The meeting proceeded at a satisfactory pace, with Susan delegating duties to the various groups and individuals while Milo beat back any dissenting opposition. With a final call for a vote, the motions were approved and Amanda was asked to read back the minutes.

A swell of debate, mixed with grumbling and enthusiasm broke out, as the gathering splintered off, huddling with those receiving like assignments. Ellen and Denise found themselves paired with Patty and Felicity, whose husband volunteered her services in absentia, as the Jubilee decorators and costumers. Serge, Antonio, Darlene, and Henry drew the naturally designated, hair and makeup assignments.

Assignments for the handling of sets and lighting were assigned to Ross, Jean, and Carlos Begarra; the latter guaranteed to comply once again, by his father. Nigel, who had tried to slink into a corner of the large room, a manoeuvre thwarted by his aunt, was awarded the prestigious role of emcee, to the utter devastation of a silently choking, Milo.

Nigel, Susan, Melaine and Tiffany, would also draft the list of those riding in the parade, and the order in which they would appear. Susan made a short report on the special guests who accepted invitations, and with an ear-splitting, 'Eeeeeew!', intended as a rallying cheer, she closed the meeting.

Shifting Gertrude away from the den entrance, Arthur stepped to the front of the room, hands aloft. "Ladies and gentlemen," he waved his arms, turning in a small circle, "your attention please. I believe Susan has completed the meeting's agenda—" She nodded with eager politeness. "—and I must say, has done a fine job for such a daunting challenge."

He paused, encouraging a round of applause. "As much as I dread the thought of having to wear gold chains and belled-bottomed trousers, I speak with confidence when I say that this Jubilee will be a bright feather in the cap of the Ashton Hills community, and a well deserved tribute to our beloved theatre." Another spattering of applause.

"Thank you. Now, since many of you have never been to my home before, and likely won't have this opportunity again, I would be pleased if you feel free to finish your evening at your own pace; enjoy this room and the grounds, and assist Hartley and our volunteer barman, Henry, by availing yourselves of their talents." He dropped his arms and adjusted his jacket. "The only thing I ask is that I find none of you here in the morning." Arthur chuckled at the group, shining a pleasant smile on their astonished faces, and waiting unperturbed until they split off, seeking equally bewildered, allies.

"I'm not sure if that was a generous invitation or a very subtle put down." Peter suggested.

"I think it was both—and not so subtle." Melaine declared, receiving nods and shrugs from her companions.

"Well I'm taking advantage of the generous part," Tiffany stated with a wink, and headed straight for the bar, Arthur's comment negating any possibility of a tour.

Milo navigated the furniture and the milling crowd, stalking out to the patio to stand and stare angrily out over the vista of Paisley Park.

"Why the long face this time?" Melaine asked, drifting away from the others to join him.

"It's bloody outrageous," he fumed, "making Stainway master of ceremonies. I'm the head of the town council, not him."

Melaine looked imploringly to the night sky. "Give it over, Milo, you are going to be one of the dignitaries in the parade."

"As I should be—and that's not the point..." He huffed and puffed, moving stiffly to a new location.

She followed, glancing back to see that they were alone. "I know what the point is. It's on top of your egotistical head." Her voice was harsh and low. "You always have to be front and centre. The great Milo Braithwaite. Community, God the Father."

He glared at her, his face a mix of disdain and embarrassment, mottling red in the soft glow of the patio lights. "I fail to see why one's civic pride and dedication shouldn't necessarily equate with one's, perceived, self-image."

"Jesus! Just listen to you!" She turned and sat on the stone wall, shaking her head. "I'm almost worried that I didn't wear rubber boots." Milo took an angry step toward her, halting and forcing a calm smile as Susan tripped toward those coming from the living room.

"Melaine, I want to fix a time and date for a meeting with our group." She paused, sensing the tension. "Uhm, maybe you could give me a call tomorrow."

"No, now's just fine." She gave Milo a weary glance. "I was just saying to Milo that he should probably be in one of the prominent carriages, since he's the head of the council."

"Oh absolutely," Susan perked up, "that's a given." The two women strolled away, arm in arm, leaving a stunned and humiliated Milo to pick his jaw up from the floor.

"I'm quite excited about this," Patty said to Ellen and Denise.

"Well these town council inspired events have certainly generated plenty of that in the past." Denise commented, smiling toward Ellen.

"What's Felicity Proctor like?" Ellen asked.

"Oh, she seems quite nice. I don't really know her that well, we moved a few doors down from them and Gavin and Peter got to know one another right away. You know, mowing lawns and building fences. She's an artist... a painter."

"Her husband mentioned that earlier. She any good?" Denise said, with interest.

"Peter says she has some things in the gallery downtown. I haven't seen any of them. But..."

"I hope she doesn't mind being pressed into service without being asked." Ellen worried.

"Who's got a pressing service?" Gavin joked, joining their conversation.

"Hi, we were just wondering how Felicity would take to you volunteering her services for our committee." Patty answered.

"No sweat." Gavin said confidently. "After Friday morning, her calendar's clear." The three women traded doubtful glances. "Say uhh," he stepped closer lowering his voice, "do uh- do you know this Serge character very well?"

"Why?" Ellen.

Gavin blushed, and looked around. "It's just that- well, I think he was- was coming on to me earlier." His cheeks flamed at their joint grins.

"I wouldn't doubt it." Denise, grinning wider.

"Serge is very nice," Ellen stepped in to defend, "he's a wonderful hairdresser."

"And bent to boot." Denise laughed. "Maybe you should speak to Antonio and see how he handles situations with his partner."

"They're... partners?" Gavin.

"Business only. Antonio owns the funeral parlour but he and Serge run a cosmetic service from the back of Fawn Do."

"Fawn Do, that's his shop, Serge's."

"Right. Come to think of it," Denise teased, "I'm not surprised a good-looking fellow like you attracted old Serge." Gavin cringed at the thought.

"Leave him alone, Denny," Ellen scolded, "she's just kidding, Gavin."

"Are you saying this Serge person is gay?" Patty's naïve question brought a return of blank, disbelieving stares.