7.2 Frannie Needs a Nanny

by

Kate the Dreamer
(Dreamkate1@aol.com)
Fran and Sylvia scene provided by Jen (aka Val)

"Honey, I'm back from the studio. You'll never guess who I've gotten to head up casting..." Maxwell announced as he walked through the front door. His happy disposition was replaced by shock as he found himself face to face with a mountain of boxes formerly known as the living room. "Fran?"

"Yes Max?" Fran piped up, hidden somewhere amongst the boxes.

"Darling...what's going on?" Max said, strain in his voice as he tried his best to stay calm.

"Um..." You could almost hear the gears turning in Fran's head as she searched for an explanation.

Maxwell set his briefcase down in the foyer, loosened his tie, and began the search for his wife in the cardboard jungle. He found her sprawled across the floor amidst piles of clothing, scrapbooks and old keepsakes.

"Hi Sweetie!" Fran said as she glanced up nonchalantly and smiled at her husband. "How was your day?"

"Well, I got Lieberman and Hirshfield signed up officially to do casting for the show."

"That's great Max," said Fran, stabbing a metal nail file into the next box.

Max shook his head and refocused himself. "Darling, I don't suppose you'd like to share how our living room has become cardboard box central?" he said, gesturing to the mess. "I thought we already unpacked everything."

"So did I, but I forgot the second shipment... my stuff," she said, smiling sheepishly.

Maxwell sighed loudly. After six years of living with Fran he really should start expecting things like this.

"Where are the children?"

"Oh, the twins are..." Fran stopped short as she glanced around the room and into a couple of boxes. "Oh, no no wait..." she breathed a sigh of relief. "The twins are upstairs taking a nap. Gracie's watching them."

Max leaned over to give his wife a hello kiss.

"Oh Honey, look what I found," Fran said, producing a large black and white photo from one of the boxes.

"Oh isn't that sweet," Max said as she held up a picture of what looked like a young Fran dressed in vintage forties clothing. "Is that you at some sort of costume party?"

"Um no, it's Ma. Isn't it funny how much we look alike?"

"Oy," Maxwell said as he pondered the consequences of his wife's gene pool. Fran shot him a dirty look. "How nice, I...I...I'm going to go upstairs now and check on the kids," Maxwell quickly added, backing out of the room.

* * *

"Hello Sweetheart," he said, walking into the nursery.

"Hi Daddy," Gracie said, glancing up from her book. "Perfect timing, the twins look like they are about to wake up."

Max leaned over to pick up Jonah. "Hello, my baby boy," he cooed. "Gracie would you do me a favour and help me take the babies down to Fran?"

"Sure Daddy," Gracie said, scooping up her baby sister Eve from the crib and heading downstairs.

Maxwell started to chuckle as Jonah latched firmly on to Max's finger and began to suck. "I hope you're not expecting anything to come from that finger," he laughed. "I know what you want. " He walked out the room passing the baby intercom. "I want the same thing."

Downstairs, Fran let out a loud nasal honk as she heard Max's comment through the baby monitor.

* * *

* * *

Tonight's episode has been brought to you by:

* * *

"Fran, the brochures from the schools came today," Gracie announced as she dropped the mail on the kitchen table.

"OK, sweetie, lemme just set up the babies with bottles and we'll look at them together. You know, this breast pump thingie makes me feel like a mass production all you can eat buffet." She detached the breast suction cup from the container and poured milk into each of the bottles. She left the container on the counter.

"Hello, my favorite ladies," Maxwell announced as he entered the kitchen, empty coffee mug in hand. "Don't mind me, I'm just here for a refill and then, I'll be out of your way." He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot and before Fran could stop him, added in the remainder of the breast milk.

"Honey..." Fran protested.

"Oh Fran, I am sorry that you can't drink coffee while your breast feeding. But it doesn't mean the rest of us shouldn't enjoy it."

"But sweetie..." she said as Max stirred, "It's just that..."

"Back to work I go."

Maxwell made it half way out the door and half way through the cup before Fran announced, "You just put breast milk in your coffee."

The coffee spewed from his mouth as Max showered the kitchen wall. Attempting to save what was left of his dignity, he placed the cup on the counter, wiped his mouth with disgust and slumped out the door.

"Well well well, he won't drink the milk, meanwhile he's awfully fond of the container...go figure. So Gracie, about those schools..."

"Well, I think I've narrowed it down to these: Marlborough, Marymount and Harvard-Westlake," Grace said with an unenthusiastic sigh.

"Honey, you don't sound too happy with those choices. What's the matta'? You miss your old school back in New York?"

"Uh...well, it's just..."

"Come on Gracie, you know you can tell me."

"Fran, I've attended private schools all my life. I'm sick of the snooty kids and the stuck up uniforms." Grace took in a deep breath. "I want to go to public school."

"Honey," Fran said, giving Gracie a squeeze, "If you want to go to public school, then you go to public school. Besides," she said under her breath, "It'll save us a bundle."

"I don't think I can."

"Give me one good reason."

"He's in his office."

"Your father? You just leave him to me."

* * *

"Hi Max, got a sec?" Fran said, entering the office in black leather pants you could see her pancreas in.

"What is it sweetheart?" Max said. "I'm terribly busy." He glanced up and when he saw what Fran was wearing, stopped writing mid sentence. He flashed her a huge grin as she sauntered over to his desk and pounced into his lap.

"Fran...Darling... I..." Maxwell managed to say between kisses. "What are you trying to finagle me into doing?" he said after the fourth time they came up for air.

Fran pulled herself up from his lap and perched on the edge of the desk.

"It's about Gracie..."

"She's all right, isn't she?" Max interjected.

"Oh yes of course. Max, she's growing up. She's not the same precocious six year old girl I met when I started as the Nanny." She paused.

"Yes?"

"She's ready to take on more responsibility, and make her own decisions..."

"Is this about decorating her room, because I really don't mind..."

"No...she can?" Fran refocused herself. "No no, Max..."

Just then the phone rang. "Hold that thought," Max announced as he picked up the receiver. "Hello. Mr. Shaw, thank you for returning my call. Yes. Yes. Just a second." Maxwell placed his hand over the receiver as he grabbed a pad and paper off the desk. "I'm sorry Fran, I have to take this. I won't be long."

Fran plopped herself on the couch as Max continued his phone conversation. She pulled out a nail file and waited. She fiddled with the baby monitor strapped to her hip and waited. She fixed her hair, and waited.

"OK darling, I'm sorry about that. Rick needed to give me some numbers. Normally Niles would have taken the call but..." his voice trailed off. "Anyway, I'm all yours. You were saying?"

"Yes, Gracie wants..."

Just then two plaintive wails emanated from the baby monitor that let everyone know once and for all exactly what vocal gene pool those two babies were from.

"You want to get them or shall I?" Max inquired. Just then the phone rang again.

"I'll get them."

* * *

"Sheesh, where the heck is she?" Fran sighed loudly as she dragged the double stroller back down the ramp and out of the bingo room. "We've looked everywhere."

"Fran, doesn't your mother mind living in a retirement community with Yetta?"

"Well, she did until she discovered that it has a Flushing mecca....a pool! Oh wait, The POOL!"

"Excuse me Miss," yelled a man in his late thirties. "You can't enter this part of the complex with that baby carriage. The pool found here is over eight feet deep and well, we do not want to have any accidents on our hands."

"Oh please let us in," Fran pleaded. "My daughter Gracie and I have been walking around this place for over an hour looking for my mother. You see, she has an appointment with a director of a possible school in thirty minutes and well, I need my mother to watch the babies for me so I can go with her to the meeting. Please, this is the only place that I haven't checked. Just let us go in and take a fast look."

"I am sorry Ma'am, I just can't do that. It's against company policy. The only thing I can do for you is to check the sign in list. All those who enter this particular pool area must sign this sheet. Tell me your mother's last name and I will check for you."

Fran let out a small sigh. "The name is Fine, F- I- N- E."

The man had a shocked expression on his face. "Would your mother's name by any chance be Sylvia Fine?"

Fran's face lit up. "Yeah that's her! Have you seen her today?"

"Well ma'am to tell you the truth I see her everyday. But after yesterday's episode I'm thinking that the only reason she comes here is for the all you can eat buffet that we serve from 11 AM to 3 PM."

Fran was embarrassed but she had to ask, "What did my mother do yesterday?"

"Well ma'am we were getting reports from the other residents that she was taking food from the buffet and hiding it in her pocket book, as well as some other bags she had brought with her." He paused."It ended up that she had to be physically removed from the pool area. She has been barred from this area for the next month.

Fran's face was now beet red. "What did you say her name was again?"

"Sylvia, Sylvia Fine."

"Oh, I thought you said Cynthia. My mother's name is Cynthia. The woman you are talking about couldn't possibly be my mother, sorry for the inconvenience. Bye."

Fran took hold of the double stroller and quickly walked away. Just then she heard Gracie's voice in the distance.

"Fran I found Sylvia, your mother."

Fran thought to herself, "Oy, does her voice have to carry that much? When I first met her she was such a quiet child, who's she been hanging out with?"

Fran walked in the direction of Gracie's voice and found her mother sitting on one of the lounge chairs taking the sun, a table full of goodies within her reach.

"Hi, Ma, I've been looking all ova for you."

Sylvia turned her head to greet Fran. "Oh hi Darling." She then turned her attention toward the carriage, where the twins had just awakened from an afternoon nap. "Well hello my darlings. Are you ready to spend the afternoon with Grandma?"

Jonah smiled and cooed at Sylvia while Eve began to cry loudly. Sylvia looked at Fran and pointing to Eve inquired, "What's the matta with her?"

"Well ma, I guess she must be ready for her next feeding, although she only ate about thirty minutes ago."

Sylvia looked a little puzzled, "Are you sure Fran, I mean the kid sure doesn't look like she's starving."

Fran picked Eve out of the stroller, sat down in the chair next to Sylvia and proceeded to feed her daughter as she continued talking. "Look whose talking Mrs's I-have-to-eat-every-five-minutes-or-my-blood-sugar-drops. You certainly don't look like you're starving either, I mean where do you think she gets it from?"

Sylvia shot Fran a dirty look. "Meanwhile, you haven't even noticed that I lost five more pounds."

Fran tried to contain her amusment,"What, did you go for a hair cut yesterday Ma? Ah Ha."

"No, I didn't go for a hair cut. I know, I must have lost weight because your father was extremely turned on last night. I don't think I have seen him that excited since...." She paused. "Well, come to think of it, I don't think I have ever seen him that excited before."

Fran shifted Eve to the other breast and let out a big sigh. "Ma, I'm sorry to have to be the one to break this to you but I think the reason Daddy was so excited last night was because they just added a new station to the cable network out here."

Sylvia looked up at her daughter and then down at the table next to her. She picked up a Baby Ruth bar and started opening up the ends. "Well, then I guess eating this now won't make a difference." With that, she bit into the chocolate bar. While she was chewing she added, "So sweetheart, how is my favorite son-in-law?"

Fran seemed to perk up when she heard her mother's question. "Actually Ma, I am glad you brought that up. Max is fine but you see, we seem to be having some communication difficulties."

Sylvia's voice became harsh, "What have I always told you Fran? If you don't have communication, you don't have a marriage. Just look at me and Daddy. Do you want to end up like that!" Fran shook her head, obviously flustered, "No, Ma you don't understand what I mean. Max and I are not having marital problems. It's just that every time I try to talk to him, we keep getting interrupted."

Just then Jonah started crying. Fran interjected, "People's exhibit A." She handed Eve to her mother to burp, picked up Jonah from the carriage and continued, "I just never thought that being a full time mother and housewife could be so hard. "Sometimes I feel so over..." Fran was interrupted by the alarm on her beeper signaling that it was 1:15pm and she had only fifteen minutes to get Gracie to the school for her appointment. Placing Jonah back in the carriage, Fran jumped up in a rush, "Oy Ma, I have to go. Are you sure you don't mind taking care of the twins for a few hours?"

"No sweetheart I don't mind but just remember, I might not always be here to watch them." She paused, then continued, "You know I have a very busy schedule, breakfast, lunch, dinner and those are just the main meals."

Fran pretended not to hear her mother's last comment. "Ma, where did Gracie go?" No sooner did she speak those words than Gracie appeared in the distance. Fran called out to her, "Honey, hurry up or we'll be late for your meeting."

"I'm sorry Fran, I had to walk Grandma Yetta to the bingo lounge. You know how easily she gets lost." Fran and Gracie shared a small laugh at this last comment and then said a quick goodbye to Sylvia and the babies before heading out.

As they walked back to the car Fran thought about the last comment her mother had said. What would she have done if Sylvia hadn't agreed to watch the twins for a few hours? The more she pondered this, the more upset she became. She thought to herself, "There has to be a easier way."

* * *

"Fran, are you sure Dad's okay with this?" Gracie asked, as they stepped in the front door of Beverly Hills High School.

"Um, sure honey," Fran said with a over-enthusiastic smile.

"You didn't ask him did you?"

"Well..."

"Fran!"

"Don't worry Gracie, he won't say no. It just seems every time I try to sit down and have a conversation lately, something always comes up. I used to be your Nanny, and all I had to do was take care of you three kids. Now I'm your mommy and I have you and two new kids. Basically, being your Mommy is a lot like being your Nanny, except now I don't get paid. Not to mention the cleaning and the cooking..."

"Fran, you don't clean, you hired a cleaning lady who comes in three times a week when Daddy's at the club."

"Well, it's still hard work...keeping Maria from your father. I don't know how much longer he's going to believe I spend 50 dollars an hour on laundry service alone."

"And I can't remember the last time we had home cooked food. My room is overflowing with Happy meal toys."

"Your point being?"

"Ask Daddy about my school."

"I will, but just think how much more receptive he'll be after he learns we already visited the school and can tell him how wonderful it is."

"I guess."

"Here we are, the principal's office." Fran put her hand on the doorknob. "You know Gracie, I know it's been a good..." Fran stopped short and recollected her slipping age, "ten, ten years since I've been in High School, but I gotta tell you, the Principal's Office still gives me the creeps." They entered the office.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. Sheffield and this is my daughter Grace. We're here to see Mr. Jacobson."

"Yes, yes," the secretary waved them through, "He's expecting you."

Just then Fran's cell phone rang.

"Gracie, you go in. I'll be in there in just a second." Fran fished her phone out of her purse.

"Hello it's Fran-ella"

"Hello Fran."

"Hi Max, what's up?"

"Trouble in paradise...I don't think the execs at the network liked our pilot concept very much."

"Sweetie, it can't be that bad. What were their exact words?"

"Max, we don't like your pilot concept."

"Oy."

"Wait, it gets worse. Honey...I'm afraid I've done something you're not going to like."

"What?" Fran said warily.

"I invited the studio execs over to our house for a dinner party."

"Oh is that all," Fran said with a sigh of relief. "That's not a problem. I'll just call the caterer..."

"Tonight."

"YOU WHAT!" Fran said, trying to contain her voice as the secretary eyed her suspiciously.

"It all happened so fast. I went down to the studio to talk about the show. I was sitting in the office with Rick Shaw and a couple other big wigs from the network. Turns out the test pilot we shot went over awfully bad with the test group. So they want to revamp the whole show. I began to get even more jittery, I mean, I thought they were firing me. I started telling them about you and the kids and the new house, I mean, so they'd take pity on us. And well, it somehow turned in to them all inviting themselves to dinner tonight, " Max said, without skipping a beat.

"And you chose now, at 3:30 in the afternoon to tell me about it?"

"I've only just gotten out of the meeting darling. Please oh please tell me you can do this."

Fran could hear the desperation in her husband's voice and she knew how much this meant to him. She heard herself agreeing, although she had no idea how she was going to pull this off. She said goodbye to Max and headed into the office.

* * *

* * *

The meeting at the school had gone well, despite Fran's preoccupation with this dinner party she had now agreed to plan. Luckily Gracie had a ton of questions to ask about the school and Fran spent most of her time pondering which catering service she could call that could prepare a dinner for thirty some odd studio heads, actors, and their spouses on such short notice. Fran could see by the grin plastered across Grace's face after they finished the school tour that she had made the right decision. How could Max be upset at her for a choice that obviously made his daughter very happy. As they coasted home in the town car, Fran set out calling catering service after catering service. Each had the same response, 'We would love to help you out Mrs. Sheffield, but I'm afraid we simply don't have the staff for such a late order.'

By the time they stopped off to pick up the twins and got home she had called Abrams to Zabaar's and no one could be bothered with such a request so late in the day.

"Oh my god, Gracie, what am I going to do?" Fran implored as the two carried the twins' car seats back into the house.

"Why don't you call Niles?" Gracie said simply.

"My god, why don't I call Niles?" Fran exclaimed as she kissed Gracie on the top of the head with gratitude. She set the twins down on the blanket she sprawled on the floor and picked up the phone.

"Hi Niles, it's Fran."

"No introductions necessary, I'd know those adenoids anywhere....Hello, Mrs. Sheffield."

She could hear Niles put the strain on her married name and right away she knew why.

"Did CC just walk in the house?"

"Of course."

"Niles, I need an awfully big favor."

"What, you forgot to tape The Young and The Restless?"

"No, I need you to be the old Niles again, just for one night..." Fran blurted out the whole mess about the dinner party and her awful luck with caterers. Had she been at Niles and CC's she would have seen a smile slowly spread across Niles' face as she described her predicament. Niles quickly agreed and said he would be right over.

"What's the matter with Nanny Fine, she can't live not knowing what happened to Snapper yesterday?"

"No," he said, reaching for his coat, "She needs me to cater a party at her house tonight. Seems Maxwell's meeting with the executives this morning didn't go over as well as he expected."

"Damn, I knew I should have gone with him. I should find an obstetrician closer to the house. I was stuck in traffic for hours."

"Next time you're stuck dear, suck your stomach in," Niles said with a wink.

CC laughed and threw her jacket at Niles, who deftly caught it and threw it on the couch. Being married didn't seem to soften them a bit. Niles yanked her down onto the couch where they embraced. He pulled her into his lap and proceeded to plant kisses down her body. He stopped when he got to her stomach, where he glanced up, grinned proudly and laid a big kiss right on her navel.

CC reveled in the joy Niles had in proclaiming fatherhood. She wasn't even showing yet and he already had the plans to decorate the nursery and had bought a whole library of books about children. Nanny Fine had even sent over a box of maternity clothes, though CC was quite sure she would never wear them. So it stayed where it was, with the rest of the half opened boxes. Niles had insisted he wanted to set up the house himself. It was after all, their first home together and he wanted to make it special. She also knew that he still felt guilty about not being able to help out more with the payments, and so she reluctantly let him. Meanwhile, things kept coming up that prevented either one of them from getting much work done. The sitcom kept CC at the studio pretty regularly and besides, she didn't exactly have the Martha Stewart gene in her. Hiring a butler had only served to keep the house a tidier jumble and hadn't made Niles very happy. Niles somehow always managed to be off doing something. Either it was cooking or shopping or visiting Nanny Fine, something always managed to keep him busy throughout the day so at the end of the day when they came home they were both too tired to do much of anything... well, maybe some things.

"I'm off to the Sheffield's."

Well, today CC was going to bring it up.

"Niles, before you go, we need to talk about the organization of this house."

Niles, who was preoccupied with thinking of the dinner plan and what groceries he would need to pick up on the way, only half heard what CC said.

"Sure, organization. It's just there isn't anyone to help out..."

"So you think hiring someone else is the answer?"

"Yes, although finding someone to replace me..."

CC was already on a roll and upstairs to her office to look up numbers of agencies. So she didn't hear Niles say "at the Sheffield's." Niles rushed out the door. Upstairs CC was already on the phone with Maxwell being filled in on the afternoon's events and planning pitches for that evening's soirée.

Niles couldn't help but be thrilled at Fran's request. Everything had happened so fast these past couple of months. The twins, his marriage, CC's pregnancy and the move out to California had sent him into a whirlwind. So much so that at the hospital that night when CC had finally agreed to marry him, it hadn't even occurred to him that it meant he would no longer work for the Sheffield's. Despite all the talk he had done over the years about making more of himself than a butler, he was surprised at how attached he was to the Sheffield home. He loved CC and he was sure marrying her was the right decision, but he couldn't help but miss his old life. Being 'the old Niles', even if just for an evening made him happy.

* * *

"Niles, you don't know how much this means to me," Fran kvelled as she pulled a rack of hors d'oeuvres from the oven. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"I'd be glad to... fill in the zeros," Niles said with a wink as he put the last touches on the crab puffs and cut the brie which was sitting on the counter.

"Are you guys ready?" Fran called up the back stairs.

Gracie came tottering down, dressed in black pants and a white collared shirt, tying an apron around her waist. As she finished tying the knot Fran grabbed a brush and pulled her hair into a neat bun.

"Where are your friends?"

"They're coming."

Following their unheard cue, two other girls in matching outfits to Grace's made their way down the stairs.

"Fran, this is Jenny and Maddie, they live down the street."

"Oh girls, I'm so grateful you're helping us out."

"No problem, Mrs. Sheffield."

"I thought after a year of being called Mrs. the thrill of it would wear off." She paused. "Nope, still digging it."

She smiled as she matched up the three girls and checked their outfits.

"OK, looks like everything is going right on schedule," Niles interjected. "The food is keeping warm in the oven, I've got loads of nosh, and the guests should be arriving soon."

"What about booze?"

"I let the expert handle that."

"Hello, hello," CC annouced, bounding in the door followed by a bartender pushing several crates of liquor.

CC led him into the living room to set up as Max came into the kitchen.

"My, my," Max said, surveying the scene, "You never cease to amaze me."

"Well," Fran said blushing,"I..."

"Good show old man," Max beamed, patting Niles on the back.

Just then the bell rang. "I'll go let our first guests in," Max announced as he walked towards the front door. Fran gave him a quick squeeze for luck as he fished a Tums out from his pocket.

* * *

Most of the guests had arrived and were mingling in and around the living room and by the pool when Fran decided it was a good time to make her entrance. She swept into the garden wearing a short navy blue cocktail dress, conservatively cut just above the knee. Well, conservative for her at any rate. A small fuzzy cardigan and a simple string of pearls completed the look. After nine months of feeling like Shamu, she was glad to have all eyes on her as she sauntered across the pool area and towards Max.

"Hi Honey."

"Hello Darling, these are the executive producers for the show. Rob, Pru, I'd like you to meet my lovely wife Fran."

"Pleased to meet you." They shook hands.

Max could see CC signaling him from across the room. "If you would excuse me."

"So Fran, how did you and Max meet?"

"Oh ya know, it's the funniest story. See, I was working in a bridal shop in Flushing, Queens. Well, my boyfriend kicked me out in, oh gosh, a crushing scene. So I went over the bridge from Flushing to Manhattan selling door to door to cosmetics. When I got to Max's door, I discovered he needed a Nanny and well, I needed a job...and five years later we were married. Well, I make it sound simpler than it is. Believe you me, it was the longest 5 years of my life."

"Sounds like quite an ordeal," Pru commented.

"You have no idea."

"You lived together for five years....and nothing?" questioned the man who had been standing next to them. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear."

"Fran, this is Rick Shaw," Pru interjected. "Rick, this is Max's wife Fran."

The two shook hands as Rick urged her to continue.

"Well maybe 'nothing' would be the wrong phrase. I mean, there was always this chemistry between us. The utz was there, it just got over shadowed by our fears."

"What's an utz?" inquired the woman who was standing on the other side of the table examining a crab puff. "I'm Caryn by the way, Caryn Lucas, one of the writers." More hand shaking.

"An utz is that feeling, ya know, deep inside your stomach. It's that moment when your feelings are so strong they are beyond words. Not to be confused with the feeling in your stomach when you're beyond full."

The crowd laughed. And it was indeed becoming a crowd. As Fran continued to share moments from her life with "Mr. Sheffield", the people at the party became increasingly interested in what she had to say.

"So let me get this straight," said Frank Lombardi, who like all good writers do when they are inspired, was taking notes. "You were on your way to deliver Elizabeth Taylor's black pearls, in a cab, when the driver stopped short and you banged your head on the divider and got amnesia?"

"That's right," said Fran, proudly displaying the small bump on her head which was all that was left of that harrowing experience.

"And so you thought that you were married to Max and got naked in a Jacuzzi with him?" said Caryn.

"And you thought he was Pierce Brosnan?" added Rob.

"And still nothing happened?" exclaimed Rick.

"That's right, nothing happened between us until Paris."

"You got together in Paris, how romantic," said Pru.

"Well...not quite. You see, Max flew to Paris to try to talk his younger brother out of investing in this night club. Well, on his way out the door he took the wrong bag. So instead of taking clothes with him, he accidentally took CC's sedated dog Chester."

"How did that happen?"

"I gave it to him," Fran said with a sheepish grin. "Well anyway, as any good friend would do, I raced after him to the airport to try to switch the bags."

"So he invited you to come along to Paris while you were there?"

"Invited along, got stuck in the closet of the 747, whatever."

Fran sipped her champagne. Across the garden, CC and Max noticed they were in the wrong circle of people. They mingled their way over to Fran's side of the pool. Max kissed Fran on the cheek and whispered "Darling, I hope your not telling them about the time your sister had to have that thing drained on her stomach."

"Max, old boy," said Frank, patting him on the back. "We have got to talk."

"Yes quite, CC and I have several pitches for new concepts. I think we can have a new show up and running just in time to make a late appearance in the fall line-up."

"Whatever you want Max, as long as you can make a show that's as funny as your wife."

"She's had us in stitches for hours."

"Well," said Max with a wink, "I'm sure we can work something out."

The crowd began discussing marketing strategies and plot themes, leaving a bewildered Fran to ponder what had just happened.

"Wow...and that was just about me and Max, wait till they hear about Ma!" She wandered over to the buffet table to fix herself a plate. She wondered if she should go check in on the baby-sitter who was upstairs watching the twins. Fran hoped they were sleeping through all this so she wouldn't have to worry. She hated leaving them in the hands of a stranger but she knew it had been important to Max that she be at the party. Boy, had it ever been important. She reached for a shrimp as her hand collided with another hand.

"I'm sorry," they said simultaneously.

Fran looked up, "Oh my god, it's Shane Donovan!"

For a moment the gentleman was taken aback but his look of confusion was quickly replaced by a smile. "Actually the name's Charlie, Charlie Shaughnessy," the man replied in a soft British accent.

"Sorry, I'm a big soap fan. I'll bet you get that all the time."

"You get used to it."

Fran tried to act cool and collected as she asked Charlie about his career post-Days and his family. In an attempt to look nonchalant she leaned against the table as if to say, hey, I'm cool as a cucumber and not at all fazed to be talking with the hunky half of Soap Opera Digest's Hottest Couple. During this oh so casual lean, Fran's sweater brushed up against one of the votive candles positioned around the pool-side for ambiance. Within seconds her sweater became a bonfire.

"Oh my god, you're on fire!" shouted Charlie.

Max, who was deep in conversation a few feet away, didn't even have to ask who Charlie was yelling about.

"Fran!" he screamed, whipping around and rushing towards her. Without thinking he instinctively held out his hands and shoved his wife into the pool. Fran flopped into the water with a large splash and the crisis had been averted. She stood up in the shallow end, her hair and clothes sticking to her like plastic wrap. Her mascara had smeared and was now running down her cheeks. Her face had the expression of Carrie on prom night. Max crouched at the side of the pool.

"Fran, are you all right?"

All she managed to do was weakly smile as she extended her arms in a signal to be helped out. As Max grabbed her arms she lunged backwards, toppling his balance as he splashed in next to her.

"Now I am."

* * *

Fran and Max drudged their way out of the dressing area. It had been a tiring day had by all. They were dressed for bed, Fran in Max's pajama top and Max wearing the bottoms. She had been wearing a cute little nightgown but after giving the twins a bath, she had exchanged the soaked nightgown for Max's shirt, which he had taken off before the bath began, being the experienced parent.

They dragged themselves over to their sides of the bed, left and right respectively, and flopped down horizontally, their heads meeting up in the center. They turned, and their lips met in a kiss.

"Honey, you really impressed the execs tonight, what exactly did you tell them about us?"

"Something along the lines of Liz Taylor, Paris and a few other things."

"Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"Yes, but you can tell me again." They kissed. "Wouldn't it be funny if they liked our life so much they used it as the premise for the sitcom?"

"That's a funny thought. It would be weird to see our life played out in front of us. I don't know that I'd like that...."

"You wouldn't like it. Imagine if you will: I'd have to watch myself wait five years for you... again!"

"If I had a chance to do it all again, I'd make some changes..."

"Speaking of changes," said Fran, getting up and pulling down her side of the covers. Max got up and followed suit. "What do you think about public school?"

"Darling, the twins aren't even potty trained yet."

"No honey...think older."

Max thought for a second as his face lit up. "You've convinced Brighton to come home and go to the University of California like a sensible chap!" He said with a beaming grin.

"No, Gracie."

"Gracie wants to go to the University of California? I think it's a bit soon to be...."

"Oy, no, Gracie wants to go to Public school."

"Why?"

"Honey, her creativity is being suffocated in private school. She needs to branch out."

"How do you know that?"

"Have you seen what she has to wear. I mean, you can only take plaid so far."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Sure I am. I mean, plaid is nice and all, but she should be able to wear stripes, and solids..."

"No Fran, about Public School, are you sure she wants to go?"

"We visited Beverly Hills High School this afternoon." Fran could see Max's face crinkle up in disapproval. "And before you get upset Max, she loved it there. It's a very nice building and the teachers and students seem very down to earth. There's also a top of the line writing program that Gracie has been guaranteed a spot in...should she decided to attend."

"I don't know Fran...a Sheffield has never attended public school."

"There's a first time for everything."

"I suppose if that's what she wants. But maybe I could go visit the school first too. Or at least see some literature..."

"Oh wait, I have the brochure downstairs in the kitchen..."

"NIIILLES!" they screamed simultaneously.

"Oh, well, I'll show it you tomorrow."

"That does bring up a very relevant point. What are we going to do about the whole domestic situation? We can't just keep relying on Niles..." They shot each other a look as if to say 'can we?' but then shook the look away.

"I mean, I don't want to leave the housework burden on you indefinitely."

"Huh?....oh um, yeah...I mean, I manage, but it's difficult."

"Not that Maria doesn't do an excellent job."

Fran shot Max a surprised look which turned into a smile. She should really start to realize he saw through her shenanigans and only put up with them because he loved her.

"I guess we'll have to hire someone then, not that anyone could replace Niles..." They sighed together, both feeling as if they were losing their best friend.

"Tomorrow," Max said with a yawn.

They turned over and snuggled under the covers. Then Fran turned back over and gazed longingly at her husband. She reached over but then stopped her hand mid-air. She didn't want to start something she couldn't finish. She turned over and snuggled deep into the covers. Max, feeling an invisable hand on his back, turned back over towards Fran. He watched her sink under the covers. He sighed softly and kissed the top of her head.

"What was that for?"

"Just because I love you."

Turning over again they both snuggled up under the covers as exhaustion took it's toll and they fell asleep.

* * *

A young man sat at the table of his small studio apartment. The apartment was sparce, save for a few posters of plays and a large broadway CD collection. A small electric piano and guitar case were propped up in the corner. The man munched absentmindedly on a bowl of tofu and brown rice as he flipped through a copy of LA's Theatrical Digest. In frustration, he threw the paper down and picked up the LA Times Want Ads instead. After flipping through the paper, he landed on an ad that caught his eye. He placed the paper down on the table and circled the ad with a large red pen.

This episode is dedicated to My Val, without who's love and support, this episode would have never been made. To my meshpucka Jason, my muse, without whose laughter, I might never have finished. And finally to Fran Drescher, who continues to inspire me to do my best.

So wha'd ya think? Any good? Be sure
to post your two cents worth on the

7.3 Sitcoms Of Our Lives by Dede Max and C.C. are 'given' an idea for their sitcom, which has a familiar feeling to it. Meanwhile, Fran hires a new Niles only to discover the question, "What's for dinner?" is not always safe to ask.

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