Heh. Yeah, I did make it kind of obvious, didn't I? I wanted to see if I could do that classic scene justice; hopefully you enjoyed.
Sorry for the delay, folks; vacation, and then getting back into the swing of things after vacation, ate up a lot of my time. But I'm back, and ready to continue my story. Here we have a short bit with plot, and next will be some more growing fun.
* * * * *
When Ellen Summers walked into the doctor's office that morning trailed by the entire volleyball team, Carla's jaw dropped. She'd heard of rapid growth spurts in teenagers, but never ones that caused people to shoot up two feet overnight. Then she had to do a double-take when she realized Susan Knox was even taller; the girl was ten feet if she was an inch. Even Zara Milos, formerly the shortest member of the team, towered over Carla. She listened in amazement as the coach and her team recounted the situation, then called for Dr. Matthews to come to the front. He asked for details, but she insisted he'd have to see for himself, since he'd never believe her. His obvious irritation immediately became shock as he got a look at his waiting room. He got some basic information on Susan (having particular difficulty getting her height, which turned out to be 12'3”) then directed Carla to do the same for the other patients while he took her back to an exam room.
After a few of the teens had been taken to the back, Darla Morgan and Janet Laine arrived. With the waiting room and exam rooms crowded with enormous young women, Carla didn't think she could feel any shorter. Then, when it was nearly her lunch hour, five girls from the swim team came in, all of them even bigger than the students that had come before them. After several moments of stunned silence, she recovered her wits enough to take down their basic information, notify the doctor of the new arrivals, and punch out early for her lunch. She called Will as she left.
“Hon, I'm taking an early lunch. You free?”
“I think I can manage,” he replied. “Where should I meet you? Your usual cafe?”
“No, I'm thinking somewhere that serves alcohol.”
She heard the puzzlement in his voice. “Since when do you drink on lunch hour? Or at all, on a weekday?”
“Since TODAY,” she said sharply. “Oh, God,” she added after a moment, “I just realized that call from Ruby Miller earlier probably wasn't some kind of prank. I need a good stiff drink or three.”
“Damn! Something on your mind?”
“You could say that. And when I tell you what, you might need a drink too. And please, no jokes,” she added as an afterthought.
“Must you read my mind? Okay. Chotchkie's?”
“Fine, I don't care. I just hope we don't get that asshole waiter Brian again.”