The thing I remember most about Esme was that amidst her thrift store furnishings she had one of those French provincial type telephones. The kind that Elizabeth Taylor had in Butterfield 8.
She’d say that all the time too, most likely while fingering a crumb of Captain’s Wafer out of her cleavage and delicately placing it in her mouth like Beluga caviar…
“Same fuckin’ phone as was in da movie.”
Esme’s world was a gyre of Paul Klee paintings, Popular Club pantsuits with Hermes scarves, teak tv trays, and Taster’s Choice Instant Coffee.
“Honey, just put in a splash of half and half and then a spoonful of Cremora…Tastes just the same and you’ll save on the cream.”
On Sundays, we’d watch Masterpiece Theatre while sipping on SaveMart Tea in Royal Doulton china cups.
That was pure Esme.
Rene ~ November 1, 2012