Black Thursday (2 page)

Fortunately, Anastasia Chastain had.

The unexpected boon of TV coverage would offer Awesome Alan Bader's generations-old family business a welcome leg up against the relentless threat of the all-powerful big-box stores. As for me, there was no denying the increased visibility and potential traffic to the website.

But
line my pockets with kickback money
?

The holes needed to be sewn up first.

Closing my eyes, I took a centering breath to regulate my blood pressure and tried to think of Contrary Claire, whom I pictured as thin, pinched, and in need of some kindness clearly missing from her life. I opened my eyes and forced myself to reread the post, mindful of the poor woman's right to her skewed opinion.

Once again, I was stopped by the word
scheme.

What if other Frugarmy members checked the website before they left to go shopping, decided she had a point about the online deals, and stayed home
themselves?

What if Alan from Bargain Barn saw the post?

I took another breath. It was unlikely too many people would take CC's rant all that seriously, but that wouldn't stop Alan from freaking out about the disastrous aftereffects of a TV crew filming in his otherwise-empty store on the busiest shopping evening of the year. And who could blame him?

My hands trembled as I began to type a response:

Dear CC,

Thank you for writing.

I promptly deleted that
and replaced it with a less friendly, more direct,
I appreciate your concerns
.

Which sounded far too gratuitous.

I deleted the sentence and decided on,
I'm glad you were able to get Black Friday prices early with my tip on pre-sale shopping.

Which sounded passive-aggressive. Because it was. I erased again, took a deep breath, and started anew:

Dear CC,

I really appreciate all the comments that come in to Mrs. Frugalicious, but sometimes I feel the need to respond with some qualifications, corrections, and/or additions.

This is one of those times.

Bargain Barn is an upstanding local business committed to providing the best prices and customer service. That is why they were the first store I thought of when Channel Three asked me (yesterday to be exact) to Black Friday shop on camera. There is absolutely no gimmick, scam, or kickback scheme involved. I simply got a message from one of the local TV stations (who coincidentally happens to employ my estranged husband) about doing a story of benefit to all of us in the bargain shopping community. I can assure you, the deals available tonight at Bargain Barn are anything but hype—they are offering to meet or beat all competitor prices, for goodness sake.

As for MrsFrugalicious.com, I will only be gaining what I hope will be many more bargain shoppers looking to save money and share tips from the increased exposure.

I am truly sorry you'll miss the festivities. It's going to be a Black Friday to remember.

“Maddie?” Eloise, my stepdaughter, opened the French doors, rushed into the room, and filled my office with her fruity-floral perfume and usual sense of mild exasperation. “How long were the pies supposed to stay in the oven?”

“The pies?” I repeated, distracted by whether I should end by taking the high road with a
Happy Thanksgiving
or just sign off.

“Joyce said you said they needed to warm up together,
8
but that the pumpkin pie—”

“Is supposed to be served chilled or at room temperature.”

Her dark, shiny curls bounced as she shook her head. “Not according to her.”

“Oh dear,” I said. “I'll be there as soon as I post this response.”

“To that weird Contrary Claire person?”

“Unfortunately she decided tonight is some sort of marketing boondoggle and announced it on the website.”

“No way!” Eloise looked over my shoulder at the monitor. “Why are you bothering to respond?”

“I'm just worried people will read it or—”

“Just delete what she wrote.”

“Delete it?” For the sake of fair blog journalism and a firm belief that by sharing and comparing bargaining tips everyone came out ahead, I'd never considered censoring anyone.

Even Contrary Claire.

Not her response to my Thanksgiving shopping tips:
Sure, some stores offer a free frozen turkey with $50 minimum purchase, but what they don't tell you is they're so deep frozen you could miss Thanksgiving waiting for the bird to thaw.

Not her opinion about my Halloween savings post, in which I advised readers to consider less-expensive types of candy:
There's nothing gained by buying off-brands. The kids don't like them, they scare off the parents, and chances are the treats will just end up in the trash.

Not her objection to a tip I'd passed along from the manager at an upscale women's chain, who told me it was company policy to accept all discount coupons for up to five days past the expiration date:
Didn't work for me.

“Everything she said is totally lame,” Eloise said.

“Other than she may have a point about online versus traditional shopping.”

“She can't know for sure if she's not at Bargain Barn to compare,” Eloise said with a touchingly sympathetic hand to the hip. “Right?”

“True.”

“So press the delete button.”

“I'm not really sure I—”

“Want a bunch of crazy lies on your web page?”

The pungent aroma of burning pie came wafting in from the direction of the kitchen.

“You better hurry and delete the comment,” she said, “or there goes all the dessert.”

“I suppose you're right.” I sighed. “But I have no idea how …”

Eloise reached around me and began to tap away on my keyboard. “Simple.”

_____

“I just can't believe anyone would write anything so mean-spirited.” Barb, no stranger to mean-spiritedness herself, shook her head.

“Cyber bully,” Craig said.

“What goes around comes around,” Gerald, who seemed to have a new penchant for clichés and catchphrases, mumbled through bites of extra-crispy apple pie.

Joyce eyed the plate of food she'd left out for me that I wasn't even pretending to pick at. “Why don't I just pop that in the microwave for you and—”

“That's okay,” I said quickly, watching melting whipped cream drip down the burnt crust of the warm pumpkin pie she'd also placed in front of me upon my return to the table. “I'm afraid I've sort of lost my appetite for now.”

“You know, Mom,” FJ said. “Everything that wacko writes can be blocked.”

“Probably not a bad idea,” I said. “At least for tonight.”

“We can make it so no comments can post without your approval,” Trent added.

“That might be going too far,” I said. “If I have to review and approve everything that comes in before it posts, my followers could miss a time-sensitive tip or deal.”

“A missed deal is nothing if your personal safety is compromised,” Joyce said. As Gerald, Craig, and Barb nodded in agreement, Frank furrowed his brow with what looked to be sincere concern.

“I can't imagine the woman is dangerous,” I said. “She probably just has personal issues and goes online to vent and maybe escape real life.”

“Escape is rarely the solution to dealing with life's little bumps in the road,” Joyce said.

“Tempting though it may be,” Barb added.

They shared a not-at-all surreptitious glance.

Before I could begin to process, much less respond, to their less than subtle statement about Frank's bad behavior and show of support for me, my real text alert pinged in apparent agreement.

The room fell quiet.

“Is it CC?” Trent asked.

A legion of nervous butterflies fluttered in my gut as I fished the phone from my pocket praying it wasn't an irate Contrary Claire, a freaked out Awesome Alan, or anyone else who might have been ruffled by the now-deleted post.

Anastasia Chastain
scrolled across the display.

“Phew,” I managed.

“Who is it?” Frank asked.

Not only wouldn't Frank suggest me for an on-air moment, my glib, camera-ready, soon-to-be-ex could barely crack a strained smile when I first mentioned I'd been invited to step out of the sidelines and into the TV spotlight—a spotlight I'd been only too happy to see shine on him all these years. Had we not been separated, I'd have been sensitive to his ego and asked for his blessing before accepting an offer to so much as mention Mrs. Frugalicious on any station, much less his.

Then again, times had changed.

“Anastasia,” I simply said.

“Gotcha,” he said, but with no sign of a grimace or scowl.

Having left my glasses atop my head, I didn't have an excuse to leave the room again, so I simply looked down and read the text:

Need you at bargain barn an hour early, ready for an interview.

With the word
interview
, a band of perspiration broke out at the base of my neck. I'd expected to play shopper with Anastasia providing the color commentary, not speak on camera beyond providing a quick sound bite or two.

“What is it?” Frank asked.

“She wants me there an hour early so she can interview me before the store opens.”

“That's terrific!” Joyce said.

“Cool, Mom,” FJ said.

“Figures Stasia would come up with a way to capitalize on the airtime.” Frank actually smiled. “Gotta love that girl's ingenuity.”

I dabbed at the beads of sweat that broke out across my forehead as well and forced my thoughts away from the recent past and onto my near future. “I should start getting ready.”

“Will we all be on camera?” Eloise turned to check her reflection in the antique mirror that hung behind her. “Or just you?”

“I assume whoever's shopping with me will end up on camera.”

“Maybe I should get ready soon too then.”

“You're coming with?” I'd been Eloise's stepmother since she was a preschooler. I thought of her as my own, but I assumed she'd prefer to be home with the rest of the family she rarely got to see, instead of out all night with just me.

“I thought it might be fun.”

“I'd love to have you along!” I said. “I could really use a helper.”

“I'm thinking I'll tag along too.” Craig raised an eyebrow. “I'd like one of those flat-screen TVs in my entertainment room.”

“That's great,” I said, not nearly as enthusiastically as I had to Eloise, and not wanting to think about what playboy Craig defined as
entertainment.

“Can we hang at home and watch football?” Trent asked.

“We could keep an eye on the kids after they go to bed, too. Unless you want us to come with,” FJ, the more sensitive of my sons, offered.

“No need,” Frank said, as I'd have expected. He loved to encourage the boys, who were something of standouts on their high school football team, to watch the pros play whenever possible.

I didn't expect what he said next.

“I'm coming with too.” He turned and made direct eye contact with me for the first time in months. “To help make sure they show your best angles and all that.”

“I …” I was flabbergasted. He was well aware of the stage fright that had kept me from ever considering an on-air gig. He'd learned of it back when I'd served briefly as an intern at the station, fallen hard for him, and ended up married with twins—though not necessarily in that order.

“It's the least I can do,” he said.

Even though there was no one more qualified, I hadn't considered asking for his assistance. Or anticipated his company …

“This is all so exciting.” Joyce stood and started clearing the table. “Better get things cleaned up quickly so we'll be ready on time.”

“You're coming along?”

“I just love a good deal,” Joyce, whose idea of discount shopping was the reduced rack at Neiman Marcus, added.

“Really?” I asked, more than a little surprised.

“We're hoping you'll take us on a field trip to the grocery store while we're here,” Barb said.

“Really?” I asked again.

“We want some pointers on how to do that extreme coupon grocery shopping.”

“Nothing wrong with saving where you can.” Joyce removed Gerald's plate just as he'd finished his last bite of pie. “Which is why we can't wait to experience our first Black Thursday!”