I was more than happy to tell her what a b***h she was.
Jeremy called me later to apologize. I told him not to sweat it. No harm done.
And you will not replace the glass.
Your take on the evening was interesting. I spent most of the time trying to steer people away from her. And keep Gretel Lederhosen amused.
She thought Luscious Lydia would be more like you. It was a shock to find out how unlike you she was. So between Gretel Lederhosen, well, just being Gretel - and me funnelling people to her - I think we kept a lid on Luscious Lydia. As much as we could anyway.
And quite frankly milady all she did do was embarrass herself.
Then you both disappeared. I wanted to come out on the balcony to make sure you were okay. So did the Dashing Major. It was Hans Lederhosen who suggested we didn't. We needed to trust you. And I'm proud of you. For giving it to her like that.
And on the plus side High Maintenance Mandy did think she got a lot of useful material from watching your sister. For her next big b***h role. Am glad she told you. It was good to see you laugh. And relax.
But it was a helluva party. Gretel loved it. Which was good given it was her birthday party. Not sure how the party over West is gonna compare.
And then we had a lazy Sunday to recover. And an opportunity to have a look at the scrapbooks we'd taken from the storage unit.
The press cuttings were mainly about old crime reports. Some of the same names coming up. I didn't recognise any of them. Might be a link to the gun and bloody blade I guess. So I made notes just in case anything came back on them from lab tests. But why would gramps have kept them? Crime reports seemed to be a lot of low level extortion. Bit of racketeering. Didn't explain why gramps had that cash though. All $200k of it. Bills no later than the 1950s.
Quick check on the internet - $2-2.5 million in today's money. Hell!
I noticed you were taking out some pictures from various books and replacing them with stickers. Hans Lederhosen was nose deep in the press cuttings. Gretel had lost interest and was making food. The Dashing Major was watching you.
I'd gone to help Gretel in the kitchen so had missed you and Hans comparing the photos you had with the press cuttings he had.
I guess we don't do photos any more. So we don't mark them up the way they used to. I recognised gran's handwriting on some. Not sure who wrote on the others.
But there it was. Laid out on the dining table. A family tree. A mixture of photos and press cuttings.
Of people with names I didn't recognise. But two faces I did. There was gramps - and gran.
My family.
The mobsters.
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