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Chapter One:
Only One Master


Valentine’s Day:

“I can’t believe you’re going through all this trouble”, Frankie said.  And I can’t believe you talked me into helping you, she added in her mind. “Arranging this whole Valentine’s Day ball at Foster’s should be more than enough.”

“It’s a big step forward, dear, but they’re going to need one extra push. We need to get them all alone, with nowhere else to go. Now, is your car ready?”

“Yes, grandma.”

“And the tank?”

“As good as empty. They won’t get further than a couple of miles.”

“Excellent!” She leaned out the window “Oh, would you look at those storm clouds. The rain is going to come down hard tonight, just like the weatherman predicted. All for the better, of course. Oh, and here comes the main players”

Players? They’re the ones who are being played! Frankie thought as she watched Mac and Goo walk hand in hand towards the front door. She remembered that the first time she watched them hand in hand, she had been a little too quick to draw conclusions… “They do look cute together”, Frankie admitted.

“But…?”

“Are you reading my mind, grandma? Okay, I admit it - I think you’re being to manipulative.”

“Manipulative? If I tried to ruin the dates and relationships they’ve had with other people, now that would be manipulative! But they always did that by themselves. And you know why?”

“Tell me…” Frankie muttered.

“Because those other people weren’t right for them. They’re perfect for each other!”

“Perfect? Grandma, Goo is wild and impulsive while Mac is calm, careful and responsible.”

“Exactly! Gunilla needs someone to stop her when she goes too far, while Maxwell needs someone to show him how to have fun! They complement each other!”

Frankie hesitated. Well, in a way, that made sense. In a way.

Feeling that she had won the argument, Madame Foster confidently declared:

“I’m gonna get those two together, if it’s the last thing I do!”

“At this rate, grandma, it will be the last thing you do!”

Madame Foster laughed.

***

Four months later:

Madame Foster had laughed. But Frankie was closer to the truth than she had realised.

Please sit down, Miss Frances”, was the first thing Mr. Herriman said as she entered his office. “We have some important issues to discuss this morning.”

Frankie did what she was told

“I know that the departure of Madame Foster still hangs heavy on us all” Herriman began, removing his top hat as he mentioned her name.

Frankie nodded. Her grandmother had died three weeks ago. She was nearly eighty-seven years old at the time, but that didn’t make it any less tragic. To her very last day, she remained as charming and cheerful as ever.

“But for some of us, life must go on. And especially for you, Miss Frances”

Frankie raised her eyebrows curiously. What exactly did he mean by that?

“We need to talk about the future, such as it is. Now, my plans are simple:  I will retire as President of Foster’s, effective immediately.”

“Retire?” Frankie hadn’t seen that coming.  “Uh, are you sure you won’t wait with that decision until tomorrow? That’s when Grandma’s will is being read.”

“That won’t be necessary, Miss Frances. The thing is…I had a private conversation with Madame Foster.” Again, Mr. Herriman removed his top hat as he mentioned her name. “Although she always put up a brave face, she knew several months ago that she was not long for this world. And so, she confided in me. She told me how she wanted things to be…”

Mr. Herriman paused for a moment and looked at the attentive Frankie.

“You get the house with its surroundings and all the belongings, on the one condition that Foster’s remains a home and a shelter for imaginary friends. The house is all yours, but you only get one-fourth of the savings. The rest goes into my pension fund.”

“Grandma made you a pension fund?”

“Precisely. Which means that she did not expect me to remain in my administrative position after her inevitable demise.”

“Are you sure that’s what she-“

Herriman waved his hand dismissively.

“She wanted you to have the house, you alone. Tell me Miss Frances…As the mistress, or – dare I use the word? – Madame of the house, would you let me remain in my current position of authority?”

Frankie sighed “No” she admitted. But I’d offer you the position of accountant and maybe…”

“Miss Frances, please, I’m too old to be demoted”, Mr. Herriman said without a trace of bitterness in his voice.

“Who’s talking about demotion? I don’t see why we can’t run Foster’s together as equals.”

“Equals?”  Mr. Herriman looked amused.  “Miss Frances, there’s an old Baltic saying: If you are the master and I am the master - who shall carry the basket? Foster’s Home can only have one master. Now tell me: When you become owner of the house, do you intend to continue spending your days doing menial tasks such as cooking and cleaning?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Or do you intend to sit back and let other people take care of the daily maintenance most of the time, like the Madame?” he asked, taking his hat off once again.

“No! I’m too young to retire.”

“Well, I’m not. So it looks as if you’re left with one choice: You must run things, Miss Frances.”

Frankie was all out of arguments. After all, how did you argue against someone who was trying to tell you that you had won?

“I think we have an agreement, Miss Frances. Now, if you would sign my resignation, please…?.”

Frankie slowly put her name on the resignation paper and the two copies.

“And thus ends my formal responsibilities to Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends”, Mr. Herriman declared and looked around. “I believe I’m sitting in what is now your chair, behind what is now your desk. We can’t have that, can we?” He got up, and started hopping towards the door.

“You’ll be seeing me around, obviously”, he added, stopping for a moment. “For one thing, I shall attend to the reading of the will tomorrow at noon. Ta-ta, Miss Frances.”

With those words, he left the flabbergasted Frankie alone in his…no, her office.

Frankie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. After all the years of being bossed around, Mr. Herriman was suddenly out of her hair, just like that. She felt she ought to have said something more profound. She should have told Mr. Herriman that while they may have had their differences, and while there were many times that he made her miserable, and while he could often be an overly bureaucratic and narrow-minded pain in the…come to think of it, maybe it was just as well that she didn’t try to say something profound. But the point was, for all their disagreements, Mr. Herriman did a good job at running Foster’s. That much was true. Come to think of it, the two of them usually worked rather well together, even if they often disagreed deeply. But of course, it was always easier to acknowledge such things in retrospective. For better or worse, Mr. Herriman was no longer in charge, and she…

It suddenly dawned upon Frankie that Foster’s Home was now her responsibility alone.

Well, if her grandmother thought she was ready for that kind of responsibility, she wasn’t going to let her down. But she was going to do things her own way.

***

Continued

Description
Chapter One:
Only One Master


Valentine’s Day:

“I can’t believe you’re going through all this trouble”, Frankie said.  And I can’t believe you talked me into helping you, she added in her mind. “Arranging this whole Valentine’s Day ball at Foster’s should be more than enough.”

“It’s a big step forward, dear, but they’re going to need one extra push. We need to get them all alone, with nowhere else to go. Now, is your car ready?”

“Yes, grandma.”

“And the tank?”

“As good as empty. They won’t get further than a couple of miles.”

“Excellent!” She leaned out the window “Oh, would you look at those storm clouds. The rain is going to come down hard tonight, just like the weatherman predicted. All for the better, of course. Oh, and here comes the main players”

Players? They’re the ones who are being played! Frankie thought as she watched Mac and Goo walk hand in hand towards the front door. She remembered that the first time she watched them hand in hand, she had been a little too quick to draw conclusions… “They do look cute together”, Frankie admitted.

“But…?”

“Are you reading my mind, grandma? Okay, I admit it - I think you’re being to manipulative.”

“Manipulative? If I tried to ruin the dates and relationships they’ve had with other people, now that would be manipulative! But they always did that by themselves. And you know why?”

“Tell me…” Frankie muttered.

“Because those other people weren’t right for them. They’re perfect for each other!”

“Perfect? Grandma, Goo is wild and impulsive while Mac is calm, careful and responsible.”

“Exactly! Gunilla needs someone to stop her when she goes too far, while Maxwell needs someone to show him how to have fun! They complement each other!”

Frankie hesitated. Well, in a way, that made sense. In a way.

Feeling that she had won the argument, Madame Foster confidently declared:

“I’m gonna get those two together, if it’s the last thing I do!”

“At this rate, grandma, it will be the last thing you do!”

Madame Foster laughed.

***

Four months later:

Madame Foster had laughed. But Frankie was closer to the truth than she had realised.

Please sit down, Miss Frances”, was the first thing Mr. Herriman said as she entered his office. “We have some important issues to discuss this morning.”

Frankie did what she was told

“I know that the departure of Madame Foster still hangs heavy on us all” Herriman began, removing his top hat as he mentioned her name.

Frankie nodded. Her grandmother had died three weeks ago. She was nearly eighty-seven years old at the time, but that didn’t make it any less tragic. To her very last day, she remained as charming and cheerful as ever.

“But for some of us, life must go on. And especially for you, Miss Frances”

Frankie raised her eyebrows curiously. What exactly did he mean by that?

“We need to talk about the future, such as it is. Now, my plans are simple:  I will retire as President of Foster’s, effective immediately.”

“Retire?” Frankie hadn’t seen that coming.  “Uh, are you sure you won’t wait with that decision until tomorrow? That’s when Grandma’s will is being read.”

“That won’t be necessary, Miss Frances. The thing is…I had a private conversation with Madame Foster.” Again, Mr. Herriman removed his top hat as he mentioned her name. “Although she always put up a brave face, she knew several months ago that she was not long for this world. And so, she confided in me. She told me how she wanted things to be…”

Mr. Herriman paused for a moment and looked at the attentive Frankie.

“You get the house with its surroundings and all the belongings, on the one condition that Foster’s remains a home and a shelter for imaginary friends. The house is all yours, but you only get one-fourth of the savings. The rest goes into my pension fund.”

“Grandma made you a pension fund?”

“Precisely. Which means that she did not expect me to remain in my administrative position after her inevitable demise.”

“Are you sure that’s what she-“

Herriman waved his hand dismissively.

“She wanted you to have the house, you alone. Tell me Miss Frances…As the mistress, or – dare I use the word? – Madame of the house, would you let me remain in my current position of authority?”

Frankie sighed “No” she admitted. But I’d offer you the position of accountant and maybe…”

“Miss Frances, please, I’m too old to be demoted”, Mr. Herriman said without a trace of bitterness in his voice.

“Who’s talking about demotion? I don’t see why we can’t run Foster’s together as equals.”

“Equals?”  Mr. Herriman looked amused.  “Miss Frances, there’s an old Baltic saying: If you are the master and I am the master - who shall carry the basket? Foster’s Home can only have one master. Now tell me: When you become owner of the house, do you intend to continue spending your days doing menial tasks such as cooking and cleaning?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Or do you intend to sit back and let other people take care of the daily maintenance most of the time, like the Madame?” he asked, taking his hat off once again.

“No! I’m too young to retire.”

“Well, I’m not. So it looks as if you’re left with one choice: You must run things, Miss Frances.”

Frankie was all out of arguments. After all, how did you argue against someone who was trying to tell you that you had won?

“I think we have an agreement, Miss Frances. Now, if you would sign my resignation, please…?.”

Frankie slowly put her name on the resignation paper and the two copies.

“And thus ends my formal responsibilities to Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends”, Mr. Herriman declared and looked around. “I believe I’m sitting in what is now your chair, behind what is now your desk. We can’t have that, can we?” He got up, and started hopping towards the door.

“You’ll be seeing me around, obviously”, he added, stopping for a moment. “For one thing, I shall attend to the reading of the will tomorrow at noon. Ta-ta, Miss Frances.”

With those words, he left the flabbergasted Frankie alone in his…no, her office.

Frankie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. After all the years of being bossed around, Mr. Herriman was suddenly out of her hair, just like that. She felt she ought to have said something more profound. She should have told Mr. Herriman that while they may have had their differences, and while there were many times that he made her miserable, and while he could often be an overly bureaucratic and narrow-minded pain in the…come to think of it, maybe it was just as well that she didn’t try to say something profound. But the point was, for all their disagreements, Mr. Herriman did a good job at running Foster’s. That much was true. Come to think of it, the two of them usually worked rather well together, even if they often disagreed deeply. But of course, it was always easier to acknowledge such things in retrospective. For better or worse, Mr. Herriman was no longer in charge, and she…

It suddenly dawned upon Frankie that Foster’s Home was now her responsibility alone.

Well, if her grandmother thought she was ready for that kind of responsibility, she wasn’t going to let her down. But she was going to do things her own way.

***

Continued