By Special Guest Author Susan Bailey and T. MaskedWriter
***
"I'll see you at the weighing-in, when your life sum total's made.
And you set your wealth in godly deeds against the sins you've laid.
So you place your final burden on your hard-pressed next-of-kin.
Send the chamber pot back down the line to be filled up again.
Take your mind off your election
and try to get it straight.
And don't pretend perfection;
you'll be crucified too late."
-Jethro Tull, "
Lick Your Fingers Clean
"
It can be embarrassing picking out exactly the right outfit for a special occasion, then when you arrive, finding out that another woman is wearing the same thing. For both of them. Unless one of those women is Contessa Helena de San Finzione (Or, at least, a cleverly disguised Rita Delvecchio.), who made her grand entrance several minutes earlier, and the other is Lucinda de San Finzione, who just followed her wearing the same dress. In THAT case, La Contessa is the "visionary trendsetter," and Lucinda is just the follower.
Lucinda was trying to recover, glad-handing the people whom she'd probably just seen at the office an hour or two earlier. That gave me a moment to turn back to "Helen" and give her a little wink. I looked around and made certain that the boys weren't in earshot, and neither was Lucinda. I channeled my drunkenness from the night before to pretend to stumble into Helen. I raised my voice just enough to be heard over party chatter, trying to slip the command into normal conversation.
"Oh, my goodness, Helen!" I said in Italian, making sure she hadn't spilled her drink on herself. Luckily, Rita knew it was coming and was enough of a pro to recognize that the moment wasn't right for a pratfall, so she managed not to. She followed my lead to laugh it off as I put my arm around her. "I am so sorry!" I said, before giving the command. "This is my good friend, Contessa Helena de San Finzione, everyone!"
It wasn't the perfect solution. I'd have to come up with an excuse to do something like that a couple more times, say it to a few of them face-to-face; but a large enough group near us now, if Rita's performance thus far hadn't convinced them, deeply understood that Rita was Helen. We'd opened up the buffet before Lucinda showed up as well, to be sure they'd be more concerned with filling their plates than turning their heads for her entrance.
That same effect, putting their brains into "consume mode," meant that I didn't have to command the entire room at once like I'd thought. Rita looked like Helen and she was feeding them and giving them booze; they weren't going to question it. The smart ones who might have been a worry in that department were home by now, probably telling their individual families about "some stupid thing Lucinda tried to rope us all into after work this evening."
A microphone with a podium had been set up for Helen to give a speech. I could have gone up to it, tried to test myself; see if I had Helen's level of power and control to issue a command to everyone except My People on that large a scale. But I still didn't know what Lucinda knew about The Thing. If she's after proof, I'd not only be giving it to her, but letting her know that others besides Helen can do it. I don't think she knew that Troy & Julie could, but if she suspected Helen, and I gave her the "demonstration" Helen's enemies always want, they'd only follow logically. Thinking Lucinda had only one objective tonight would be a mistake.
I came up with my own solution to the "how to control the room like Helen" problem by remembering the main lesson I'd learned today; that I am not Helen and shouldn't try to be. I DON'T have the kind of cagey criminal mind needed to keep three steps ahead of the world's worst lowlifes, so I need to stop pretending that I do and have my incredibly weird one, instead. Someone in the room was already trying to be Helen. And Rita was crushing her at it. I could see nothing to be gained and a whole lot to be lost by making that move, so I didn't. Instead, I gave Rita another signal to start making her way to the microphone. Once she did, I moved to intercept Lucinda.
* * *
"Lucy, dear!" I said with a smile as I blindsided her from the crowd. Hey, I've told the bitch she can call me Sue, let's see how she like Lucy. "I thought you'd never make it."
"Lucinda." She immediately let me know that she didn't. "Of La Familia de San Finzione," she continued in Italian. "Founding familia of the Sovereign County and Independent Nation-State of San Finzione. Remind me, Susan, dear. What are the Baileys known for again?"
"Irish Cream." I responded in the same tongue. "Also a song about a guy who got out of a bad relationship and needs to tell the singer who keeps promising him the world to come back to fuck off, because people like her never learn anything. We didn't feel the need to put our name on everything. There's also a porn actress whom I'm told I kind of look like that uses the name; but if she's any relation, my parents didn't tell me before they died."
"Why, I'm so sorry." Lucinda said in a tone that made it clear that she wasn't. "I was unaware you were an orphan. It must be horrible not knowing where you are from."
"It can be hard." I answered. "Having no storied family history of great achievements that I personally had nothing to do with to take undue pride in forces me to make my own."
"I'm certain you're used to having to make your own things in this world."
"Well," I replied with a sweet smile. "Not all of us can just look at what Helen does and copy her, Lucinda."
"Yes, a nice one there." Lucinda acknowledged. "If that were truly La Contessa and not the actress she pays to fill in for her at events, it would have been more embarrassing."
"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Lucinda." I lied. I figured it was time to start doing that with her.
"We both know that La Contessa is in Paris, fucking and sucking that Greek pimp and his other whore? Did you truly think the ruler of San Finzione could vanish for a month and no one would notice? Of course I knew. Why do you think this is all happening tonight?"
"The only reason I can think that your mind might make that paranoid leap, Lucinda, is that you were hoping that if Helen DOES have a double, and that's not an admission of anything; the double wouldn't have known better than to accept the poisoned apple you've brought for the twins. Or to refuse in a way that you can use to score points with your church group. On that note, and in case you thought I missed the 'other whore' dig back there; I have more respect for a woman who goes down on her knees in an alley for money than I do for one who does the same in church for the sake of being seen doing it."
Lucinda gave a smile at that, opened her purse, and produced a sealed envelope wrapped with a red ribbon.
"My concern is the future of San Finzione. For the souls of the heirs and the nation!"
"Based on how you've fucked up having one of your own, Lucinda, I'm not letting you anywhere near theirs." The crowd started murmuring and turning toward the podium. "Now if you'll excuse me, Lucinda, a CONTESSA is about to speak."
"Evening, everyone. I see some of you have found the bar already." She said, looking out at La Familia. "I know we're pressed for time tonight, so the chefs are bringing the dessert trolleys out now. I haven't seen many of you since before the boys were born, and I know how grateful most of you are for that fact." She gave a pause. There was a nervous laugh in the crowd. She accepted it and moved on.
"And, of course, I have to thank dear Lucinda for orchestrating all of this. It was her insistence that made this whole evening possible. Let's hear it for Lucinda de San Finzione, everyone!"
Some applauded as they looked for Lucinda. Most were carrying plates or seated at the tables, so settled for tapping silverware against glasses or dishes. I looked over at the gift table, which was about a third full. Large stuffed animals stood over toys that they wouldn't be ready to play with for years. A little battery-operated kids' car was parked in front of the table. Someone had given the twins a pair of cork guns. Did anyone even MAKE cork guns anymore? Or had someone gone home and grabbed an old toy off a shelf or from a box in the attic? The presence of a dusty