LupinsGirlSA asked if I might write a Clarisse and Joseph story that paid homage to the classic English comedy sketch "Dinner For One." I am always up for some Clarisse and Joseph, but I had not seen what I soon after learned is a very famous show and a New Year's tradition for many people. It's an amusing little story, performed by Freddie Frinton and May Warden, about a woman who wants to celebrate her birthday with her friends, but having obtained an advanced age, she has outlived them all. I was delighted to find it online, and after watching it, I eventually came up with this. It is not wholly necessary to have seen "Dinner For One" before you read this story, but I would recommend it, as it will place everything in the proper context. Besides, the show is great fun.

There are also bits of Hector in here (because I love him!) - a quote, and a reference to his acting lessons sponsored by the Joy2Learn Foundation (also online).

In other words, none of this is mine. And if it were, I'd give it to LupinsGirlSA.

Thanks for stopping by to read!

December was a busy month for monarchs, priests, and college students.

Clarisse's schedule was always filled to the brim with public appearances and festivities. Pierre was tied up with confessions and Advent activities that culminated in presiding over a crush of Christmas services. The moment she was finished with finals, Mia was en route to Genovia to accompany the Queen as she navigated her hectic agenda.

By the time Christmas was over, Clarisse was exhausted and ready for some peace and quiet. Pierre usually found his way home to Pyrus a day or two after Christmas, but had to be back at his parish for the holy day of obligation that fell on New Year's. Mia was sometimes able to wrangle a few extra days to enjoy a little down time with her grandmother; but often she felt guilty about neglecting her mother over the holidays, and rushed off to spend the last of her break in San Francisco.

Clarisse savored the quiet, but it was in the quiet that she felt the sudden solitude - the lack of constant, cheery chatter from her granddaughter, the absence of her son's subtle, comforting humor.

The empty spaces around the dinner table.

There were two bright and constant spots that brought her solace as the year wound down: Joseph and the annual broadcast of "Dinner For One." Unfortunately, the two were not compatible.

Clarisse settled into the sofa with a contented sigh and a glass of wine just before show time. Joseph settled next to her - and almost right on top of Fat Louie. Neither the man nor the cat was pleased with this, and after a yowl of displeasure, Mia's cat disappeared in a flash of fur and claws.

Joseph rubbed the back of his thigh where Fat Louie had managed to land a swipe before vanishing. "I'm going to kill that cat."

"Don't be so dramatic. It can't hurt that badly. He didn't even snag your trousers."

"Why is he staying here again?" Joseph lamented. "He's always underfoot."

"That wasn't your foot he was under." She deflected his irritated glare with a wave of her hand. "He's not a kitten anymore. He doesn't bounce back from airplane rides that criss-cross continents in a matter of days."

Joseph made a point of checking his cushion in an exaggerated fashion before plopping down on it.

Clarisse didn't care that he was in a foul mood. It would pass quickly enough - it always did - and she didn't want it to encroach on her happiness. She snuggled into his shoulder, and he eagerly obliged her by wrapping his arm around her. Comfortably situated, she waited for the show to start.

She wasn't surprised when Joseph started first.

"I don't understand. It's slapstick! How can it possibly be funny when you've seen it a hundred times and know what's coming?"

"I watch it once a year," she responded coolly. "As I am far from being a century old, I do not appreciate your estimate of 'a hundred times.'"

"Furthermore, why do you of all people like it? Slapstick doesn't fit you."

"It's much more than that. There is a great deal of subtlety in it as well, and brilliant comedic timing."

He quirked his eyebrows and shot her a skeptical sideways glance as he raised his wineglass. "Slapstick," he mumbled into the drink.

"I once heard a very talented actor declare that you're at the top of your game if you can do comedy."

"Othello," he retorted haughtily. "Now that's the top of one's game. And there's something else -"

"I'm sure there is."

He ignored her sarcastic drawl. "Why do Genovians count some bit of English comedy among their most treasured traditions?"

"We have good taste, and recognize art when we see it."

He opened his mouth, then shut it again as he considered her poorly concealed smirk. At last, he said, "You know I have many things to say to that, don't you?"

"I hope you have nothing more to say about anything. It's starting now."

Clarisse tuned out her companion's sighs and murmured criticisms, and let herself be caught up in the genius of the actors as they wielded straight faces and clever dialogue. She laughed heartily, and thought she heard a chuckle or two from Joseph, although she wasn't sure if he was affected by the show or relishing her unself-conscious mirth.

The last line was barely delivered when Joseph exclaimed, "Finally! I'm glad that's over for another three-hundred sixty-four days."

"I'm glad I don't have to be subjected to your obnoxious running commentary for another three-hundred sixty-four days." There was a pause before she added dryly, "At least, on that subject."

"Ha!"

She turned to face him squarely. "You know this is what I do every New Year's Eve. If it's so annoying to you, why don't you find some other things to do?"

He looked hurt. "Because I want to spend the holiday with you." He frowned. "It's just I'm sure we can spend it doing more agreeable things."

"Such as…?"

He took a deep breath as he considered their options. "Well," he began, nodding to the substantial bottle of wine on the coffee table before them, "we could start there. We could put on some music, drink that bottle until we can hardly dance, then retire to the privacy of your bedroom where we spend the rest of the night doing wonderfully wicked things to each other. Then we wake up in the brand new year with headaches and far too little sleep, and pretend it's because we're two old people who had trouble staying up until midnight."

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "In other words, the same procedure as last year, Joseph?"

He grinned and reached for the bottle to refill her glass. "The same procedure as every year, my queen."

The End

I wish for all of you the things that bring true peace and real happiness as this year finishes and the new one begins.