Cece Mckenzie casually sipped her juice cocktail as her gaze roved over the outdoor party. Everyone stood beneath a behemoth of a white tent, enjoying the breeze coming off the ocean.

All the men were clad in linen suits and the woman in neat cocktail dresses. It felt like the breeding ground of Boston politics.

But while Cece was present in body, her mind was somewhere in the south. She had traded the mild New England heat for the heavy southern humidity.

The men had traded their muted linen suits for polo shirts with popped collars and the woman's cocktail skirts now bounced around them in loud prints.

She watched the social rituals taking place all around her and transposed them into the scene she was working on for her novel. She had managed to get her main character to the party but now that she was there, Cece wasn't sure how she would act.

So Cece watched the people around her, looking for the gesture, or smirk, or flip of hair that would spark her main character into action.

"I have my final review," someone said beside Cece. Cece regretfully hit pause on her trip to the south and looked over at her sister Elliot.

"In order from least to greatest, my review of the bar's juice selection. Cranberry juice..."

Cece shut the door on her southern estate and sipped her drink as she listened intently to her sister's list.

"How can you put apple juice above orange juice?" Cece asked in disbelief as Elliot finished her list. "Orange juice is the supreme ruler of all juice."

"Orange juice is fine," Elliot argued, "but orange juice is all you ever get. Apple juice on the other hand is the gift that keeps on giving. You have apple juice, apple cider, hard apple cider..."

Cece shook her head. "I never should have let you go to Vermont. This is all Vermont's fault."

"What?" Elliot said. "I can change my opinions."

"Only if the change is for the better. Orange juice is best and no amount of cute apple cider packaging is going to convince me otherwise."

"You have to admit the packaging was cute," Elliot said.

"But if the packaging hadn't been cute, you would be standing here, telling me orange juice is the best."

Elliot thought about it for a moment before she gave a conceding shrug.
"Maybe."

The sisters dropped the subject, having reached a satisfactory conclusion, and turned their attention to the party-goers around them.

"Do you think they are aware of how absurd they are?" Elliot asked quietly after a moment, "or do you think they are born blind to it?"

"Just because their decorations match does not mean they are absurd," Cece argued.

"You're still mad that I used Valentine's napkins for your birthday party, aren't you?"

"Would it have killed you to buy a fifty-cent pack of birthday napkins from the corner store?" Cece argued.

"Yes. Yes, it would have," Elliot said flatly.

A waiter passed with a silver tray of hor'dourves and offered them to the sisters. Cece accepted the red, white, and blue thing while Elliot waved the waiter away in disgust. "Absurd," she muttered under her breath.

"No," Cece said before she tossed the bite-sized patriotic snack into her mouth. Her taste buds were flooded with a dichotomy of textures and tastes and she grimaced, unsure if she loved the result or hated it.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Elliot asked.

Cece held up her hand, asking for a moment as she struggled to finish the bite. She reached for her cocktail glass but finding it empty, she stole the glass from her sister's hand. Finally swallowing the bite felt like a victory.

"That was an experience."

"What do you mean 'no'?" Elliot repeated as if she hadn't watched her sister struggle to not spit out her food.

"They aren't aware of how absurd they are," Cece said, motioning to the crowd around them.

It didn't take a detective to figure that out. They were all carbon copies of each other in different shades of pastels, from their hairstyles to their shoe brands, all the while priding themselves on their individualism.

Cece didn't need to be in earshot to know the types of conversations that were being had, she had attended enough of these parties to know.

Someone had picked up a new hobby to find they were naturally very talented at it. Someone was taking on their third degree. Someone else was single-handedly running the next presidential campaign.

"I think the 'unaware filter' was part of the genetic modification package the doctors offered their parents upon their birth," Cece said.

Elliot snorted as she laughed and drew the attention of a few people nearby. It wasn't the first time the two sisters had garnered attention.

While both their dresses met the style standard of the garden party, the prints were far to wild. But their rebellion against the dress code was only mentioned in whispers between the female guests behind the sister's backs.
No one would dare speak openly against them with the connection they had.

Elliot let out a deep sigh and Cece was looking around even before her sister said, "here comes Mr. President."

Cece smiled when she met the eyes of the tall figure moving towards them. He had one hand in the pocket of his linen suit, the other carried a cocktail glass.

His blonde hair was just tamed enough to keep his mother's comments away, and his blue eyes sparkled against the ocean backdrop.

"You really shouldn't call him that. It goes straight to his head," Cece said under her breath.

"It wouldn't go to his head if he understood the sarcasm behind it," Elliot grumbled. She eyed the approaching figure with flagrant dislike.

"There you are," he said, draping an arm around Cece's shoulders. He looked at Elliot, his dislike better hidden under his politician smile. "Elliot."

"Mr. President," Elliot said back.

"Please, it's Malcolm," he said, "for now."

Cece glared at her sister. He already discussed his future presidency on a weekly basis. Even though Cece knew her sister called him Mr. President as a joke, Malcolm took it as incentive to talk about his future with more passion which made it more excruciating for Cece to sit through. She appraised her sister, wondering for the first time if that was Elliot's diabolical plan all along.

"I have...you know..." Elliot tossed out, not even trying to give her excuse to get away any credence. But Malcolm didn't even register Elliot's exit as he began to move Cece in the opposite direction.

He led her towards a group that was bold enough to leave the shade of the tent to stand along the ledge overlooking the water.

"I found her!" Malcolm called to the group, showcasing Cece like she was a prize. The group called out hurrah's as they welcomed Cece into their fold.

"Thank goodness!" one of the girls said, attaching herself to one of Cece's arms. "You won't believe the boredom I have endured because of these rapscallions." The girl pretended to whisper her discontent as she smiled teasingly to the group.

"Come now Annabelle," Cece said in an affected voice, "If I know Zachary and Franklin at all, I know that can't be the case." The whole group chortled like she had landed the joke of the year.

"Whatever could our dear writer be alluding to," Franklin asked, his face as innocent as a politician on trial.

Cece gave Franklin a knowing look and he smiled devilishly. Wherever Franklin Landers went, outrageous antics were sure to follow.

"We should bring her," Franklin said after a moment. "On our trip!"

"Brilliant!" Zachary concurred, throwing his hand in the air to declare, "she can document our wondrous travels."

"A Trip Aboard!" Franklin said, sweeping his hand through the air as he suggested a book title. "By our dear Cecilia Mackenzie."

"The Travels of Franklin and Zachary?" Cece offered. The boys cried out in approval.

"Boston Takes Europe?" Zachary suggested.

"Idiots Go Abroad?" Cece said.

"Hey!" Franklin said, even as he laughed. "From New England to England."

"Two Blokes in Britain?" Cece threw out.

"Three really," Franklin corrected her. "Three Fellows in France?"

"What...?" Cece started.

"It's sure to be a bestseller," Zachary added.

"Indeed! Of course, we'll share the profits," Franklin said, moving closer to loudly whisper to Cece. "But that can all be sorted once we are back state-side."

"Three fellows?" Cece asked. "Who else is going?"

"Why our dear writer, your true love Malcolm," Franklin said, waltzing through the group as he sang the reply.

"If you keep this type of behavior up, I might have to change my mind," Malcolm said dryly, sticking his arm out to block Franklin's path.

"Don't be so serious," Franklin chided Malcolm. "Or I will have to renege my invitation."

Cece usually loved observing these types of exchanges between Malcolm and Franklin. They could not be more different.

While Malcolm had his sights set on following his father into politics and was already aware of keeping a clean image, Franklin's disdain for his father made him shun anything to do with politics and made tarnishing his reputation all the more enjoyable.

But they had been friends since first grade so no matter how much they fought, they would be friends for life.

But today, Cece was distracted by what Franklin had said. She looked at Malcolm. "You're going to Europe with them?"

"It was last minute. It seems Franklin can't go anywhere without me." He joked like anyone could make a last-minute decision to travel through Europe for three weeks.

"When did you decide this?" Cece asked, her mind reeling at the thought of not seeing him for three weeks.

He frowned as he thought about it. "Two days ago," he shrugged.

"You've known for two days and you didn't tell me?" Cece looked at him in disbelief. He shrugged again like the decision had barely warranted his attention.

"Awww, young love..." Franklin teased.

Cece glared at him, and he chuckled.

"Come now dear writer," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "We promise to return him in one piece."

The whole group laughed, including Malcolm, but Cece had stopped listening. What was she going to do?

These next few weeks were the most key writing weeks as she reached the end of her novel and it was now that Malcolm decided to leave her. How was she going to write? Elliot would tell she would write like she had before Cece had met Malcolm, but Elliot didn't understand.

Before dating Malcolm, Cece had been in a long-term relationship with writer's block. Her inspiration would come in random spurts then leave her with nothing for weeks, even months. Then Cece started dating Malcolm and her writer's block became a thing of the past.

"Aww, you are really going to miss me," Malcolm teased, squeezing her face.

She slapped his hand away but managed a teasing smile to keep the mood lighthearted. She knew it was best to never reveal too much with this crowd.

"Boys," Annabelle sighed, giving Cece's arm a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry about missing them. We girls know how to have fun too."

Cece smiled even though shopping and getting mani-pedis with Annabelle was the last thing both girls wanted to do together. Annabelle only kept Cece close because anyone in politics knows you keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

"The offer still stands," Franklin said, looking to Malcolm to judge his reaction. "Join us dear writer and get material to write your first memoir."

"More like exposé," Cece joked grimly. "I have pages due,"

"Pages!" Malcolm shouted out dramatically.

"The pages!" Franklin sang.

"Those cursed pages!" Zachary finished, falling dramatically to his knees.

Everyone in the group laughed, but Cece only managed a weak smile. She couldn't fault the boys for the drama show. Any time she had to cancel on them or skip out early she blamed it on the pages her publisher was demanding.

One, she believed it made her sound like a more legit writer, and two, it felt like a better excuse than 'I really don't want to'.

"My publisher is very demanding," she said, not even caring to put any resolve in the excuse.

Malcolm threw an arm around Cece. "My girl didn't get to where she is without hard work," he said.

"Unlike Malcolm here," Franklin said, punching Malcolm's arm.

Both jabs sent Malcolm diving for Franklin and in a moment they were on the ground wrestling. With the attention no longer on Cece, she let her smile drop, and all the stress over Malcolm leaving came slamming back. She took an excuse out of Elliot's book and mumbled something as she walked away from the group.

She was barely aware of where she was going as she thought about three weeks without Malcolm. Three miserable weeks facing her writer's block. She thought she could already feel her ideas seeping out of her brain and she hadn't gotten a single idea from the interaction with Malcolm and his friends.

Usually, she would walk away from them with her brain so overflowing with ideas she didn't dare speak to anyone until she could get in front of her computer. Today, all she had taken away from the exchange was dread and nausea.

Somehow, making it to the bar, she slammed her hand down. "Orange juice, on the rocks," she said.

She looked back out at the crowd, testing her theory, and cried in despair when all she saw was a New England garden party. Gone was the southern heat and popped collars.

"The juice good man. Can't you see this woman is in crisis!" Elliot said, sidling up to Cece.

"You mock me," Cece wailed.

"Only a little bit," Elliot admitted.

"You don't understand El," Cece burst out, her panic reaching for its highest heights. "Malcolm is leaving for three weeks!"

"Oh, happy day!" Elliot sang. "The gods have blessed me immensely! I have to tell Tristan!"

Elliot pulled out her phone and Cece smacked it to the ground. Elliot gave Cece a horrified look before she stooped to grab her phone but Cece couldn't care, how great was her despair.

"Your celebration insults me," Cece bemoaned.

Elliot set her phone aside to give her sister her full attention. "Malcolm is the worst," Elliot stated. Cece's face turned horrified, but Elliot waved the reaction away. "Please, you don't like him either."

"Malcolm may be intolerable, but what am I suppose to do about my book?" Cece said, dropping her voice in volume to make sure those around them didn't hear her openly admit her dislike for the senator's son.

It had only taken a few weeks for Cece to realize that Malcolm was fun but completely wrong for her. But dating him had cured her writer's block so she kept the relationship going. She had attended all of the parties and outings with his friends so she could write and yet, he was still leaving her.

"I'm so far from the end of my book and my muse is leaving for Europe," Cece said. "I'll never finish this book and my short-lived career as a writer will be finished. I'll end up being a waitress at Denny's until I die."

Elliot rolled her eyes. "He is not your muse."

"You don't understand," Cece shot back. "You've never had to deal with writer's block, you stupid book-producing prodigy."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Elliot grinned, before growing serious for her sister's sake.

She put a comforting arm around Cece. "You are going to be fine. You were a writer before you started dating Malcolm and you will be a writer after you finally break up with him, oh glorious day I long for."

Cece gave her a flat look and Elliot returned to the matter at hand.

"I know you struggle with writer's block, but Malcolm is not the only solution. There are other answers and we will figure it out," Elliot promised.

"You can come write with me in the office! I'll buy all your favorite snacks and drinks and we can play whatever music you want! We will turn the office into your writing sanctuary."

Cece appreciated Elliot's offer but she wasn't convinced the right music was going to keep the writer's block at bay.
Sensing Cece's doubt, Elliot tried a new tactic.

"We have two cartons of ice cream at home and google on my phone. With those two things, I am convinced we can find a solution. I won't rest until you finish this book. Come on," Elliot said, leading the way out of the party. But she paused when her eyes landed on Malcolm's group of friends.

"Do you want to say goodbye to Malcolm?" Elliot asked.

Cece knew it was Elliot's version of a peace offering. She looked at Malcolm and thought about saying goodbye, but she was too annoyed with him to care. He was ruining her career by leaving her.

"No," she said stubbornly, leading the way out of the party. She didn't miss Elliot's sigh of relief.

**********************************************************************

Hello Noodles!

Before we start this author's note leave your thoughts, pots, and geraniums here. 🗯💭💬

Why do they have geraniums?

Grace, can we please stop talking about geraniums? We have serious things to discuss.

Such as...?

Technically, I wrote Cece (in my book Mr. Write) about you so I think it's a bit odd you wrote this book about yourself.

I don't think it's odd. I'm awesome 😏

🙄 Fine, I guess I can't argue with facts. On with show!

Vote, comment, follow!