Chapter Sixty-Three: A Paradise
After attending two press conferences, three tours for a newly opened museum, middle school, and a remodeled section of the Gotham Public Library, Oswald had chosen to retire. At least, for the afternoon. When he came home to see Ed diligently working at his desk in the living room, preparing his agenda for the following week, Oswald inwardly smiled.
As misguided as his suggestion had been initially, it had worked.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Mayor," Ed greeted with a small smile.
"Good afternoon, my Chief-of-Staff. In higher spirits, aren't we?"
Ed glanced at him as though he wasn't sure whether to treat him to the details of his and Sylvia's most recent rendezvous or to glaze over the incident with mild apprehension in any case Oswald wasn't in the mood to inquire. Instead, the latter broke the waning decision for him.
"Where's Sylvia?" He asked.
Ed pointed his eyes in the direction of the kitchen. Entreating from that room was a mixture of smells: roasted chicken, freshly cooked mashed potatoes—even the smell of bread seemed damn near intoxicating. Just from their position in the living room, both men could hear Sylvia singing along to a song, or rather, rapping to it.
"I shake it like JLO, make the boys say hello
'Cause they know I'm rockin' the beat
I know you heard about a lot of MCs
But they ain't got nothin' on me
Because I'm 5 foot 2
I wanna dance with you
And I'm sophisticated fun, I eat fillet minon
I'm nice and young, best believe I'm number one"
Both men glanced at each other at the selection of Sylvia's candid choices in music, more in amusement than disapproval. It was a proven fact: even when she was surrounded by high class complexities due primarily to Oswald's extravagant tastes, she still retained her own simplistic and down-to-earth preferences.
Ed put his pen down and stood a little away from the desk, asking interestedly, "How did your conference go?"
Oswald rolled his eyes, "Mildly aggravating."
"I wouldn't expect it to go any other way, to be honest. Was the media ruthless?"
"Aren't they, always?"
"True. At least they work like clockwork."
Oswald chuckled, "They arrive for the kill, leave after the slaughter."
"In that likeness, they really don't have any commonalities with the vultures they're perceived to be."
"Just the predatory trait."
"Without a doubt."
Ed smirked at Oswald, who grinned back at him. They had pleasant banter again. That was a positive note.
Olga came out of the kitchen briefly, holding a few dishes in her hands, walking out with her usual rigidity. In contrast, Sylvia held a large pot of mashed potatoes as she did a little bit of a dance, singing the chorus of her preferred music number at the moment:
Rock it, don't stop it, everybody get on the floor
Crank the party up, we about to get it on
Let me see you one, two step
I love it when you one, two step
Everybody one, two step, we about to get it on!
Once the chorus repeated itself, Sylvia bumped her hip against Olga's (the maid looked both startled but amused.)
Sylvia encouraged loudly, "Come on, you should know the lyrics by now. Sing it, sister!"
Oswald raised an eyebrow at her congeniality, while Ed snickered as he walked back to the desk to finish up closing the Mayor's agenda for the following week.
Olga half-sang, half-spoke the lyrics in a little broken English, only for the fact that she couldn't sing it nearly as quick as Ciara (the original singer).
When the housemaid demonstrated the slightest bit of effort, Sylvia jumped up and down: "Yeah, get it, Olga! Whoop-whoop! Whoop-whoop!"
She disappeared behind the swinging kitchen door for the rest of the entrées, leaving behind the housemaid, who peered at her boss and Ed; with an embarrassed cough, she quickly retreated in the direction Sylvia had gone.
"Never a dull moment with her around, is there?" Oswald asked mischievously.
Ed answered with a shake of his head and a smile, "Never."
With that said, there was an unspoken agreement. Somewhere between their friendship, the night that the three of them were together, and Sylvia's most recent attempt to make him feel better, Ed felt there was some type of an arrangement between all three that was never discussed, despite Sylvia's proffered statement that all parties involved who were engaged in such an agreement needed to be aware of it.
It felt disjointed in a way, yet perfect.
If things had continued that way, it might've been a paradise. Unfortunately, nothing in Gotham ever stayed serene.