Imitation is a Form of Flattery

Amelia couldn’t believe it.

She was sitting in the same room as the one and only Bea Caldwell. The author of The Slovenly Maid Upstairs was sitting just an arm's length away from her. Amelia has admired Bea for only six months but it felt much longer. In fact, Bea Caldwell created the desire for Amelia to be a writer herself.

Bea sat across from her with a grim expression, as if sitting here was interrupting her precious writing time. Amelia felt sympathy towards the person before her, she knew how it felt to be impeded during such important times. Lately, her front door always seemed to have someone wanting to talk to her, sometimes it was her neighbor, once it was a reporter but a few times it was a police officer looking impatient.

Leaning back in the chair, Amelia remembered the time she came across The Slovenly Maid Upstairs in the bookstore down the street from her apartment. The shop owner wrote cute little cards under each book he recommended and this note caught her eye. The note read "Messy maid? Or smart killer?" then underlined in bold letters read "Local Author". Amelia grabbed the book right away to flip to the first couple of pages in search of a signature. Upon finding Bea Caldwell's beautiful, gold-flowing signature, she bought the book to begin reading while she walked home. As soon as she walked out the door, she cracked the spine of the book to begin learning about the maid who lived upstairs. She spent the next 24 hours laughing at little quips, then gasping at moments when the detective made discoveries to end the book with a satisfying sigh as she sat on her couch with a sense of contentment. She instantly googled Bea Caldwell on her Chromebook to learn everything about her; she was inspired to be an author herself.

Looking down at her purse, she contemplated on whether she was going to ask Bea Caldwell to sign the well-loved copy. Amelia knew this was the perfect moment, so she grabbed the book but before she could slide it across the table with a pen the gentleman next to her stopped her. With a firm expression on his face, he placed his hand on the book to stop the movement while shaking his head at her. Amelia understood and was fearful she was creating a distraction which would result in Bea losing her place in the conversation. Amelia was frustrated with herself for not listening to the author intently, she got lost in her own thoughts. She straightened her back to show her interest, noticing that Bea had a slight stutter at the very second. This led to another memory being recalled in Amelia's brain, the day she was able to meet Bea Caldwell.

Every day for three weeks after Amelia had read The Slovenly Maid Upstairs, she visited that bookstore in the hope of seeing Bea Caldwell signing more of her books. When she realized she wasn't walking in, she would trudge across the street to a small coffee shop. She felt as if the fates were smiling upon her because Bea Caldwell happened to be sitting there while reading. Amelia couldn't believe it, she walked to the barista to order two flat whites, without dairy. She planned everything she wanted to say to Bea; how she was inspired to write, how she quit her job to be a full-time writer, and how a collaboration would be a great idea.

Sitting down beside Bea, her stomach was so full of butterflies that she didn't notice Bea jump at her appearance. Amelia couldn't get a word out, her throat seemed to be closing so she just slid a coffee towards Bea. The author looked quizzically at Amelia "Oh hello, I didn't order this" she smiled before placing her book down. Amelia glanced at the book, curious to see what Bea reads in her spare time.

Much to her disappointment, Bea seemed to be reading one of those romance books you can grab at a truck stop. Amelia thought her idol would read more sophisticated books, not that but she shrugged off her dissatisfaction.

She noticed that Bea was staring at the drink with a look of concern, Amelia insisted she drink it. "It's dairy-free, I read an interview about how you are lactose intolerant!" Amelia recalled. Bea politely sipped the flat white, seemingly uncomfortable but Amelia knew it was because Bea had finally met an author on her level.

The man beside her nudged her with her elbow, jolting her from her own thoughts once again. With a glare at the man, she was able to catch the end of Bea's sentence "And now I can't even go into that coffee shop now" she said through tears. Amelia felt the urge to reach across the table to envelop her in an empathetic hug, she couldn't imagine being banned from Coffee on Main. Mindlessly, Amelia began twirling her hair between her fingers, recalling the moment she knew she needed to resemble her own muse.

A few days after meeting one another at the coffee shop, Amelia noticed Bea walking out of a salon with her hair neatly done. Her hair was jet black, seeming to be styled with shocking waves of red. At that moment, she canceled her plans to spend the afternoon inside the First Impressions studio. She walked in to be greeted with a dazzling smile by a platinum-blonde individual. Amelia met them with the same smile explaining that her best friend Bea suggested she come in. The receptionist waved their hands while saying "Say no more my love, I got you" and with a few clicks on a screen, Amelia was sitting in the salon chair speaking to Megan.

The stylist was enthusiastic while pulling at the strands of Amelia's dirty blonde hair "Oh girl, we can absolutely get you leaving here feeling like a ten out of ten" she said as she popped a bubble of gum in her mouth. Amelia nodded her head with excitement "I want to be leaving here looking like Bea, she said you're the best" she agreed. There was hesitation in Megan's voice "Well, I don't really do the same hairstyle twice but if Bea recommended me, I guess I can." A few moments later Amelia was happily sipping champagne while her hair was being dyed to match her idol.

"I am so glad Bea recommended you, it was at a great time!" Amelia exclaimed.

"Oh I know, it's the day of her party too, so you're going to look amazing" Megan agreed

"Yes! Her party! I am just so excited, it's at her house on Franklin right?"

"No girl, it's at the new house on Meadow Lane!"

"How could I forget, life has just been so busy"

Amelia just found an opportunity to get inside Bea's house, to see where her muse comes from. She could barely sit still while Megan finished her hair. When Amelia saw the change in her hair, she knew she felt closer to Bea. Her idol will be flattered to have such a follower. Walking out of the salon, Amelia googled the author again but this time focusing on the clothes Bea wears. She had the opportunity to get inside her house, she needed to look the part to feel where she found her muse. She noticed that Bea often wears darker colors, satin dresses at events, and overalls while working in her garden.

Her memory was interrupted by the man nudging her once again. This nudge was a little more forceful than the last, Amelia felt irritated by the constant elbow in her space. She returned her focus to Bea Caldwell, who seemed to be crestfallen while she spoke. With a heavy sigh, Bea continued "That night, my housewarming party was ruined. She broke into my home and went into my office"

At the word office, Amelia remembered the moment she crossed the threshold into Bea Caldwell's home, looking to see where her inspiration came from. Wearing a dark green satin dress that fit rather snugly, Amelia was shaking with excitement. She was in the home of Bea Caldwell, the woman who wrote The Slovenly Maid Upstairs. As she walked through the foyer into the kitchen she smiled at other party attendees while wondering what sparks her inspiration. Grabbing a flute of champagne she listened to the conversations around her. However, most of the conversations involved Mr. Caldwell, an engineer who just received a promotion. Finding this conversation dull, Amelia wandered away to see if she could see Bea in her new home.

Walking down the hall, away from voices, Amelia knew she was walking into the area that Bea would go to while writing. She remembered in an interview that Bea said she often hides in her office for days while writing in a robe. Amelia knew she needed that robe. The robe could be the answer to ridding herself of the creative block she found herself in. She opened each door slightly before she caught a glimpse of a beautiful writing desk. Looking down the dark hallway to make sure no one saw her, she slipped in the door. The desk was covered in pens, sticky notes, and crumbled papers. Amelia reached for the crumpled paper to read the ideas of Bea, but her eyes found the robe. A cotton robe that was tattered in some places, covered with patches in other areas; Amelia had never seen anything too perfect.

She slipped on the robe, it fit her perfectly. Amelia knew that she was becoming Bea and that her next attempt to write would be a guaranteed success. Suddenly she heard the doorknob move, Amelia froze, keeping her back to the door. The door opened, and a startled individual laughed "Oh sorry Bea, I didn't realize you were in the writing zone, I'll leave you be!" before the door closed once more. As the footsteps moved away from the door she heard the person yell "Found Bea! She's in her robe again!" the group around him laughed. Amelia felt relief. However, that was short-lived.

"What? No" a woman giggled "I am not. I am right here" Bea laughed along with the other person. The footsteps stopped abruptly. "Then who is in the office?" the man asked. Amelia's stomach dropped as she rushed out of the robe, throwing it haphazardly across the room.

 When the office door opened, Amelia spun around trying to show her best smile. "Oh, this isn't the bathroom" she lied as she tried to move out the door. She was blocked by Bea Caldwell who seemed to have rushed in. Amelia gleefully hugged her while she shrieked with joy. She was in her idol's office, hugging her, her muse. The rest of the moment is a haze to Amelia. She could remember being cheered by the others in the room and then being escorted out by a few late arrivals.

A stern cough startled Amelia out of the moment. She looked up at the man beside her, he always seemed to be annoyed when he glanced at her. Looking around the room Amelia could see that Bea was distraught. Amelia tried to study her face, but she was nudged again while being motioned to look forward in the room. In the front of a room sat a man who listened intently as each individual spoke. Suddenly, Amelia was pulled to a stand by the person beside her as the Judge stated that someone was no longer allowed to be in contact with Bea Caldwell. As the room emptied, Bea appeared to be relieved.

Amelia's lawyer told her that his secretary would be in touch. Amelia pulled out her cell phone to call the local florist. She needed to double the order for Bea, she seemed troubled today.

They will look great at her new home.