Party Planner
Hosting parties was never my forte. I’d plan for months the perfect color scheme, theme, time, outfit, hors d ’oeuvres, entrée, dishes, centerpiece. So much time spent on details. Then in the end, when it came to the guest list, I’d freeze. I’d write one name, then another. I’d decide they’d have more important plans than mine. I’d cross them out. I’d think of others, but they too would have other friends other parties. I’d think about inviting people I barely knew and try to make stronger connections. I’d vow to do it this once.
“Be Brave, Eloise,“ I’d tell myself.
I’d march to the stationary store and find the crispest finest linen cards. Every time was the time I thought would be different. I’d meander home. I’d detour by the park to say hello to the crows. I wished could invite them to my gala. I’d sit on a park bench, linen cards clenched between my knees as I dug through my coat pocket for a packet of crackers. The Crows were always happy to see me. When the sun set, I’d say good bye to my friends and stroll the rest of the way home. I’d be too tired to write cards tonight.
“In the morning,” I promised myself. I’d crawl over piles of clothes to my bed and dream of the fonts I would use. Endless calligraphic swirls and loops would whisk me away to dreamland where my events were elegant, my guests were witty and I was the belle of it all.
Often in the morning, I’d pull out the linen cards and see how I’d crushed them. They wouldn’t be worthy for invitations now. I’d realize I couldn’t send Halloween invitations after October 1, and I’d toss them in the trash. Next time would be different.
I’d picked out a lovely gown with little blue stars with a high neck and an open back. I catered dinner by checking boxes off a menu. As the guests arrived in beautiful white dresses, or coats with tails, they asked questions so naturally they must have been rehearsed. They patted my hand and told me not to worry before moving to my left to engage the next guest. I closed my eyes and celebrated that I had finally achieved my life’s dream and thrown a successful party. I was ready.
“Code Blue, I need …”
I drifted off.
400 Words- culling edits
