Claire thought Aunt Delia would just drop the gifts on the table, exchange a few words for a while and leave. She didn’t think the woman would put on a whole performance.
"This one, for those who are not tapped into the luxury bag world is a Kermis Kelly--retail price, thirty-six thousand dollars!" Delia announced, holding the bag in front of her chest like a priest with a chalice. Her voice carried through the house, bouncing off the walls. "Trent imported it directly from Paris. It’s the finest snake skin."
Lemon, perched smugly beside her mother chimed in: "Speaking of Paris, my boyfriend just launched his own business. Perfumes and wine, imported from Paris. He will be a billionaire in no time. Like one year, max!"
As someone who had built a business from close to the ground up, Claire had some questions. But she kept them to herself. All she knew was that unless Lemon’s boyfriend was the heir to a super-rich family, he would not become a billionaire in a year from simply importing perfumes and wines.
Wilder snorted so loudly the teacups nearly rattled. "Billionaire in one year my ass. Every time you come by you mention some business that he has started and how he will make it big. It has been three years, and he is nowhere near millionaire status. That boy couldn’t sell water in a desert. He has got the face of a goat and the brains of a boiled potato."
Claire and her parents erupted in muffled laughter. Donovan decided it was safer to stay in the kitchen--far away from the shots that his wife would surely keep firing.
Delia, ignoring the look of grievance in her daughter’s eyes, continued on. "And this my loves, is a Rumi Classic Flap--retail price, eighty thousand dollars!" She swung the bag like a pendulum, nearly knocking over a cup. "The chain is gold, 99% pure. The leather is lambskin. A true investment piece."
Claire raised her brows. She was sure it was ordinary leather from a cow. Only three Rumi Classic Flaps existed in the world. It was very unlikely that one had made its way into Delia Clinton’s hands! She was not rich enough to afford the original bag.
Lemon leaned forward, eyes shining. "My boyfriend is very serious this time. He says he will expand into olive oil next. He’s already talking partnerships with Italian suppliers."
Wilder barked: "Olive oil? Ha! Around here, we sell it for five dollars a bottle. I know a few companies that buy from us and slap on fake Italian labels. The market is oversaturated. The only partner your boyfriend is going to get is bankruptcy court. If you marry that boy, you won’t be able to afford diapers when you get to my age."
Claire’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. Much as her grandmother’s words could be perceived as harsh, the old woman was not telling a lie. The olive oil market was oversaturated. Lemon’s boyfriend could only make money from it if he had an extraordinary product. But she was not about to add her opinion because Lemon’s face was tightening the way someone’s face did before splashing water or coffee on another’s face in a television drama.
Delia raised her voice. "Now, this beauty is the MV Capucines--retail price, nine thousand dollars!" she declared, her voice rising like a trumpet. "Hand stitched, limited edition. I bought it because it reminded me of my youth."
"You spent your youth on a fishing boat, how does that tiny pink bag remind you of it!?" Donna exclaimed.
Lemon sighed dreamily. "My boyfriend says he’ll hire staff soon. He’s already interviewing candidates. Claire, maybe you should apply. If you stay here any longer, the stench of fish will permanently rub off on you."
Wilder slammed her teacup down. "Stench of fish! What’s wrong with the stench of fish? Your grandfather and I raised your mother through fishing. If we had known she would turn out to be a snob who would raise another snob, we would have fed her to sharks! Don’t involve Claire in your boyfriend’s mess. If that boy hires anyone, it will be debt collectors."
The laughter which followed was no longer muffled. Victor chuckled openly, Donna covered her mouth, and even Benjamin snorted into his glass.
Delia’s cheeks flushed crimson. "Mom, why aren’t you focusing on me? I bought you this beautiful scarf from Milan. It cost me two thousand dollars. I bet none of your friends own anything worth this much." she shouted, waving the scarf like it was a flag. "This is art mom, not clothing. When you wear it out, everyone will envy you."
As if not to be outdone by her mother, Lemon piped up again: "My boyfriend says he will open an office downtown in Fallon. So close to the central business district. He wants a view of the skyline."
Claire’s mouth opened slightly, while her eyes became rounder in horror. "Does he know the price of rent around there? Any business that is just starting out has no reason to be there unless you have rent money to burn!"
Wilder leaned back, eyes gleaming. "See that Lemon, your cousin knows what it takes to build a business and she thinks it’s a bad idea. He will be lucky to rent a broom closet. One day, that boy’s office will be a cardboard box under the bridge.
One minute it’s perfume, then wine, olive oil and now a Skyline view office! Putting too much on the plate is how you end up with diarrhea. And you Delia, unless you want me to strangle myself with that art, take it back where you bought it or keep it to yourself. We wouldn’t want it to smell like fish."
The laughter grew louder, spilling out the door. Lemon looked wounded but still clung to her boyfriend’s imaginary empire. Delia, however, was trembling with rage.
Lemon, undeterred, added: "Grandma, have faith in my boyfriend. He said he will buy me a car soon. Something European. Claire, I heard you are Apollo Ashford’s latest girlfriend. Has he bought you a car? You know, Apollo’s girlfriends never last long. He will dump you within two months...or one. Make sure that you at least get a car and some bags from him before then."
Claire rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to correct the false narrative.
Wilder cackled, raising her hand to stop Claire from answering Lemon’s question or responding to the rest of the comments. "European? The only car he will buy you is a wheelbarrow. And you will be pushing it yourself, sweetheart."
The laughter was uncontrollable. Claire rolled onto her side, clutching her stomach. Victor wiped tears from his eyes. Even Paddy barked, as if joining in.