The House of Seven Mabels

dry cleaning, or school papers.“
    Jane explained how she’d spent the weekend. Shelley, flipping through the contract one last time, paid very little attention except to mutter, “Good for you, Jane.“
    When they reached the restaurant, Shelley said, “Let me order for both of us. I know what you always get. Start reading.“
    Jane had known Shelley most of her adult life and knew when it was possible to object to her bossiness. This wasn’t one of those times.
    She applied herself as diligently as she could and hoped she could finish before they were through eating so Shelley could pay their bill while she tried once again to reach Mel.
    It wasn’t to be. Shelley finished eating first, continually warning Jane not to spill anything on the contract.
    “What would it matter?“ Jane said, slightly snippily. “You can always print out a fresh one.“
    “I want to show Bitsy what a well-done, well-presented contract should look like without sticky bun icing smeared on it. And I don’t want to go back home to print a new one. Aren’t you through yet?“
    “With the contract or my breakfast?“
    “Both.“
    Jane sighed, looking longingly at her now-cold second waffle. “I guess I am. Let’s go.“
    When they’d almost reached the construction site, Jane asked, “Do you think they got rid of the smell? I don’t want to go in if they haven’t.“
    “We’ll see. I’m determined to get Bitsy away from Sandra anyway. We might just ask her to come outside to talk.“
    “Are you going to make her read the contract right there in front of you?“
    “No. That would be tacky.“
    “It wasn’t tacky when you did it to me,“ Jane said, showing off, as she spoke, how well she could parallel-park on a busy street.
    “I’ll give her the contract, pointing out, naturally, how unprofessional hers was. I’ll bet you anything Sandra drew it up. Anyway, I’m men going to rat on Sandra about the measured drawings. Just so you know what to expect.“
    They found Sandra and Bitsy in the end of the upstairs part of the house that was being completed first. Everybody was relieved that the horrible odor was gone. Today two people were starting the Sheetrock. One was obviously a real, genuine male. Everyone watched as he picked up an eight-by-four-foot sheet as if it were no heavier than a piece of paper and heaved it precisely into place.
    He turned around and Bitsy said, “Ladies, meet Carl Stringfield. Isn’t he a wonder?“
    “He is,“ Jane and Shelley said at the same time.
    Bitsy told him their names and what they’d be doing as if it were already sorted out and a done deal. “And this is Ev,“ she said as a lithe young woman with dark curly hair entered the room.
    “Bitsy, I’ve asked you not to call me Ev several times. My name is Evaline Berman. Evaline. Got it? Or Ms. Berman. And who are you ladies?“ Her expression of discontent suddenly disappeared as she spotted the newcomers.
    “Shelley Nowack and Jane Jeffry,“ Shelley said, shaking hands with Evaline. “We’re thinking of being the decorators.“ There was the barest hint of emphasis on the word “thinking.“
    “Evaline is the mud person,“ Bitsy said with a titter. “Isn’t that what you call it, usually?“
    “That’s what Carl calls it. I call it joint cement.“
    “She’s also an inventor,“ Bitsy continued. “She has a special sort of joint cement that she’s patenting. Dries so fast you wouldn’t believe it. Sands easily and most often doesn’t even require a second coat.“
    Jane remembered having the garage Sheet-rocked. It took days to dry and made the most awful mess when it was patched and sanded.
    White powder seeped into virtually everything in her whole house. “That’s very impressive,“ Jane admitted.
    Shelley was trying to get Bitsy away. Sandra was roaming around straightening up tools and debris. She wasn’t nearly as well dressed today. She had on designer jeans with a nice scoop-neck T-shirt with satiny trim at the throat, but with the usual high heels and the usual purse practically a part of her body.
    Shelley finally succeeded in dragging Bitsy off and made a gesture for Jane to follow. But as Jane started to do so, Evaline said, “Could I have a word with you?“
    “Sure.“ Jane was relieved to have an excuse not to be there for the slaughter.
    “This is kind of silly of me, but I’ve asked for half an hour off this morning to go and sign the patent application,“ Evaline said. “I’d