It was Laura Hardy's first Christmas party since coming to work for Ford Enterprises. She really didn't want to attend the gathering because she and her husband were not much into partying. But what made it even more dubious was the scuttlebutt she had heard around the office that this holiday celebration could become wild, and had in previous years. However, one of the few coworkers she had become close to, Abby Costello, warned that failure to show could adversely affect her standing in the company. So, Laura reluctantly convinced her also hesitant husband, Norman, to go.
One reason the Hardys were always so uneasy about going to parties, particularly with a new group of people, was because Laura was actually a couple of inches taller than Norman. And though she tried to avoid high heels, when dressing for an event such as this, no other footwear seemed appropriate. Of course, that only made the height difference worse. And therein lay the problem: the teasing that they would have to endure. People tried to be cute and clever, and though the Hardys did their best to grin and bear it, quite often, such remarks still stung.
And so, Laura promised Norman they would just stay a respectable amount of time and then hightail it out.
One other frightening element was that the party was being held at Paul Ford's enormous condo. Laura had never even met Paul. She knew he was a vice president of the company, except that no one really knew what he did. He was rarely in the office and had a reputation as a playboy, even worse than his brother, Peter, once had. He was also known to throw "wild parties." Peter actually ran the company, but had apparently become tame after his wife left him and ran off with a man who was briefly Abby Costello's boss in accounting.
Laura's fears subsided somewhat after they entered the condo and she spotted Abby. She and Norman immediately headed in that direction. Norman had never actually met Abby, but felt as though he knew her because his wife talked about her so much. After the coworkers greeted one another, Laura said, "Abby, this is my husband, Norman, you've heard me talk so much about."
As Norman extended his hand to shake Abby's, he quickly assessed the woman. She was a couple of inches shorter than he, the kind of woman in moments of weakness he wished he had married. Other than that, she was quite attractive with short brown hair, decent sized breasts and an engaging smile.
As he let go of her hand, a big man, a few inches taller than Laura, appeared.
"And I'd like the two of you to meet
my
husband, Frank," Abby said.
Laura was too stunned to speak, if her gaping mouth was any clue, so Norman quickly shook the man's huge paw and offered, "Nice to meet you."
And pretty much as Norman had done, Frank mentally undressed Laura, whose tall, lithe body was a match for his own. Her short dress revealed long, shapely legs, and though her breasts were on the small side, something told him their rounded shape did not disappoint.
A waiter took their drink orders as the four stood in the same place talking about nothing particularly important. Abby did tell Norman the story of Jack, who had been promoted to VP of Accounting, and the very next day, ran off to Paris with the boss's wife. During her discourse, their drinks arrived, and the tale was interrupted as other fellow employees passed and extended greetings: Mickey Ewing and his wife, Victoria; Sheila Easterly; and Leslie Withe. Peter and Paul Ford passed by, and true to his reputation, Paul, was not the least bit shy about ravishing the ladies until his brother steered him away. Peter rolled his eyes for the benefit of the Hardy's and the Costello's over his sibling's behavior.
But it wasn't until George Rome, a known jokester and head of Research and Development, and his gorgeous wife, Donna, came by that the size issue reared its ugly head. But with it came a comical realization. "Oh, my god," George said, pointing to each person in the order they were standing. "Laura and Hardy and Abby and Costello." Then he started laughing, until his wife slapped his arm.
"That's not very nice, George," Donna scolded. "There's nothing funny about their names."
"You're right. I'm sorry. I was just struck by the irony."
"What have you had to drink, George," Donna said. "You're not making any sense."
"I guess none of you are old enough to remember," George explained. "I only do because of my parents. Have you ever heard of Laurel and Hardy or Abbott and Costello? They were both comedy teams back in the—I don't know—30s, 40s, 50s."
"Yes, I've heard of them," Norman agreed.
"Well, please don't take offense to this; I swear I mean nothing by it. But Laurel—" he pointed to Laura as he said this "—was tall, and Hardy was short." He gestured to Norman, then Abby. "And Abbot was short and Costello was tall." He finished by indicating Frank.
"I'm sorry, you guys," Donna offered, dragging her husband away. "I'm embarrassed," the others heard her tell her husband as the two walked off.
Speechless, Laura and Hardy and Abby and Costello stood there sipping their drinks, when Frank started chuckling. "Well, I guess we do cut a comical picture."
Norman downed his drink. "Well, I expected to be ridiculed being shorter than my wife; happens all the time. But you're right, being here with you two, there is some humor to it."
Soon after, the two women were laughing also.
"Well, I don't know about you guys," Norman said, "but if we're going to be the comic relief here, I'm not going to waste the expensive booze."
"Sounds like a plan," Frank agreed. "Let's get the ladies some fresh drinks."
As the men walked off, Abby remarked, "I'm glad our husbands are getting along."
"Yeah," Laura concurred. "I didn't realize Frank was . . .
my
size."
"Or that yours was closer to me."
"Small world," Laura noted.
"Or in yours and Frank's case,
tall
world."
They both laughed.
"Let's go powder our noses," Abby suggested.
"Do women really do that anymore?"
Abby shrugged. "Sounds more lady-like than let's go take a piss."
When they returned, their husbands were waiting for them in the same place, drinks in hand.
"So, what do we do now?" Norman asked.
"Find a place to sit," Laura said with a grimace. "I'm not used to wearing heels and these are killing me." She glanced around. "But it seems everything is taken."
"Follow me," Abby instructed.
She led the group down a hallway that terminated with a door that emptied outside onto a large balcony. It was outfitted with patio furniture, so they all took a seat, the men in two chairs perpendicular to a settee on which the women settled, each nearest her own husband. The ladies' dresses had risen high on their legs when they sat, and Norman couldn't help admiring Abby's. Likewise, Frank took a good look at Laura's.
"So, what is a respectable amount of time to stay before we can leave?" Laura asked.
"What's wrong? You're not enjoying our company?" Abby quipped.
"Oh, no," Laura said, taking her coworker seriously. "We're just not partygoers. We're more comfortable in small groups."
"This
is
a small group," Abby noted, gesturing to the four of them. "We'll have this balcony to ourselves as long as we want it; or at least until the bedroom starts to see action."
"What bedroom?" Laura asked.
"And what action?" Norman added.
Abby pointed to the other end of the balcony. "That's the master bedroom. When things start to get wild, people will use it."
"Use it for what?" Laura pressed.
"Sweetie, you need to get out more," Abby chided. "Uh, sex."
"Will things really get that wild?" Norman wanted to know.
"They have in the past. But I've heard that these parties have calmed down somewhat since Peter's wife left him. Or things don't get going until he leaves."
