Kristy tried not to look amused as Karen did her very best impression of Watson's I’m Seriously Displeased face.
“Kristy,” Karen said sternly. “You are late.”
“I'm sorry,” Kristy apologised humbly. “I would have been on time, if my earlier attire had been considered appropriate. I’m usually very punctual.”
Karen pressed the empty fingertip of an oversized white glove against her chin as she thought, her eyes critically running over the green blouse Kristy had pulled out of the closet for the occasion of Ladies' Lunch Day.
“I suppose what you are wearing now will have to do,” she sighed eventually. “But it is not very glamorous, Kristin.”
“I don't have many glamorous clothes,” Kristy answered.
Karen caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and spun to the doorway. “David Michael!” she barked. “This is a Ladies' Lunch. No boys allowed!”
David Michael lingered only long enough to send a sulky glare in Karen's direction before he disappeared again, mumbling to himself about unfairness and sandwiches.
Kristy glanced down to the cucumber sandwiches on the plate in front of her and just barely resisted wrinkling her nose. “How are the sandwiches?” she asked, hoping Karen would take the first bite and declare them unsuitable for consumption.
Unfortunately, Karen's gloves smothered her fingers completely and rendered her hands rather useless. She soon gave up on picking up a sandwich.
“The guest should always eat first,” she said, motioning graciously to Kristy.
Kristy figured cucumber sandwiches couldn't be any worse than what they served up at SMS, and so she took a delicate bite from the corner of the nearest one. “Hm,” she said, hoping she sounded more appreciative than grossed out.
“I made them myself,” Karen said, watching Kristy munch her way through a particularly thick slice of cucumber.
“They're delicious,” Kristy lied around a mouthful of soggy bread. “Have some.”
“Kristy,” Karen said, once again in a disapproving tone, “it is very rude to talk with your mouth full.”
“Sorry,” Kristy apologised, before she'd even thought about swallowing.
“And you should not put your elbows on the table.”
“Sorry,” Kristy said again. She watched Karen floundering inside her gloves for a moment. “Why don't you take your gloves off for lunch, Karen?”
Karen gave a dramatic sigh. “I suppose ,” she said. She removed her gloves by rapidly flapping her arms, her eagerness to try her cucumber sandwiches apparently overwhelming her desire to stay ladylike. “I must say,” she said rather breathlessly, in an obvious imitation of some adult, somewhere. “I am glad you could join me for a Ladies' Lunch, Kristin.”
“Oh, me too.” Kristy swallowed the rest of her sandwich with a hefty gulp of purple grape juice, which made her eyes water.
Sam poked his head around the door. “I hope you're drinking with your pinky up, Kristin.”
Kristy glared at him. “Sam...”
“This is a Ladies' Lunch!” Karen cried, all dignity forgotten. She slid off her chair and clopped to the door in an old pair of high heels that had once belonged to Elizabeth. “No boys!”
“You look lovely, Karen,” Sam said, in a way of apologising. “I think Kristy could be a little more dressed up though.”
“Sam!” Kristy barked.
Sam laughed and disappeared. Karen pushed the door closed behind him, a long string of fake pearls swinging from her neck as she moved.
“Boys,” Karen said, widening her eyes at Kristy. “There is a reason I made this a Ladies' Lunch.”
“A very good reason,” Kristy replied understandingly. She glanced to the rest of the cucumber sandwiches. “Er, Karen? How about we make the next Ladies' Lunch a Ladies' High Tea instead? Then we can serve cake and cookies and stuff.”
Karen's eyes positively bulged. “Oh,” she gushed, clutching her pearls in her hands. “A high tea sounds positively divine, Kristin.” She clopped back to the table and pulled her gloves back on. “We should start making plans for this immediately.”