Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #134
…Harv did not intend to ambush the poor woman, down-playing the magnitude of his party, but he has long ago learned that name-dropping is a tool of the weak…
“Are you hungry?” Harv Pearson asks out of the blue, his own stomach reminding him with empty rumblings and the promise of a gourmet offering to impress his newfound acquaintance. “If you are, I have been ignoring my friends and I am sure you would be a welcome addition.” She does not respond immediately. “It’s just a little buffet, not a big deal.”
Judith Eastman lowers any remaining barriers to getting to know this man of the South. “Let me freshen my face in the ladies room. Would you watch my gear?”
“We’ll be right outside here,” Harv promises, “your camera and I that is.”
Inside the vacant confines of the washroom, Judith is dismayed, “I’m a wreck.” It is true that the day has taken its toll, but it takes but a twirl and tuck of her lengthy dark hair, with a tweak and lift of the bodice of her shirtwaist, hiking up her floor-length skirt. After applying a coat of red lipstick, somewhat bold for the times, but very much Judith, she nervously concludes, “Okay, take a deep breath. You’re not a schoolgirl anymore.”
Her attentive attendant stands at his watch, alerted by the clicking of her narrow heeled shoes. “Let’s go!”
Small talk occupies the short walk to the private banquet room. Harv manages the double doors even with his arms holding fast to Judith’s fragile apparatus… and her camera too.
He did not intend to ambush the poor woman, down-playing the magnitude of his party, but he has long ago learned that name-dropping is a tool of the weak. When she understands the room’s full scope, she comments, “Threescore of your closest friends and banquet worthy of Henry the Eighth! Some buffet, you rascal!”
“These are not all my friends, only those twelve over there,” pointing to the head table.
“That is William McKinley! George met him once, a great man he tells me and George is stingy with his compliments of politicians, particularly Republicans who are speaking of anti-trust.”
“He is indeed great,” sidestepping politics, he takes her to the table, “and a good friend of our very own Herbert Love, Secretary of Agriculture,” he puts both hands on Love’s shoulders.
“I hope you will welcome, Miss Judith Eastman. We met down the hall and I extended her our hospitality.”
“By all means,” William McKinley beckons heartily. “You must be the sister George Eastman speaks so highly of. You must capture me with your magical box, before the evening grows late.”