When I declined a freshly baked blueberry muffin (Leroy’s mozzarella stick lingered in more places than my memory) Ursi asked me if I was off my feed. “No, Ursi, just trying to keep in sparring form. Like Don Quixote I’m off to do battle with a windmill.” “I never saw a windmill in Palm Beach,” Ursi observed. “It’s just a figure of speech, compliments of Mr. Cervantes.” “Cervantes? I don’t know him, Archy.” “I would venture to say, Ursi, few in Palm Beach know him either. But you do know most of the families that comprise the upper echelons of our island.” “I know the people they employ,” Ursi corrected me. “And do you know that Kate Mulligan works for an agency called Temporarily Yours?” “Yes, I do, Archy. She’s mentioned it.” Finishing my second cup of coffee, I implored our Ursi, “Do me a favor, please, and call around to your friends and see if you can learn how many other households in town are using temp help from that agency.” Given an excuse to trade gossip put a smile on our Ursi’s face.
