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I’m Running The Show, Dear

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“Are you really divorcing George?” Blanche Morton asked Gracie, sitting beside her inside the backseat of a taxi. “Who could ever imagine?”

“No need to—this is real, Blanche, dear,” Gracie answered. “I’ve put my foot down with George and his flirty affairs. See?” She did a little demonstration by stamping her toe heel shoe hard. She was holding onto her purse on top of her lap, sitting up tall and straight.

“What does your son have to say about all this?” Blanche kept going. “Poor fella.”

“Ronnie has not spoken a word to his father, or to me, I’m afraid,” Gracie sighed. “He loves us, but he loves living his own life with his own dreams!”

“How terrible,” Blanche tsked.

Gracie turned to peer out the window on her side of the cab. “At least,” she mumbled.

“At least ‘what’ honey?” Blanche pressed on.

“At least I have you,” Gracie finished off. She stretched her hand out to grab and cover Blanche’s.

“Oh honey,” Blanche cooed. She flipped her hand over to entwine her fingers through Gracie’s.

George was already seated in a chair across from his lawyer he shared with his ex-wife when Gracie arrived to sign the divorce papers. Blanche was left behind waiting down the hallway.

“Hello, Gracie,” George greeted, stiff and short. He actually got up to pull a chair out for her to sit down.

“We can began the process once everyone’s settled,” the lawyer spoke softly.

“I wanna sign right now!” Gracie exclaimed, her blue and green eyes twinkled like jewels.

George looked at her with sheer guilt and hurt, grabbing for his necktie. “Wouldn’t you want to think, first, Gracie?”

“Nah,” she shook her head fast, causing laughter from the recording audience.

The lawyer seemed uncomfortable in the awkward exchange. He shrugged and started picking up stacks of papers. George rested his chin on the palm of his hand, while Gracie started looking around for a pen.

The next scene presented Blanche staring at a painting on the wall with her jacket and purse in the courthouse hallway. She whirled around the second Gracie approached her with a big, zany smile on her face.

“Well? Did you sign them?” Blanche questioned.

“Sign what?” Gracie looked confused.

“The divorce papers, darling!”

“Oh that,” Gracie said, remembering. “Yes, I signed them.”

“How did George take it?”

“Not very well. He cried right in front of me and the lawyer. He kept promising us to never look at another dish again!”

“That’s what they all say,” Blanche snorted.

“Well, I told George that our dishware’s got nothing to do with it,” Gracie responded carefully, getting another round of taped laughter. “His fancy on other women is the problem!”

Blanche shook her head at Gracie’s silliness and then opened her arm out to give her a hug.