Fantasy Friday - Kat and Natalie Meet Cassie

What a great LOL Day we had! I enjoy that every year.  I sure hope that some of the lurkers enjoyed themselves so much that they will keep coming back and talking to us.

I'm so happy to be able to give you a brand new Fantasy Friday, even if it is a day late.  If you try writing a story you may be surprised a how well you get to know your characters, especially if you continue to write them.  That's what happened to Ana, of Governingana, as she has written about Kat and Natalie.  Ana is a wonderful writer!  She has two book coming our very soon, and Kat Sitting is about these two lovely ladies.  

She wrote me maybe two months ago about the possibility of having Kat and Natalie meet Cassie. After taking a minute to get used to the idea and the exchange of many, many emails later Ana sent me the finished product. I'm hoping that both fans or Kat and Natalie as well as Cassie's readers will enjoy their day together.  We all - Ana, Kat, Natalie, Cassie and I hope you enjoy...

Kat and Natalie Meet Cassie

Smack!

            I jerk awake as Natalie throws back the luxurious bedcovers, sits down on my luxurious bed, and pulls me across her not-so-luxurious lap.

            Smack!

            “NATTY!  When are we going to break you of this stupid habit of waking me up with a spanking?  Some people do say good morning, you know.”

            I glare and huff at the luxurious plush green carpet next to the luxurious mahogany nightstand in our luxurious room.  It’s the first time I’ve ever been treated to such comfort, and I don’t intend to spend one second of it in any kind of un-luxurious discomfort!  Natalie, however, doesn’t worry herself about my intentions.

            Smack!

            “Nattyyyy…” I whine.  I almost ask what I did, but I have learned that nothing good can come from that question. 

            Natalie pats my bottom gently and continues to spank as she talks.  I’m not sure why she thinks this helps me concentrate.  Let me tell you that it absolutely does not. 

            “How do you feel about meeting Cassie today?”

            Oh, that.  The twinges in my stomach come back.  My bottom tingles, not from her spanking but from the memory of spankings past.  It took no fewer than four spankings to get permission for today.  One for finding Cassie’s blog and writing to her using my real name without Natalie’s permission, one for shouting at Natalie after she made me initially refuse Cassie’s invitation to meet while we visited nearby for Natalie’s conference, and well…perhaps it is better not to mention the other two.  Let’s just say they hurt.  A lot.  It was a painfully earned privilege to finally meet someone else who lived a lifestyle like Natalie and me, and still Natalie threatened to cancel if Cassie so much as sneezed dangerously.

            We arrived at the hotel Friday evening and instead of being checked in, we were asked to wait.  A few minutes later, the manager of the hotel came out to greet us.  She informed us that, as friends of Cassie and Tom Duff, we had been upgraded to the VIP suite, and she personally escorted us to the most lavish set of rooms I have ever seen.  (Not that I have stayed in many hotels…)  The bellhop refused to accept Natalie’s tip.  A basket of fruit sat on the table and flowers brightened the stand by our beds.  Next to the fruit were complimentary passes to the local horse-drawn carriage tours and tugboat cruises.  The manager not only provided a tourist guide map but also sat down with both of us to give suggestions for my two days of sightseeing before meeting Cassie on Monday. 

            It would be hard to say who was more surprised, Natalie or I.  When I went out on Saturday and Sunday while Natalie was busy with her sessions, I found that all I had to do while browsing shops or walking down streets was to ask, “Do you know Cassie Duff?” to be greeted with smiles and nods.  One older gentleman told me, “I figure this town wouldn’t be what it was if it weren’t for Cassie and Tom.”   

            Smack!

            “I said, how do you feel about meeting Cassie today?”

            “Ouch!” I protest.  I hesitate between saying how I really feel and what will reassure her into giving permission for the day.  All that work to get Natalie to finally say yes!  I’m not going to back out now.  But my stomach hurts just thinking about it…

            “The truth please, Kat.”

            I wriggle, my face blushing.  How does she always know? 

            “I don’t know,” I admit.

            “Do you want to cancel?”

            “No, no!  I just…”

            Natalie shakes out her hand, complaining of the sting.  She picks up the wooden spoon she insisted on packing despite my vehement protests, and she encourages me to finish my answer.

            “Ow ow ow!!  Owww!”  I yelp, trying to twist out of reach.  “I just feel kind of funny,” I admit.

            Mercifully, she sets the spoon aside and rubs my bottom instead.  “The way you always get nervous meeting someone new?  Or something else?”

            Now that the fire in my bottom has subsided to a soothing warmth, it is easier to think.  “I didn’t know she was so rich,” I say with embarrassment.

            “Does that matter?”  Natalie’s family is hardly poor, but they don’t command respect from an entire town. 

            “Well maybe she won’t want to talk to me, I don’t know.  And what if she doesn’t like me?  What if she’s scary?”

            Natalie’s hand has returned to little spanks.  “It’s good to be cautious.  Everyone can say what they like on the internet.  We’ve agreed on a safety plan, and as long as you are safe it’s okay if you don’t like each other.  You can come back early or go around on your own.”

            I nod.  Natalie’s even insisted that I wear sneakers and comfortable clothes today just in case I need to run anywhere.  We both worry, just in different ways. 

            Just as I am starting to relax across Natalie’s lap, I feel the spoon against my bottom again.  I groan.

            “To remind you to check in every hour the way we promised,” she says, tapping lightly, “I want you to go down to breakfast with a little reminder.  Ready?”

            I’m not, but I know better than to say so.  “Yes.”

            By the time Natalie’s finishing giving me her “reminder”, I have just enough time to wash and get ready for my big day.  Natalie is crisp-perfect from head to toe in a brand-new grey suit accented with a vivid scarlet blouse.  She’s completed the look with a little wispy scarlet scarf tied around her neck and her briefcase, as always, at her side.

            “Ready?” she says to me again.  I feel frumpy and underdressed in my sensible sneakers, khakis, pink sweater, and my windbreaker under my arm.  Purse with cell phone, charger, emergency cash, emergency contact numbers, map of the town and business card of the hotel, emergency granola bar and water bottle, and everything else Natalie made me pack.  At least she didn’t insist on a life jacket. 

            “Ready,” I answer. 

            She gives my sore bottom a pat as we sail out of our gorgeous suite and down to the gorgeous signature hotel restaurant for breakfast.  The maitre d’ recognizes us by sight and immediately escorts us to a private alcove where there sits a petite lady with perfectly coiffed white-and-gold hair.  What seems to be a golden brown jacket is swathed in a patterned red scarf so soft-looking that I want to touch it.  Her eyes are twinkly, and she gives us a smile that reminds me a little of Natalie’s mom.  Even so, I hide behind Natalie.  This isn’t just any ordinary new person but someone to whom I’ve poured out secrets I’ve never even told Natalie.  She knows I get spanked!  She knows I threw such a colossal, plate-smashing tantrum when Natalie initially said “no” to our meeting that Natalie not only spanked me but threatened to take away my email privileges altogether.  I am blushing so profusely that I can’t even stammer out a greeting as I lower myself very carefully onto my chair.  Even with the padding on the chair, it’s still tender to sit.   I don’t dare look up to see whether anyone has noticed.  The worst thing is that Cassie will know exactly why.  My face feels even hotter just at the idea.  Does she wonder whether I’ve been naughty?  Will she ask me?  I have a wild urge to get up and dash back to the safety of our posh room, but Natalie nudges me.  I jump at her touch.

            “Isn’t that right, Kat?”

            I have no idea what Natalie has been saying or how Cassie has been responding.  Did I really call this terrifyingly elegant lady by her first name?  People like her don’t talk to people like me!

            “Yes,” I whisper, not looking up.  Plates of gorgeously arranged fruit and crepes have mysteriously appeared on the table.  Ordinarily my mouth would water at the soft, juicy squares of fruit arranged in a rainbow of bright colors, but the sight of food makes my stomach churn.  Despite the six weeks of anticipation, I’d really rather be at home in our simple kitchen with the table that has a little crack on one leg from when we dropped it moving it from one side of the room to the other. 

            “I hope you’ve been treated well here?”

            Cassie’s gentle southern drawl is reassuringly down-to-earth, but it still takes another nudge from Natalie for me to whisper, “Oh, yes!”  After my silence, Natalie praises the hotel staff, especially our wonderful welcome by the manager. 

            “…and I had a little time yesterday so we went on the carriage tour with Kat.  What a lovely town…”

            That had been fun.  I relax a bit, remembering snuggling next to Natalie in the chilly evening air. 

            “The carriage driver liked you,” I volunteer.  He told us that the entire park we drove through had been Cassie and Tom’s pet project.  It was even going to be named after them, but Tom said no.  Said it belonged to everyone, not just them.

            “I bet it was Bert, an older gentleman with that red cap he always wears?  He’s the sweetest thing.”

            “Mm,” I say articulately.  This time I am feeling braver, and instead of looking at my nearly full plate I look at Cassie’s neatly arranged one.  Not a drip or a mess anywhere. 

            It’s after the meal, though, that things get uncomfortable.  Natalie politely but firmly insists on questioning Cassie about our itinerary, phone number for places we will visit, and a time for us to meet for lunch.  Cassie graciously answers all of Natalie’s questions, but after Natalie writes down the make of Cassie’s car—she has a BMW!!—and license plate number Cassie sets down her empty juice glass in front of Natalie.

            “There dear, now you have my fingerprints if you would like to run them.”  Her tone is light, but there is a note of exasperation underneath.

            “But I couldn’t—“ Natalie breaks off as she realizes that Cassie is teasing her.  It is her turn to blush.  I kick Natalie’s ankle and whisper fiercely to her.

            “Stop embarrassing me!  You’re being ridiculous!”  Natalie starts to speak sharply to me, but Cassie interrupts her. 

            “Natalie, you are more than welcome to join us if you are going to worry so.  Tom’s a worrier, too, but eventually you have to take a leap of faith.” 

            I silently telegraph Thank you! to Cassie as I look up at her for the first time.  The little quirk of her lips and ever-so-slight shrug of her shoulders make the butterflies in my stomach settle down just a little.  There are advantages to having a friend who is older than Natalie and isn’t afraid to speak plainly to her.  Plus, Cassie stepping in saved me from saying anything worse.  The very last thing I need right now is to get myself in trouble and make Natalie say I can’t go.

            Between the VIP treatment and Cassie’s tact, it’s no contest which one I appreciate more. 

            Natalie recovers her dignity by insisting on picking up the check despite Cassie’s protest of “Girls, you’ve had to travel so far to get here.  Please let me take care of breakfast.”  Reminds me, in front of Cassie, to text every hour on the hour and to be back exactly at noon.  That she will be calling the police if I don’t follow through.  I say a few heated things under my breath, and her eyes tell me that we will be having a “talk” about this later.  But it’s not my fault!

            By the time Cassie takes my arm and gently but firmly leads me to her car, I am more than glad to go.  Helicopter moms?  If there is such a thing as a helicopter partner, Natalie sure is it.  She hasn’t gone this far overboard since my first day out of the hospital many months ago. 

           

            As I buckle myself into the front seat of Cassie’s fancy car, I mutter, “Sorry about that.”  Cassie gives a big, rolling laugh.

            “Mighty protective of you, isn’t she?”  She settles herself into the driver’s seat and starts the car.  “And I thought my Tom was bad.”

            That reminds me I’ve never asked her.  “Is he okay with you coming today?”

            Cassie smiles.  “He knows I came into town to meet with friends.  Don’t worry about it.  Where should we go first?”

            I stammer that I don’t want to be any trouble.  After a few moments of listening to my confused babble, Cassie pulls out of the drive and puts on her turn signal.

            “Been to Tryon Palace yet?” she asks.

            “No ma’am,” I answer.  “I mostly stayed by the hotel.”

            “Oh, please don’t call me ma’am,” Cassie says.  “That’s even worse than Mrs. Duff!”

            I giggle because I didn’t even noticed saying it.  A nervous habit from childhood, I guess.  I was never allowed to call grown-ups by their first names when I was younger, and when I get nervous I forget that I am technically a grown-up myself now. 

            “Sorry, Mrs. Duff ma’am,” I say, and Cassie glances over at me before shaking her head. 

            “All right, Miss Astra young lady, Tryon Palace is where I always like to take visitors.  It’s the governor’s palace from way back in the 1700s, and there is a garden and grounds and historical charm.  Does that sound okay with you?”

            I giggle again, this time by being called those names.  “Sure,” I say.  “That sounds fun.  But please don’t call me Miss Astra or young lady.  Then I feel like a schoolgirl in trouble with my headmistress.”

            “And if you call me Mrs. Duff ma’am, it sounds like you’re a servant asking for my mother-in-law.  I thought we agreed on Cassie.”

            She makes a good point.  She’s just so…not different, exactly, but real sitting next to me.  I think back to all the letters I sent her and wonder uncomfortably which embarrassing parts she might remember. 

            “Okay.  At least you didn’t call me Katastrophe.”

            Cassie laughs.  “That certainly is a funny nickname, isn’t it?  I loved the story of how your friends gave it to you.  Kat Astra.  Kat-Astraphe.  Natalie treats you as if you’re a catastrophe waiting to happen, doesn’t she?”

            I feel the warmth creeping into my cheeks.  Cassie’s voice is kind, but I think of all the catastrophes that I did write to her about and the way Natalie went on at breakfast as if I were going to cause a catastrophe of my own today.  I struggle to find something polite to say in response, but thankfully Cassie pulls up at a lovely set of buildings and grounds.  The leaves are in full autumn color, and as we walk under the trees I can almost taste the slightly-burnt bonfire scent. 

            At the information desk, we are greeted warmly.  Or, rather, Cassie is.

            “Cassie!  How wonderful to see you!  There’s a phone call for you, a message about the friend you’re bringing with you?”

            My stomach sinks, knowing what the message is even before the information guide says it.

            “Kathy, is it?  There’s a Natalie who wants us to call her once you arrive.  Should I do that now?”

            I wish I had a mask to hide the constant state of blushing my face finds it in today.  Why didn’t she call me?  And why is she calling in the middle of her conference, anyway?  Cassie just agrees pleasantly and walks with me through the buildings and around the landscaped gardens.  Every time Cassie starts to ask a question I tense up, but instead she pulls out pictures of her family.

            “There’s my son Ryan,” she says, only instead of saying it she nearly sings it out in a shout of pride.  “My Ryan,” she says, as if he belongs to no one in the world but her.  “And there’s his fiancé Allie, and my husband Tom, and my good friend Sue.  She’s the one I go to the Bahamas with most winters.”

            I smile and nod and examine each picture that she hands to me.  “They seem lovely,” I say.  I wish I had photos to show her, too, but Natalie and I aren’t really picture people.  I’m not even sure if I have any good ones of Mom and Dad. 

            Cassie breaks off her recital and starts to say something, but then she stops herself.  “Have you texted Natalie like you were supposed to?”

            “Oh my gosh!  Oh no!”  Frantically, I dive for my phone and see that it’s just past the hour.  “At Tryon,” I text.  “Everything fine.”

            Within a few seconds, my phone rings.  My heart is in my mouth as I answer.

            “Natty I’m so sorry I didn’t message sooner, but I—“

            “Look, Kat, I’m sorry but I’ve got a potential client, maybe a partner as well, who wants to have lunch.  I know we said to do lunch together, but I won’t be able to get away.  Do you mind?”

            Cassie has moved just far enough away to pretend to be out of earshot, but she is still giving me slightly concerned looks every now and then.  I put my hand over the phone and say, “Natalie can’t come to lunch.  Is that okay?”

            Cassie smiles and nods.  “Sure!” I say to Natalie.  “Then maybe I can get in a word edgewise without you clucking and hovering for once…”

            Natalie laughs, reminds me we’re going to talk once I get back, and tells me to be good.  I hang up the phone and grin at Cassie.

            “I’m free!  No Natalie for lunch!” I exclaim.  Then I feel bad saying it.  Cassie seems to understand, though.

            “Sometimes it feels like having a warden, doesn’t it?”

            I laugh, but guiltily.  Cassie pats my shoulder.  “It’s okay not to like everything she does.  I’ve sure fussed and cussed at Tom, you know that.”

            I nod.  But Cassie seems comfortable in who she is and what happens to her.  Even if she gets a spanking—I blush just thinking about it—everything is okay afterward and she doesn’t seem to get upset the way I do.  Is that what happens when you get older? I wonder.  Or is it because she’s not as messed-up as I am?

            Cassie must see something of my thoughts on my face because she pats my shoulder again.  Tells me that we’re going to go for lunch and then sit by the water.  The Neuse River is quiet and a perfect place for talking, she says. 

            All through lunch, she keeps up a steady stream of chatter.  Even though I’ve read her stories on her blog, I feel as if I’m hearing them for the first time.  How she was married at 20 and it was awful, and how she went wild until she met Tom.  How she and Tom found Ryan and asked him to be part of their family.  I smile a little to myself, thinking of how Natalie’s mom found me and asked me to be part of her family.  Now, “Mama Jane” is the closest person I have to a mother. 

            “Ryan’s pretty lucky to have a mom like you,” I say, but Cassie shakes her head.

            “I always prayed and dreamed for a son.  I met him when he was 15, and I fantasized all the time that I was really his mom.  I’ve always loved Tom and always will, but when he made Ryan my son I knew I was the luckiest woman in the world.”  Her voice grows softer.  “I never thought I’d get to have him as my son.  For real.”

            I am blinking back tears, but we are in public and there are people watching.  I say in a slightly unsteady voice, “I never thought the mom could feel like that.  I mean, I always thought I was lucky Mama Jane wanted me when she already had kids of her own…”

            Cassie reaches across the table and puts her hands over mine.  “We are always lucky, whether the person we find is a parent or a child or a friend.  We are lucky to have someone to love.”

            And I am lucky to have found you, I think, but the tightness in my throat refuses to let me say it.  I swallow hard, and swallow again, and finally by taking a few deep breaths I am able to lift my eyes and smile into Cassie’s.  To see a hint of shine there.

You can find part two here.

~o~

Don't worry, the second part of the story will be up tomorrow.  Ana, thank you for this story.  I just hoping everyone is enjoying it as much as I am.  So don't forget to come back tomorrow for the rest of Kat and Cassie's visit.

And for those of you, maybe some newly brave lurkers, want to try your hand at the story.  Please send any stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com