Tzimmes Cracked Corn (And I Don’t Care)
A Spontoon Island story
© 2022 Walter Reimer
(Characters courtesy of M. Mitch Marmel, J.T. Urie and E.O. Costello. Thanks!)

Thumbnail art by  SusanDeer

37.


Willow:

“No. Absolutely not.”

I looked at Rosie.

“But – “

Rosie looked back at me.

“I said ‘No.’”

And things had been going so well.

Da and Rosie had shown up at about ten o’clock that morning, and the brunch was delicious. Everyone was having an enjoyable time, with Da keeping Tommy in his arms when he wasn’t eating.

When Da was eating, it was Rosie’s turn to hold her step-grandchild.

And then Reggie produced a set of papers, folded, with a blue paper backing the sheaf so when it was folded it could look like a short booklet. He said, “I wanted to make sure we were all alone, just the four of us, before I gave you and Rosie your wedding present,” as he offered it to Da.

Da blinked at it before taking it and opening it. He barely made it to the second page before closing it and saying, “No. Absolutely not.”

Which brings you up to speed now.

Reggie sighed and gave me a beseeching look. I had Grace step up. “Da – “

He wagged a finger at me. “Grace, I know what you’re going to say.”

Rosie said, “Well, I don’t. Someone care to clue me in?”

Reggie replied, “Well, when the Sire made me Vice-Chairman, I was given a block of the company’s preferred stock. I can’t sell it or give it away, but I can assign the dividends to whoever I want.” Rosie made a silent ‘O’ with her mouth as Reggie pointed at the folded papers. “That’s what that is. It’s in both your names – “

“And I said – “

“Gimme.” Rosie, still cradling Tommy, reached out and plucked the papers out of Da’s paws. She glanced inside and whistled.

“Rosie!”

“Shh,” my stepmother said to Da. “I’m not too proud, Franneleh.”

I think I was the only one who caught the emphasis.

Well, Da did, too, and his ears swiveled.

“Well, dash it all, Sir, I’m not expecting you to go on a spending spree,” Reggie said. “I’m sure that you and Rosie would be comfortable. You’re both very thrifty. But please, think it over – “

“I won’t accept charity.”

To my amazement, that drew a whistling snort from my husband. “Don’t think of it as charity, Franklin,” and Da glared at Reggie as he added, “you and Rosie are family, and I won’t turn my back on family. But unexpected expenses, rainy days – a fawn, perhaps?” And he nodded toward Tommy, who was dozing in Rosie’s arms. “You may not need it now, but what about college? I’m sure you’d want to send your son or daughter to university when he or she are old enough.”

There was a brief silence, and I saw something I have only rarely witnessed.

Da took a deep breath, let it out – and surrendered. “All right, Reggie. You make some very good arguments.” He extended a paw.

Reggie took it. “Every time I wondered if I was doing the right thing, I’d look in on Tommy.” He smiled at me. “And I knew I was doing the right thing.”


***


Brush:

“’Morning, Orrin.”

“Mornin,’ Chief. Wassup?”

Chief Sapper don’t usually come down ta th’ Detectin’ Bureau. That’s cuz th’ Inspector usually goes upstairs to talk wit’ him if somethin’s up. “Just wanted to talk with you.” He cops a squat. “Until the Inspector gets back from his honeymoon, you’re going to be the Detective Bureau.”

“Yessir.” Done it before, when th’ Inspector took sick.

“I just want you to know,” th’ bulldog sez, “if something comes across your desk that you feel you can’t handle, you let me know.”

“Thanks, Sir.”

“Anytime, day or night.”

“Thanks, Sir.” See, Sapper’s good people; he ain’t like that slob Pickerin.’ I gives him a grin. “I don’t think there’ll be any trouble, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Heard from a few furs. Word’s got ‘round that th’ Inspector’s a, whaddayacallit, ‘restraining influence’ on me.” He starts smilin,’ an’ I sez, “Don’t t’ink there’ll be any trouble.”

We share a chuckle, an’ Sapper sez, “Well, like I said, if something should come up, you let me know.”

“Sure thing, Sir.” Th’ Chief goes back upstairs, an’ I start readin’ over th’ daily report Ciss Lopp’s made up.


***


Rosie:

“Really?” Vicky asked me. She glanced back at Nick, who had his ears turned in my direction. “I thought you were giving us some time off.”

“I’m just giving you and Nick a choice,” I said. “The Shoshone Skypaths flight leaves in two days, and Franneleh and I will be gone for a week. I don’t want to leave you two, of all people, hanging out to dry.”

My vixen chum grinned. “Well, I could use a couple days off. There’s a nice tod who’s insisting on squiring me around.”

“I, Nikolai Ivanovich, would also like two days. He needs rest.”

I smiled. “So, we agree? You’ll run Luchow’s together until I get back?” They nodded, and I gave each of them a hug. “I swear, you two are the very best.”

Vicky laughed and gave me a hug. “Now, you don’t worry about anything. Just you take care of your buck.” Her brush flicked back and forth. “We promise to keep B’onss and K’nutt from destroying the place.”

Nick merely gave a deep chuckle and ran a paw over the cleaver hanging up beside the rest of his knives.

So there was that taken care of. Luchow’s would be in good paws, and I went upstairs to start packing.

We were both going to be traveling light, if you know what I mean, although I was packing his tux and my evening gown for a return trip to the Triton Café for at least one dinner.

At least.


***


Reggie:

Goodness, that was rather tense, what?

After my in-laws left, I felt a bit restless, so Willow, Tommy and I went out for a walk and a bit of playtime out on the beach. Willow looks absolutely spiffing in a bathing suit, by the way.

Of course, Willow looks absolutely spiffing in everything.

When we returned to Shepherd’s there were two messages waiting for me. The first was from Mr. Lupino, the manager of the place, and included an itemized list of the damages to the Long Bar. It seemed that the estimate quoted in court last weekend was a bit low. The total at the bottom of the list was six hundred twenty-five pounds, four shillings and ten pence.

I could cover the amount, although it would be a bit of a stretch unless I chose to risk the Sire finding out, something I was determined to avoid.

The second message was from Mr. Vaimasina, from Tillamook’s Ministry of Agriculture. Pending a final review by the lawyer chappies on both sides of our respective fences, he had a proposal ready for my signature. He closed the message by suggesting a time and place to meet.

Well, we had planned on leaving shortly after Inspector Stagg and his blushing bride departed, so I rang him up and we talked for a bit. He had an office at Tillamook’s Embassy (seems they share the building with Rain Island), and we chose tomorrow morning at ten.

After dinner and looking after Tommy (I read him a bedtime story; not sure if he understood a word of it), Willow and I went off to bed.

Willow was wearing a very nice scrap of clothing in peach silk that came off quite readily.

And I’m sure you don’t want to know anything else about that.




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