“Excuse me, but you seem to have forgotten that you're not my wife anymore, and I don't give a damn about what you will or won't stand for,” Brent shot back. “I'll tell you where you stand as of now. If you don't get that movie deal put through in the next two weeks, you don't have a job with Maxwell Enterprises! I can get myself another agent anytime I want!”

  As they talked, Kristi staggered over to them with a glass of sangria in her hand. “You rotten bastard!” she slurred. “You've got some nerve!”

  “Now, you listen to me!” Brent said. “You two think you can get by with anything because of our past relationships, but that ends now! Anyone who doesn't follow my orders and give Dawn the respect she deserves will find themselves unemployed! So you can fall in line or go pack your bags!”

  “You lousy, ungrateful son of a bitch!” Kristi screamed. She flung the contents of her glass at Brent's face, but in her drunken state she missed at splattered the sangria all over Vanessa.

  “You stupid pig!” Vanessa yelled. “You ruined my dress!”

  “It was ruined the minute you put it on,” Kristi said. “I was aiming at Brent, so quit whining! You're too old to be such a baby!”

  “Enough, you two! I'm not going to let your ruin my engagement party!” Brent roared. “I can do anything I want with my money and my business so you might as well get that through your heads!”

  I had hardly noticed with all the shouting by my table, but there was more shouting going on at the other side of the patio. Gavin was walking unsteadily towards Dawn yelling, “You dirty gold digger! If you think you can just waltz in here and steal my inheritance you have another thing coming! You're nothing but a tramp and a hooker and-”

  Brent left Vanessa and Kristi and stormed over to his son. “Shut your mouth, Gavin!” he said. “I won't put up with anyone speaking to my fiancee that way! Apologize immediately if you know what's good for you!”

  “I'll show you what's good for me!” Gavin cried, and lunged forward and swung his fist wildly at Brent, but missed by a mile and fell down on the ground.

  “Say goodbye to your allowance, you selfish brat!” Brent said. “I should have the sheriff put you in a cell next to that other wretch!”

  “Come on, Gavin,” Kristi said, helping Gavin to his feet. “Let's go inside and cool down; there's too much hot air out here.”

  Vanessa was already ahead of them, swearing under her breath as she stalked inside. “Uh, let's all simmer down, everyone!” Charlie said, holding up his hands. Then he hurried through the door after Vanessa.

  Aunt Sam came over to me and said, “I think I've had just about enough 'party' for one night. Why don't you go inside and make some coffee for everyone while I try to wrap things up out here.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” I said. I would have been glad to swim to the mainland for coffee just to get away from this so-called party.

  When I reached the kitchen door, I heard low voices in conversation. Taking a peek inside I saw Vanessa standing by the kitchen sink, trying to wipe the sangria off her dress with a wet paper towel. Charlie was standing close to her and talking quietly. I couldn't make out everything he said but I did catch the words “forensic accountant”.

  Vanessa said, “There's nothing to worry about, Charlie. I told you I'm taking care of everything.”

  “Oh, it's fine for you to act all casual about this, but I can guaran-damn-tee you that if I go down you'll go down, too!”

  “Oh, don't give yourself an ulcer. Nobody is going down. I've dealt with Brent's tantrums before, and I make sure nothing happens to you. Now relax and go back outside before he notices you're gone.”

  “You'd better be sure,” Charlie muttered as he headed toward the door. I stepped back from the door so he wouldn't know that I'd heard what they were saying, but he brushed past me hardly even noticing that I was there.

  I stood in the hall debating what to do; I didn't want to deal with Vanessa, but the sooner I made the coffee, the sooner the party would end and I could go to bed. However, I had only been there for a few seconds when a miracle occurred and Vanessa walked out of the kitchen through the other door. Okay, maybe “miracle” isn't the right word, but it seemed like one to me just then.

  I started the coffee machine and looked around for cups. I didn't know where Dodie kept them and she was out by the patio cleaning up the buffet table, so I started looking through cabinets. I finally found them on a shelf by the cupboard and started setting them out on the counter. The bottle of wine Dr. Hendrix had given me was sitting there and I picked it up to move it out of the way. Then I remembered then that he had wanted me to taste it and guess which fruit juices he had used. I don't know much about wine and I doubted I had the palette to discern the different flavors, but I figured I ought to give it a try before he left the party.

  I opened the bottle, poured a small amount into one of the coffee cups and drank. At first it didn't taste like much other than slightly sour water, but then my throat began to burn! It wasn't just heat, either; it tasted like someone had set a dead rat on fire! I rushed to the sink and stuck my mouth under the faucet, trying to suck in as much water as I could to get the hideous taste out of my mouth.

  Just then, Nick walked in with a stack of plates from the patio. “What's the matter with you?” he asked. Then he spotted the open wine bottle on the counter and said, “Oh crap! You didn't try to drink Brad's wine, did you?” He ran to the refrigerator and poured out a glass of milk. “Here, drink this,” he said. “Water won't put out that kind of fire.”

  The milk stopped the burning but I still had that awful taste in my mouth. “Pour me another,” I gasped, handing the glass to Nick. After downing the second glass I started feeling close to normal again. “What... how did... what is that stuff?”

  “Yeah, Brad's a great guy and one heck of a doctor, but his wine making is, well, I guess I don't need to tell you.” Nick held up the bottle. “What do you want me to do with the rest of your 'gift'?”

  “Pour it out before it kills someone.”

  “Good call. I'll have to pour it outside, though. Sammie poured her bottle down the drain and then the pipe under the sink started leaking, so she's convinced the nasty stuff ate through the pipe and she won't allow it to be poured out inside anymore.”

  “Well, I guess that proves that you can't make wine from fruit juice,” I said.

  “No, it proves that Brad can't make wine from fruit juice. There's a wine bar downtown that sells really great Florida wine made from fruit juice. They have key lime wine, strawberry, blueberry, kiwi, and some mixed wines like coffee and orange, which I like a lot. ”

  “Does it really taste like wine?”

  “Absolutely. You might want to try it while you're down here.”

  “As long as it's nothing like Brad's wine, I'll be glad to give it a try,” I said. “Now I've got to get this coffee out to the guests so we can close the circus for the night.”

  “Don't tell me you're not enjoying Brent's party!” Nick said with mock surprise. “I'll bet you can't get this kind of excitement in Ohio!”

  “Maybe, but I've managed to avoid it so far. So have you lived in Florida all your life?”

  “No, I'm from Massachusetts originally. I've been here long enough to lose the Bean Town accent, but not long enough to qualify as a true native.”

  “What brought you to a little island like Admiral Archibald Falls? The weather, the sea, the beaches, the falls?”

  “Well, the weather was a plus, since when I was in Massachusetts I saw enough snow to last me a lifetime,” Nick said. “The sea and the beaches are a big part of it, too; when you live in a vacation spot, when you're not working you're kinda on vacation. The falls weren't that important to me, since they don't exist.”

  “What do you mean, they don't exist?”

  “Most people think the island was named for its waterfalls, but really it was named after a British admiral named Archibald Fitzwilliam, who was sent here in the 1700's to look after British interests here. Apparently he fell off things a lot; boats, balconies, out of windows and so forth. Historians are split on whether he drank too much or was just clumsy. Obviously, the mayor doesn't like the real story behind the name to get around, so she had a stock photo of a waterfall put on the brochures in the visitor center.”

  I started pouring out the coffee into the cups. “Do you want to help me take these out to the guests?” I asked.

  “Not really, but if it'll help get this suffer-fest of a dinner party over sooner, I'll do it,” Nick said.

  Soon the coffee cups were emptied and Aunt Sam was leading Mayor Croaker, Harlan Ringo and the other guests to the front door where Brent Maxwell and Dawn were waiting to say their goodbyes while Dodie and I took the rest of the dishes to the kitchen.

  As we started washing up, Nick walked in with an empty punch bowl. “Here, you'll want to wash this, too,” he said.

  “Where's the rest of the sangria that was in the bowl?” Dodie asked.

  “It seemed a shame to waste it. Well, that's it for me; I'd say it's been fun, but my mother taught me that I shouldn't tell lies.”

  “Runnin' off when it's time to clean up, as usual,” Dodie said.

  “Hey, I'd love stay if I could! You know how much I love to wash dishes, only I've got to get up early tomorrow to take some clients out on a fishing trip. Which reminds me, I haven't had time to charge my phone tonight, what with all this party craziness. Can I charge it for a little while in your RV before I go, Teri?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Let me give you the key.”

  “Don't bother. I usually just use the one that's in the front wheel well. Sammie keeps a spare under there so she won't get locked out if she loses the key.”

  A spare key in the front wheel well! How many people besides Nick and Aunt Sam knew about it? I decided not to get upset about it since the spare key was going to be on my key ring before I went to bed tonight.

  Just then I thought of something Nick had said. “When you say you usually use the spare key, does that mean that you've rented the RV before?” I asked.

  “No, I have my own place,” Nick said. “I just crash there sometimes when it's late and I'm less than entirely sober.”

  “I see. Well, I assume you're not planning to crash there for the next two weeks while I'm living in it.”

  “Not unless I'm invited.”

  “You won't be invited.”

  “Gotcha. Peace out.”

  A few minutes after Nick left I heard the front door close, and Brent Maxwell said, “Samantha, that was a wonderful evening and I have to thank you.”

  “Was he at the same party I was?” I whispered to Dodie.

  She rolled her eyes and smiled. “That's Brent Maxwell for you! He don't mind what's goin' on as long as he's center of attention!”

  “My goodness, is that the time?” Brent continued. “We'd better turn in, Dawn, my dear. Tomorrow's another big, exciting day! Our first day as an engaged couple!”

  “Uh huh,” Dawn replied.

  Aunt Sam saw them to the stairs and then came into the kitchen. “Well, the house is still standing, so I guess we survived,” she sighed.

  “As far as I'm concerned, if they want another dinner party, they can go find a restaurant who'll put up with them,” Dodie said. She brought out a jar of white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies from under the counter and we all sat down at the kitchen table.

  “The restaurant would have to have good insurance,” I said, taking a cookie. “They act more like a wrestling troupe than a family.”

  “Yes, there's never a dull moment with Brent Maxwell's entourage,” Aunt Sam agreed. “You should have been here last year when Brent decided they should rent a boat and sail around the island together.”

  “I can imagine.”

  I heard a knock on the door frame and saw Kristi standing in the doorway. “I thought I smelled cookies,” she said. “Sammie darling, I must thank you for the party. I'm sure it wasn't easy putting it all together at such short notice, but you know how spontaneous Brent is, always full of surprises!”

  “There certainly were plenty of surprises,” Aunt Sam said.

  Kristi laughed. “Yes, it's like Brent has his own personal soap opera! I hope it wasn't too much of a headache for all of you. It really was a nice evening, and the sangria was delicious, Dodie! You'll have to give me the recipe sometime.”

  “Why don't figure it out for yourself by looking at the stains on my dress?!” came an angry voice from the hall. Vanessa walked in and stood in the doorway, hands on hips. “They won't come out! You completely ruined my dress, and I expect you to replace it!”

  “Of course, I'll replace it,” Kristi replied. “I'm sure there's a thrift shop down here somewhere that has a section for the colorblind.”

  “You have some nerve talking about my style! You're like a gray sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake!”

  “If I throw a stick, will you leave?”

  “You smart-mouthed bitch! I ought to---” Vanessa stopped, seeming to notice the rest of us for the first time. “Let's continue this discussion in private,” she said, and turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

  “Fine by me,” Kristi said, following her out.

  They went across the hall into the library and closed the door behind them. The shouting started almost immediately. “If you're going to be two-faced, at least make one of them pretty!” “Me? Your face makes onions cry!”

  “I'm going to have another cookie,” Dodie said. “I should be watching my waist but I think I deserve another one tonight.”

  “Good. I was waiting for someone else to take a second one so that I could do the same without looking greedy,” Aunt Sam said. “Go on, have another, Teri.”

  “Um... should we.... do something about that?” I asked, nodding towards the library, where the yelling was showing no signs of stopping.

  “Since you know everything, why don't you know when to shut up?!” “You've got your whole life to be an idiot; why don't you take the rest of the night off?!”

  “Oh, don't worry about them,” Aunt Sam laughed. “They can keep that up for hours! I don't expect that Brent's big announcements improved their moods any, either.”

  “I half think they like hatin' each other,” Dodie said.

  If they did, then there was a lot to like because they continued their war of words for a good fifteen minutes. Finally the library door opened and the two walked out, still sniping at each other under their breaths. Vanessa led the way into the kitchen, smiling at us as she said, “Samantha, I want to thank you again for going to such trouble to make a wonderful evening for us. The party really was lovely.”

  She gave Aunt Sam a hug and a kiss on the cheek while Kristi said, “Yes, it was wonderful, in spite of everything.”

  “I don't think we need to bring up the past any further,” Vanessa said sharply.

  “Oh, is that the time?” Kristi said, looking up at the kitchen clock. It was just after 11 pm. “That explains why the old folks are getting cranky. Let's turn in, shall we?”

  “Isn't it cute how she pretends she can tell time,” Vanessa muttered.

  They went out into the hall, but by the time they had reached the stairs the argument was already in full swing. “If you're gonna stab me in the back you might as well kiss my ass while you're back there!” “I couldn't get to your back, there's too many people jogging around you for exercise! You could make a lot of money down here selling shade!”

  Aunt Sam stood up and yawned. “Well, that should be the last of them down here,” she said. “Teri, would you mind locking up for the night? I'm ready for bed myself.”

  “Sure, I'll be glad to,” I said. I got up and started down the hall to lock the front door, but before I reached it I saw that the light was on in the living room. I looked inside and didn't see anyone, so I went to the lamp to turn it off. That's when I saw Charlie Gleason sprawled on the sofa asleep. He was clutching an empty whiskey bottle to his chest like a teddy bear.

  I shook his shoulder and called, “Mr. Gleason? Mr. Gleason!” Nothing.

  I went back to the kitchen and told Aunt Sam the situation. “Should we leave him there to sleep it off?” I asked.

  “No, not as drunk as he is. I don't want him barfing on my sofa like he did last year. Let's get him up to his room.”

  “Can I help?” asked Dodie.

  “You've done quite enough already,” said Aunt Sam. “Teri and I can manage this.”

  We did, but it wasn't easy. First we had to get Charlie to wake up and then to get into something like a sitting position. “Whu- whuss going on?” Charlie asked, looking from one of us to the other.

  “We need to get you upstairs, “ I said.

  The confused look on Charlie's face turned into a leer. “Are you inviting me to your room, little lady?” he asked.

  “No, I'm inviting you to go to your own room and sleep it off. Come on, we're going to help you up the stairs.”

  It took almost 20 minutes to half drag a stumbling Charlie up the stairs and down the hall to his room with him objecting and saying, “I need just a little drinkie first” about every other step. When we finally got him inside his room and closed the door after him we heard a loud crash and then Charlie's slurred voice saying, “Damned stupid table!”

  “Well, that was fun,” I said. From across the hall I could hear Gavin snoring and mumbling in his sleep. “Sounds like we don't have to worry about Gavin, at least.”

  Aunt Sam yawned. “I believe I've had enough Maxwell circus for one night. Now I really am going to bed.”

  But it was not to be. Dawn came out of her room just then and saw us. “Oh hey,” she called.

  “Is there anything we can help you with, Dawn?” asked Aunt Sam.

  “Yes, I'm looking for the ladies room.”

  “Ladies' room? Your room has its own bathroom. Is there something wrong with it?”

  “I can't get the door to open,” Dawn said. “It's locked or stuck or something.”

  “I'll be happy to take a look at it,” I offered. Aunt Sam gave me a grateful look and escaped off to bed while I followed Dawn back to her room.