THE INCREDIBLE SHRINK 'N' WITCH
CHAPTER 6 A Party In Crimson
"I pride myself on my ability as a party-giver," Frasier said to Zelda as they took a cab back to Elliott Bay Towers. "The caterer is providing some of the best roast beef in the Pacific Northwest, only the fanciest of cheeses, while from my own collection there will be wine, both red and white, of incredible subtlety."
I frankly don't mind if the party is a disaster, as long as he and I survive it with our secrets intact, Zelda told her sister.
Why don't you see if you can get Daphne excused for the evening? That way, you can attend the party with a lot more confidence, knowing a potential witch hunter is not around.
Zelda made an imperceptible nod. Not a bad idea, that. "Say, Frasier, why don't you let me show off my skills as a hostess and give Daphne the night off?"
As long as you don't cook, Zelly. I mean, you're not much in the kitchen with magic...as a mortal you'd be–
Watch it, sister, them's fightin' words. I may be no Julia Child, but...
"I appreciate your offer, but it's positively out of the question," Frasier replied. "I mean, you are a guest here. There's no need for you to work on my behalf. Savor the bonhomie tonight; that's all I ask of you."
If only we could come up with some way to get Daphne out, Zelda told Hilda. Maybea ploy involving Niles; Roz told me there's some sort of attraction between them.
Leave it to me!
As Niles Crane entered his luxurious apartment at the Montana after a not-so-busy day at his practice, his feet mysteriously gave out from under him and he collapsed to the floor. While he was able to slowly get up, his calf muscles were in excruciating pain, as if they had all been pulled simultaneously.
While he knew he had several options for recuperating, he eased over to the telephone and chose the option he frankly wanted...
When Frasier and Zelda reached the 19th floor of Elliott Bay Towers and the elevator door opened, they were surprised to see Daphne Moon standing there, wearing a leather jacket.
"Where do you think you're going when I need you for party preparation?" Frasier demanded. "Didn't you walk Eddie earlier?" Then he looked down and noticed the dog wasn't with her, nor did she have a leash.
"Medical emergency. Out of the way," Daphne said, moving into the elevator as Frasier and Zelda moved out.
"It's not my father, is it?" Frasier said, fearing the worst.
"No, it's your brother, and it's not life-threatening. I left a note--" Daphne replied just before the doors closed.
Everything will be fine, Hilda emphasized to Zelda. Nothing to worry about. She's simply out of the way for the evening to give Niles some TLC, courtesy of me.
Oh, are you the clever one...
Frasier sighed. "For lack of a better option, I suppose you've been called to duty, Miss Spellman. Can you handle the challenge?"
Zelda gave him a mock salute. "Aye, aye, captain."
That's the spirit, Zelly! Hilda said, clapping her hands.
"Everything's going to be fine," Niles told his older brother over the phone. "I'm sure Daphne will be here any minute now, providing me the same gentle care she gives Dad."
And if you play your cards right, a little more, Hilda thought.
"While I want you to heal quickly," Frasier replied to Niles, "I absolutely hate having to ask someone from out of town to attend to my party details. It's so unbecoming."
"I don't mind," Zelda shouted from a few feet away as she examined the contents of the cupboards in his kitchen. She had already followed Frasier's orders and herded Eddie into Martin's bedroom.
Following a quick, light dinner of soup and pasta Frasier himself prepared, setup for the party began in earnest shortly after six. "The caterer is scheduled to be here at 6:45, with the first guests arriving at 7:30, so please be prompt," he asked Zelda. "Please!"
"It should be a snap," she replied, although to her it would seem painfully slow since she'd have to do everything the mortal way.
Things went smoothly until about 6:30, when Frasier complained about the arrangement of the cheeses and snacks. "You put the crackers near the soft cheeses, not near the dip," he insisted.
Zelda, at the other end of the room, disagreed. "Well, since for some ridiculous reason you don't have any chips on hand–"
Frasier bristled. "Potato chips? Tortilla chips? They're so...so plebeian, so state U-ish. These are Harvard people you're dealing with. We're not here to watch a football game and drink beer."
Zelda's response became louder. "Then what goes with the dip?"
Hilda looked at her screen, and to her surprise. Zelda – at least the adult version – wasn't there. In her place was a little girl wearing a navy blue pinafore, looking for all the world if she were ready for her first day at school. Oh, I know where this is going, Hilda thought deliciously. Should I prevent this, or should I let it go? I mean, there's no one else here, and it would be so nice for once to be the big sister...
A few seconds later, she decided to intervene, but it was too late.
"You're acting like a child," Frasier said while he was looking away from Zelda. The second he said it, she felt strange, and found everything around her suddenly seemed twice as large. Furthermore, her purple dress was gone, replaced by, of all things, a little girl's outfit...with a bewildered Frasier staring at her from across the room. He blinked, and then saw a full-sized, adult Zelda, again in purple dress, look back at him.
What happened? she angrily asked Hilda. You are in big trouble for this.
Relax! No one else saw it, and you can ride it out. Make believe it was his imagination. We do that all the time, remember?
"Is something wrong?" she asked Frasier.
"I don't know," he replied. "A few seconds ago, I thought I saw you as a little girl, standing over there."
"You're obviously overworking yourself," Zelda answered, strolling closer to him. "And tell me -- would you expect this from a little girl?" she added, embracing Frasier and sensually kissing him on the lips.
"I think not," a confused Frasier said as he fell back from her arms and heard the doorbell chime. "That must be the caterer."
Now that's one passionate witch, Hilda said to herself in complimenting Zelda. Hold it; he's still the witch.
The first guest, a 1990 alumnus who was now a systems analyst at Microsoft, arrived slightly before 7:30. They continued to trickle in gradually, and by 8 p.m. about twenty guests, five of them women, were in Frasier's apartment.
"Mingle, make some acquaintances," Frasier told Zelda as he went to open the door. "It could pay off."
"That it could," she replied, remembering she had zapped some copies of her resume and put them in her handbag before losing her powers. Some of her recent accomplishments were listed, but no dates, for obvious reasons; who would believe she actually worked in Thomas Edison's lab?
Zelda double-checked with Hilda at Frasier Central. Now this time, you're ready in case of disaster? I don't want a repeat of what happened earlier.
I'll be on my best behavior, her sister answered.
Good. Oh, and by the way, come up with something new other than national parks. At this rate, Frasier will wind up as Secretary of the Interior.
No problem, Zelly.
The first problem came about 8:30, when the alums stopped mingling and the head of the Seattle chapter introduced the host, "a man who has done so much for the good name of Harvard in the Pacific Northwest: Frasier Crane!" Enthusiastic, if polite, applause followed.
Hilda looked at the 30-second screen, and saw a vision of Zelda in a fur robe, sitting on a throne. Oh, no, she thought, he's going to call her a queen! What to do? Then she saw his piano. Voila! Frasier Crane, get ready to be the life of the party.
"Thank you," Frasier told his fellow alumni. "I want to welcome you here, along with – let's forget all the pleasantries and enjoy some music. Zelda, would you please sit down and play?"
"Huh? Okay," replied a stunned Zelda, who could play the piano passably but was hardly a virtuoso. But, sis, what the heck should I play?
You like Sinatra, right?
Sure, ever since we magically turned ourselves into bobbysoxers to see him back in 1944.
Just crank out some stuff from the Great American Songbook for Frasier to sing, and everything should be okay. Hilda paused. Oh, and sis, no "Witchcraft" or "Bewitched, Bothered And Bewildered." Can't afford to give him ideas.
Zelda walked over to the piano, took a few seconds to get her fingers limber, and whispered to Frasier, "Do you know 'Saturday Night Is The Loneliest Night In The Week'?"
"Do I?" he answered cheerfully. "It's one of my dad's favorite Sinatra songs! I know it by heart."
Zelda smiled. "Then, let's go." She played four notes, pointed at him, and he began: "Saturday night is the loneliest night in the week, 'cause that's the night that my sweetie and I used to dance cheek to cheek..."
"He had the same great voice in glee club," Zelda overheard someone say as she continued playing.
I'm impressed, Hilda said psychically. With both of you.
You always underestimate my musical skills, Zelda replied.
The mellow sounds continued with the Ellington standard "Don't Get Around Much Anymore," the ballad "In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning," and finally "I'm Confessin'," of which Zelda remembered wearing out Louis Armstrong's record of it back in the early thirties.
Zelda, did you change your outfit? Hilda hurriedly asked between songs. I suddenly see you playing in a sequined dress slit up to...well...
How can I change my outfit so quickly if I'm mortal? Oh no, he must see me as a star like Diana Krall, or something to that effect. She quickly rose from her seat. "Frasier, I think it's time you sat down and played."
"If you insist," he replied.
Good move, Hilda commented. Unless he had a Liberace obsession in his youth, I doubt we'll see him in sequins.
A petite brunette who looked to be in her early thirties began chatting with Zelda while Frasier was singing, and playing, his heart out. "My name is Kelly Marie Ford, class of '88, Business School '91," she said, "and before this get-together turned into a musicale, Frasier told me some wonderful things about your scientific skills. Do you have a resume?"
"Yes," she said, retrieving a folded copy from her handbag and handing it to her. She wasn't necessarily looking for work, although a few freelance assignments certainly would boost the Spellman coffers. "What do you do?"
"I'm with a startup Internet company selling chemicals, and I think your abilities are precisely what we're looking for," Kelly said after examining the resume. "Not only can we offer you a good starting salary, but we'll give you a number of shares in our company. Who knows how much they'll be worth years from now?"
Who knows indeed, Zelda thought with some skepticism, recalling how Hilda lost much of their fortune in 1929 by buying stocks on margin. Still, it sounded like a good opportunity, plus it would be nice to be so close to Frasier...
"Call me at my hotel tomorrow morning to finalize your offer," Zelda said, jotting down the phone number and room on the back of the resume. If it was as good as promised, she just might take it.
Would you really move clear across the country for this, Zelly?
Since the New World was discovered, we've crossed the Atlantic numerous times, sometimes even without magic, Zelda replied. Part of me eagerly awaits a new challenge, especially if Frasier Crane is by my side.
Nearly half of the alums had left the party by the time Martin returned to the apartment at about 10:30. "Where's Daphne?" he asked Frasier.
"Niles had some muscular aches, and Daphne went to treat him," his son answered. "She just called; she'll be back within 30 minutes."
"Are we nearly finished being overrun by the Crimson horde? I'd like to go and get ready for bed."
Frasier nodded. "Just about. I'll relay the word it's time for everyone to leave. We did raise about $7,000 for the Seattle Harvard scholarship fund tonight."
"And that Zelda's not letting you out of her sight," Martin said, noting her waving at him from across the room.
"You like her, don't you Dad?" Frasier said with a smile.
"She's pretty easy to like...and I'm glad she apparently likes you."
"All I'll say is...she's special."
And that's all you need to say, Hilda added from deep within the recesses of Frasier's brain. We are in the homestretch.
A few minutes later, after the number of guests had dwindled to four, Daphne entered.
"Is Niles all right?" Martin asked.
"A few rubdowns of his calves and he was as good as new," she replied, walking towards Frasier.
Oh, I don't want to take any chances with a possible witch hunter now, Zelda thought as she saw her get closer to him. Without making it appear too obvious, she headed Daphne off at the pass, a few feet from Frasier.
"Could I have a few minutes with you, Daphne?" Zelda said. "It's about..." She subtly pointed at Frasier.
"Oh, I get it," Daphne answered. "Sure. Follow me into my room." She turned to Martin. "I'm going to show Zelda some photos of my hometown of Manchester."
Once in her room, Daphne sat at her chair while Zelda sat on the side of her bed. "You're really fond of Dr. Crane, aren't you? This isn't just, uhh–"
"Physical attraction? I hope what he and I did last night doesn't give you that impression," Zelda said. "But you know him better than I do." She sought answers, to be sure, but this was also a time-delaying tactic to keep a potential witch hunter away from her unwitting prey.
"For a man of such intellect, Dr. Crane can often be pretty irrational," Daphne said. "Some of the things he does simply defy comprehension. But I will add this: even when he's doing something strange, he never does it with malice. There's a very gentle soul behind that volatile personality."
Zelda took in her comments, then added after a slight pause, "Do you think I could make him happy? Could he make me happy?"
"From what I've seen of him over the past six years, I suppose the answer is 'yes' on both counts. But I will add this: any woman who's involved with Dr. Crane had better be pretty powerful in her own right." Daphne smiled. "You're not thinking of marrying him, are you?"
"Oh, that would be a long way off, if ever," Zelda said. "But I may be taking a job in Seattle, in which case we could see each other regularly."
"Just be sure you're taking the job with your brain instead of your heart. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go to bed. I've had a busy day."
"Very good," Zelda said, rising from the bed, letting Daphne's advice sink in as she left the room. She looked at her watch. It was just about 11 p.m.
One hour to go.