew that Jerome and Emma were going to be home any minute with an absolutely smashing gift. It made Carmelita feel like such a failure as the Squalor’s adopted daughter, when all she had done for the past hour was sit in her room at her desk and stare at her computer screen.
She covered her face with her hands and groaned. Nothing ever seemed to go the way it was supposed to— at least not in her life. She had never felt so uncreative or so useless.
That was when a memory from Carmelita’s past popped into her head. It was something she had said as a young girl; something that now sounded so absurd and was so embarrassing that it actually made her laugh out loud.
Drawing her hands away from her face, she looked ahead of her at the computer screen. As she continued to stare, an image seemed to fill the screen. It was an image of her at twelve years old, sitting in a cave surrounded by a group of other children. All of them— including herself —were wearing fencing masks, and her ears filled with the sound of her own voice:
“’…I’m the most accommodating, basic, calm, darling, emblematic, frisky, grinning, human, innocent, jumping, kept, limited, meek, nap-loving, official, pretty, quarantined, recent, scheduled, tidy, understandable, victorious, wholesome, xylophone, young, and zippered.’”
Suddenly, a thought struck Carmelita. “Of course!” she exclaimed. “That’s what I can do for Esmé for Mother’s Day. I’ll write her an Alphabet Pledge.” Carmelita smacked her palm against her forehead, wondering why she hadn’t thought of this an hour earlier. “What a cakesniffer I am!”
Pushing herself back from the desk, Carmelita stood up and hurried over to her closet. She flung open the doors and began sifting through it for her art supplies. She soon came across a large piece of poster board, a box of colored pencils, a stencil with cut-outs of various floral shapes, and a box of multi-colored glitter. As she continued to dig through the closet, she was pleased to discover a box of markers that Emma had not yet gotten her hands on and therefore had not been able to wear down the tips.
Shoving everything back into the closet except for the poster board, colored pencils, markers, and stencil, Carmelita shut the doors. Then, laying both the poster board and herself flat on her stomach against the carpet, she got to work.
Because writing an entire Alphabet Pledge about Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor would require both a little more time and a much bigger vocabulary on Carmelita’s part, she decided to improvise. Therefore, she decided to rely on the letters in her adoptive mother’s name as the starting points.
Taking up a magenta marker, Carmelita wrote each letter of her adoptive mother’s name down the right side of the poster board. Once Carmelita had done that, she reached for a black marker and filled in each letter with a word that not only began with that letter, but which also fit what she considered Esmé to be.
When Carmelita had finished, her result looked like this:
Excellent
Superb
Marvelous
Énjoyable to be around
Graceful
In
Giving
Irreplaceable
Gifted
Enticing
Nice
Effervescent
Vivacious
Incredible
Excellent sense of style
Very in
Exceptional
Superb
Queen of fashion
Understanding
Amazing
Loving
Outstanding mother and wife
Reasonable[/i]
Once she had finished with the first part of her project, Carmelita picked up her stencil and set it down on the top left-hand corner of the poster board. She stenciled out a rose, then moved the stencil down to the lower corner and drew another.
She filled the remainder of the blank spaces on the poster board with stenciled flowers. She was reaching for the box of pencils to color the flowers in with when her hand brushed over the box of glitter. It suddenly occurred to her that the flowers might stand out more if she used glitter on them rather than if she simply colored them by hand.
After considering this idea for a moment, Carmelita stood up and went over to her desk. She pulled open one of the side drawers and searched through it until she found a bottle of Elmer’s Glue. She returned to her project and opened the glue. Very carefully, she used it to trace over each flower and then sprinkled a generous amount of glitter onto it, making sure to alternate between colors. By the time she had completed work on her gift for her mother, Carmelita was left with a feeling of both fulfillment and pride.
She picked up the poster board and carried it over to the wastepaper basket to shake off the remnants of the glitter. Just as she had finished doing that, she realized something: this would be the first time in which Carmelita would be giving her adoptive mother something she had constructed with her own two hands. Esmé had always shown enthusiasm in the face of Emma’s drawings, but was that only because Emma was still a little kid and was therefore unable to purchase gifts herself? Carmelita was a junior in high school with a part-time job as a waitress at an upscale restaurant, and therefore she had money. What if Esmé became angry with Carmelita, all because she had chosen to create something rather than purchase it at a boutique like she usually did?
Still, Esmé had to realize that both Carmelita’s exams and job made it virtually impossible to have time for anything else.
“Alright, don’t panic,” Carmelita told herself. “You’ve known Esmé for a long time. She isn’t going to yell at you simply because you didn’t buy her Mother’s Day gift at the In Boutique.”
Carmelita was beginning to wrestle between the idea of giving Esmé the gift that she had spent nearly three hours working on and driving down to the Clothing District, when the sound of the front door opening caught her attention.
“Esmé, Carmelita,” Jerome’s voice echoed from the other end of the hallway. “We’re home!”
“And that cancels out Plan B,” Carmelita concluded, and ran out the door to go greet her adoptive father and sister.
♥ Part 3 ♥
Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor padded silently down the hallway of her seventy-one bedroom penthouse apartment in her fuzzy pink bedroom slippers. She was wearing her white silk nightgown with its matching transparent overlay, but had made up her face and fixed her hair in the style she liked best.
She had been looking forward to this day all week, and was taking great enjoyment in the fact that for once she did not need to worry about anything. It seemed to her that all she did lately was worry about Emma falling off some high place, or about Carmelita, who had recently gotten her driver’s license.
Esmé found her husband and two daughters waiting for her in her favorite sitting room— the one with the red velvet couch and a window with a view of the Veritable French Diner and orange juice factories. Jerome and Carmelita were standing in front of the coffee table where a bouquet of roses, a heart-shaped box of candy, and a smaller box wrapped in gold paper with a silver ribbon had been set. Emma was sitting on the couch, and tapped an empty spot beside her with her hand.
“Sit here, Mama,” she instructed.
“You’re still in your nightgown, Esmé?” Jerome asked as he watched his wife take a seat next to her daughter.
“Well, yes,” Esmé admitted. “I thought that with it being my special day and everything, I would have the opportunity to dress a little more casually than I usually do.”
“You do, darling. It’s just that I made reservations for the four of us at the Veritable French Diner for dinner tonight. Before we leave, you may want to think about changing into something more suitable.”
Esmé blushed. “Oh. Of course.”
Emma could sense the awkwardness building in the room, and reached across the coffee table for the small box. She picked it up and handed it to Esmé. “Here, Mama,” Emma said. “This fo’ you fwom Emma.”
Esmé took the box from her daughter and smiled. “Why, thank you, sweetheart,” Esmé replied.
“Welcome.”
As Esmé slowly began to untie the silver ribbon from around the small box, the eyes of her husband and daughters watched intently.
When at last she started to tear away the gold paper, she turned to Emma and asked, “I wonder what it could be?”
“Open,” Emma replied.
Esmé tore away the rest of the paper to reveal the snow-white box. As she lifted the lid, her eyes widened at the gold heart-shaped locket inside.
“Oh, darling,” she gasped. “This is exquisite! And you really picked it out all by yourself?”
Smiling, Emma turned to Jerome. “Jerry help,” she said.
Esmé, Jerome, and Carmelita all laughed.
“So it’s Jerry now, is it?” Esmé asked. “I was always under the impression that you hated being called that, Jerome.”
“Well, I do,” Jerome admitted. “But when Emma does it, somehow I don’t mind as much.”
“Mama, wook on back,” Emma said.
“She means the locket,” Jerome clarified.
Carefully, Esmé removed the locket from its box and turned the locket around. “’I love you, Mama,’” she read aloud. “’Love Emma.” Esmé felt her eyes fill with tears, and she pulled Emma into her lap for a hug. “Thank you so much, darling. I love it.”
“So,” Emma said, “you wike wocket? Emma did good?”
“Yes.” Esmé wiped away a tear from her eye. “It’s one of the nicest gifts that anyone has ever given me.”
“Emma gwad. Emma want to make Mama happy.”
“And you do,” said Esmé. “You and Carmelita both.”
Emma let go of her mother, and Esmé unclasped the chain attached to the locket. She was lifting it to her neck so that she could put it on when Jerome stepped forward.
“Here, darling,” he said. “Let me do that for you.”
For once, Esmé allowed her husband to use his big, clumsy hands for something other than touching her stomach. She smiled as she felt his fingertips sweep gently over the back of her neck and struggle momentarily with the clasp.
No one noticed Carmelita as she reached behind one of the armchairs and brought out her gift for Esmé. Now that Carmelita had seen the gift Emma had for their mother, Carmelita could not help but feel a little intimidated. How in the world could she expect something constructed out of poster board, markers, and glitter to compete with something made of pure gold?
Biting her bottom lip a little, Carmelita approached Esmé. “Um… I have something for you, too,” Carmelita said, holding up the poster board. “It’s not as fancy as what Emma gave you, but I did work really hard on it.” Nervously, Carmelita handed Esmé her present. “If you don’t like it, then it’s okay. I know it isn’t exactly the kind of present you’re used to receiving. It’s just that I’ve been so busy lately, I didn’t have time to go shopping even though really I wanted to.”
For a long moment, Esmé simply gazed down at the item she now held in her hands. She had not been given something handmade ever since she was a child, when her parents could not afford birthday or Christmas presents. Her mother would usually make her a dress, while her father would take the less honest approach and give her a box of gum that he had stolen out of the storeroom at Lucky Smells Lumbermill. Seeing Carmelita go to the same efforts as her mother had was enough to summon tears to Esmé’s eyes in an instant. She brushed them away, hoping that no one would notice.
“I’m sorry, Esmé,” Carmelita said, suddenly feeling very annoyed with herself. “I’ll do better next time. I’ll get you a gift certificate to Café Salmonella. How does that sound?”
Esmé sniffled, and looked up at her eldest daughter in surprise. “What on Earth are you talking about, Carmy?” she asked. “This means every bit as much to me as anything you could ever find in a store!”
Carmelita blinked, as if she could not believe the words coming out of Esmé’s mouth. “It does?”
“Yes.” Esmé stretched out her arm, and with her hand motioned for Carmelita to sit down on the couch with her and Emma.
Carmelita sat down beside her mother, and Esmé set her present aside on the coffee table so that she could give her daughter a hug.
“So, you’re not crying because you’re disappointed?” Carmelita asked.
“No,” Esmé replied. “Absolutely not. I’m crying because this is one of the most thoughtful things that anyone has ever done for me.”
“I just wanted to give you something special. After everything you’ve done for me, I wanted to show you how much I appreciate it all.”
“Well, you could not have picked a more smashing way to show it.” Esmé put one arm around Carmelita, and the other around Emma. “You two girls have helped make this Mother’s Day the best I’ve ever had.” Esmé kissed Carmelita on the cheek, and then Emma. “Thank you.”
“Jerry, too?” Emma asked.
“Yes, of course Jerry, too,” Esmé said. “Come over here, Jerry.”
Jerome sat down on the couch, and Emma crawled into her mother’s lap so that everyone was able to be close to Esmé. She reached over and gave her husband a long, passionate kiss on the mouth. Emma reacted to this by uttering an objectionable “Ewww!” while Jerome reacted by blushing like a schoolgirl, which was completely in character for him.
“Thank you,” Esmé said, “all of you. For making this Mother’s Day the most smashing one I’ve ever had.”
♥ The End ♥