“I was actually quite comfortable. I often get chilled in the winter.” Her tone had an unmistakable tinge of indignation, which told me I’d hit my mark by pointing out that it wasn’t cold enough for mink.
I moved on to Arden and Kirsten, figuring Mom could hold her own with Beverline. “Hello, girls. I haven’t seen you in ages. I, uh, missed you when my mother and I were over a few weeks ago.”
“Yes,” Arden said. She was clearly The Voice out of the two of them. Her younger sister just nodded. “We were up in our room that day…watching a really good movie on TV.”
“I see. Well, go and sit down. I’ll just put these coats away.” I went into the bedroom and put the coats on Mom’s bed.
When I returned I heard laughter coming from the kitchen. Apparently Aaron was helping Mom bring out the refreshments she’d prepared.
Beverline was telling Billy to take his gift home with him and open it Christmas morning with the rest of his presents. Arden and Kirsten were standing awkwardly.
“Please, sit down,” I said.
The girls sat together on the sofa. Billy sat on one of the floor pillows. I wondered if Aaron had told him ahead of time to sit there, because there wouldn’t be enough room for everyone to sit on the furniture. Beverline chose the single chair that matched the loveseat and sofa. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mom and Aaron coming toward us, Mom carrying a tray of pinwheel sandwiches and an ice bucket, and Aaron holding a tray with two small glass pitchers, one of eggnog and the other of Sprite, plus highball glasses.
Then two things happened. “Can we watch TV?” young Billy inquired as Beverline paused mid-descent. When her right hand swung behind her, I gasped. Was she going to do what I thought she was going to do?
Then Beverline brushed the cushion of the chair with her palm before sitting down.
I was rendered speechless, something that rarely happens. But the cat didn’t get Mom’s tongue.
She bent to place the tray down on the coffee table, then stood straight up and faced Beverline. “I may not have a housekeeper, Mrs. Wilson, but I keep a clean house. There’s no need for you to brush away imaginary dust.”
“Beverline? Did you do that?” Aaron sounded astounded.
She shrugged guiltily. “It’s a reflex action. I do it every-place. I didn’t mean to imply your apartment isn’t clean, Mrs. Yancy.”
Mom gave a tight little smile that told me she didn’t believe that for a second. She then focused on Arden and Kirsten. “Girls, help yourselves to eggnog, or soda if you prefer.”
“What are these?” Kirsten asked, pointing to the sandwiches.
“Dear, you’ve had those before,” Beverline said quickly. “They’re sandwiches, made on that Middle Eastern bread, then rolled into wheels and sliced.”
“Oh, yes.” Kirsten took a sandwich and a napkin.
I quickly turned on the television for Billy, thinking it might provide a welcome distraction. I handed him the remote control.
Aaron poured Beverline an eggnog and sprinkled it with nutmeg. I wished it was strychnine instead.
“Where’s the HBO?” Billy asked as he flipped from channel to channel.
“I’m sorry, dear, I don’t have HBO,” Mom replied.
“All you have is news stations,” he complained as he passed through a series of channels.
“Billy, you know better than that,” Aaron admonished.
“If you flip around some more you’ll find the Cartoon Network,” I offered. I glanced over at Mom, who had taken a seat on the loveseat next to Aaron. Her eyes had narrowed into slits so small I was amazed she could see anything through them.
I sat in the only vacant seat left, the opening on the sofa between Arden and Kirsten. The eggnog I’d poured for myself just before they arrived still sat on a coaster on the coffee table. “Are you all ready for the holidays, girls?” I asked pleasantly.
“Yes,” Arden and Kirsten responded simultaneously.
In a legal setting, this would be considered a question asked and answered. And the answer was delivered with as much personality as someone on the witness stand.
I tried again. “Are you looking forward to spending your holiday out of town?”
“Yes.”
Oh, fine. I hadn’t fared so badly since I interviewed a recent certified nursing assistant graduate for an opening my employer had. The girl had excellent grades, but Calvin Coolidge would have viewed her as a conversational challenge.
I tried for what I told myself would be the final time. “Are there many people out in the Hamptons this time of year?”
“Yes,” Arden said.
I took a gulp of my eggnog, glad that I’d spiked it with some of Pop’s old bourbon. I silently acknowledged defeat, but Arden surprised me by continuing to speak. “Lots of people spend the holidays out there.”
“It’ll be nice to get out there and see our friends whom we haven’t seen since July,” Kirsten said, accenting her last word.
Beverline made a sighing sound just before taking a demure sip of her eggnog. I knew it was directed at me, just as Kirsten’s remark had been, but I let it slide. The bourbon was making me mellow.
Aaron spoke up. “Keep that up, Kirsten, and you won’t see them until next Christmas.”
My eyes immediately went to Beverline to check her reaction. She pretended to be studying her eggnog…maybe for poison.
“Aaron, I’m so sorry you and Emily won’t see each other over the holiday,” Mom said.
“Actually, Mrs. Yancy, I’ll be out on the island for only a few days. I’ll be driving back at home on the twenty-seventh. I’ve got a few loose ends to clear up before the first, and of course I want to spend some time with Emily.”
“Will you be going back to Long Island for New Year’s?”
I reached for a sandwich. I knew what Mom was up to. She’d already asked me about Aaron’s plans. She knew Beverline didn’t like the idea of Aaron spending a special occasion with me and wanted to hear him state his plans aloud just to irritate her.
“No. I’m going to spend New Year’s with Emily at home.”
Beverline suddenly perked up. “Aaron’s arranged for a limousine service to drive us back New Year’s Day.”
Mom beamed. “Well, I’m glad you two will get to ring the New Year in together, since you’ll be separated on Christmas.”
I flashed her a look that I hoped she would interpret as a warning not to go overboard.
“I understand you’re going out of town yourself, Mrs. Yancy,” Aaron said, deftly changing the subject.
“Yes. My other daughter lives outside of Pittsburgh. Her children live here, but they always go out after Christmas and spend a week or so. She and her husband give a large New Year’s bash every year. It’s really quite lovely.”
“When are you leaving?”
“The twenty-seventh. The same day you’ll be driving back to New York.”
Arden, who’d been eyeing the tray on the coffee table in front of her, said, “Those sandwiches are good. Is it all right if I have another one?”
“Of course, dear. You go right ahead,” Mom said.
“Now, Arden, you don’t want to eat up all of Mrs. Yancy’s food,” Beverline cautioned, effectively giving her grandchildren the impression that Mom and I were starving.
Aaron tried to defuse the potentially explosive situation. “Beverline, I’m sure Mrs. Yancy’s cupboards are full,” he said easily. He nodded at his uncertain daughter to go ahead.
“Thank you, Aaron,” Mom said. “You know, I’ve always hated it when people put out food and liquor for guests and then turn around and complain about how much they ate or drank. That’s definitely not me.” She looked directly at Beverline as she said the last sentence, as if defying her to make another implication. I could swear that Beverline’s complexion darkened a shade at Mom’s insinuation.
Aaron got up. “I’m going to have another one of those sandwiches myself, and then I’m afraid we’ll have to run.
I want to hit the road early tomorrow, by six-thirty.”
Just minutes later I was handing out coats. The visit Aaron estimated would run about an hour had lasted barely half that long.
Mom said good night to everyone and promptly made herself scarce, disappearing inside her bedroom, knowing that Aaron and I would want a few minutes alone. Beverline, on the other hand, showed no such consideration. She waited expectantly in the doorway after the kids had already left the apartment. “Aaron, aren’t you coming?”
“Why don’t you start the car up? I’ll be out in a minute.”
She flashed an expression that looked like he’d just slapped her, nodded curtly to me, and left.
I turned to Aaron. “Well, that went well,” I said brightly. His hangdog expression made me giggle.
“Kirsten and Arden don’t dislike you, Emily. They’re just having a little difficulty with the idea of there being another woman in my life. I’ve talked to them about it and assured them that I won’t ever forget their mother. But it’s hard for them nonetheless.”
“Billy doesn’t seem to have a problem,” I pointed out.
“No, but he’s younger. He doesn’t have the memories of Diana that his sisters do. I was hoping they would open up to you a little bit. You know, talk to you about things teenage girls worry about. I hoped they would see you as someone who’s a little more in touch with their generation than their grandmother.”
“I guess we have to give it more time. They’ve only seen me a handful of times, and it’s clear Kirsten blames me for kicking them out of the Sag Harbor house. Things might change for the better once Mom and I move into your guesthouse.”
“You’re right. Of course, there’s also the possibility that Beverline is influencing them in a negative way.”
“She really hates me, doesn’t she?”
“I think she’s just scared. Arden asked me just the other day if I would put Nana out if I were to remarry.”
“Does your own daughter really think you’d do something so cold, Aaron?”
“Not on her own. At least I hope not. But I think Beverline is trying to get her to think that. The truth is, my house probably wouldn’t be big enough for Beverline and any other woman.”
“Did she honestly think you would never start seeing women again?”
“Well, I was pretty broken up when Diana passed…but someone of Beverline’s generation probably should know that widowed spouses have to move on…eventually.”
Part of me understood Beverline’s fear. But didn’t she realize that by being so unpleasant she was setting the stage for Aaron’s next wife to throw her ass out?
“I guess I’d better get going,” he said reluctantly.
I suddenly felt an almost overwhelming sadness. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and my boyfriend was going out of town. Yes, that’s what he was now, my boyfriend. He was handsome, successful, rich…and he was in love with me. When he pulled me to him I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him fervently. Aaron pressed his cheek to mine and squeezed me. “I know how you feel, but I’ll only be gone three days, Emily. We’ll have dinner the night I come back and celebrate Christmas then. Plan on staying at my house the rest of the week. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds great.” How nice it would be to be able to lounge around a private residence, rather than rush to vacate that motel before eleven.
He kissed me once more before leaving. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
While watching him from the kitchen window, a squeal escaped from my lips that would have made Al Green proud. Aaron turned around before getting behind the wheel to wave at me. I blew him a kiss.
Even though I could have waited until after the holiday to take advantage of all those post-Christmas sales, I chose to shop for Aaron’s gift on Christmas Eve. I enjoyed the revelry of the mall atmosphere as people good-naturedly purchased last-minute gifts.
I went to a men’s specialty store, which sold everything from underwear and socks to overcoats. The store aisles were packed with special displays of holiday gifts, some of them ludicrous. I mean, did people actually buy those ear and nose hair trimmers? I couldn’t think of a more insulting gift. There was just no nice way to say, “You need to cut the hair that’s growing out of your nostrils.” That was like me giving Beverline a nice jar of Porcelana for her liver spots.
After much looking at all the goodies, I chose a snazzy brown and white tie with matching hanky and a gold love-knot tie clip for Aaron. He preferred to wear plain white shirts to work—they went with the white smock he wore—but the tie would give some pizzazz to his everyday wear.
It would be hard to go without seeing him over the holiday. I had to be satisfied with knowing he was thinking about me…and with wondering about what he’d gotten for me.
I took a day off on the day Aaron came home. That morning I took Mom to the airport to catch her flight to Pittsburgh. She was happy about her trip, and so was I. I could spend the next five days at Aaron’s and not feel guilty about leaving her alone in the apartment at the most festive time of year.
I figured Aaron would want to take me to dinner his first night back, but I thought it would be a nice surprise if I cooked for him. I called Shirley, who was freshening up the house for Aaron’s return, and arranged for her to let me in.
“You know, Miss Yancy, we have plenty of food here in the house,” she said as she took one of the grocery bags I held in my arms. “You really didn’t have to go to the store and buy all this.”
“I wanted to be responsible for the entire dinner,” I said. “You know how it is.”
“I think that’s very sweet. Are there more bags?”
“No, just my suitcase. Um…I’ll be staying here through New Year’s Day.”
“Just let me know if there’s anything you need, Miss Yancy.”
That familiar guilt came over me, and I decided to put a stop to it. “Shirley, won’t you please call me Emily?” I saw no reason to give an explanation for my request; instinct told me she knew where I was coming from.
“The doctor might not like it,” she protested.
I didn’t think she truly believed that. “He won’t mind,” I said. I looked at the kitchen clock. “I’d better get started. Aaron said he was leaving after lunch. He’ll probably be here soon.”
“I’m about to leave myself. Do you need me to take out any pans or cooking tools for you? It can be hard when you’re not familiar with where everything’s kept.”
“Good idea. All I need is a saucepan, a broiler pan, a cutting board, and a salad bowl.” I was making a simple surf ’n’ turf: steak, boiled shrimp, loaded baked potatoes, and salad.
Shirley left soon after taking out the utensils I requested. It made me feel good to know that she felt she didn’t have to stay and keep an eye on me until Aaron arrived. I was glad she left, for that allowed me to carry through a part of my plan that I didn’t think I’d be able to.
After six months and two sexual positions—missionary and spooning—it occurred to me to shake things up under the guise of spontaneity.
I was all set when I heard Aaron’s key in the lock. “Emily!” he called out, sounding excited. “Where are you?”
“In the kitchen.”
He rushed into the room. “I saw your car in the driveway. That was real smart of you, to get here before I—” he broke off at the sight of my French maid outfit. “Wow.”
“Shirley went home for the day, so it’s just you and me,” I said in a throaty voice a half octave lower than I normally spoke in, playfully twirling the hem of my short skirt. The three-and-a-half-inch heels I wore were hurting the hell out of my feet, but the enchanted look on his face made it worth the pain.
“Oh, yeah.” He jerked his jacket off and threw it toward a stool, not even turning at the sound of it hitting the floor instead. “C’mere, baby.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist when he picked me up. Aaron leaned me against the refrigerator fo
r balance as he kissed me, allowing his hands to roam over my body, including my bare upper thighs where my elasticized thigh-high stockings ended. “I don’t think we’ll make it upstairs,” he said between gasps. “Let’s go to my office.”
“I don’t think I can wait that long,” I whispered back. “I say we do it right here.” I wriggled against his erection and moved his hand to my conveniently crotchless panties. He caught on quickly, moving to unzip his jeans.
I held on for the ride of my life.
“I thought it would be nice to invite a few people over for New Year’s,” Aaron said as we ate the dinner we ended up preparing together. “Nothing too big. What do you think?”
I was still reeling from the exciting sex we’d had before dinner. Wow. First I came to stay for a few days, and next we were entertaining as a pair. I could hear Mom saying, “You’ll be married by this time next year.”
“I think it’ll be fun,” I said. “I just wish people would dress up more for casual parties. It seems so less festive when people throw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, like they’re going to the mall or to wash the car or something.”
“So we can tell people to dress up.”
“We can?”
“Sure. I think that’ll be nicer, anyway. More festive, like you said.”
I found myself starting to get excited. “Who should we invite?”
“Elias and his latest flame, of course.”
I shook my head. “He really gets around, doesn’t he?”
“He’s gone buck wild since his divorce. Sometimes I don’t think he’ll be satisfied until he’s bedded every single woman over twenty-five in New York.”
“And no doubt he calls every one of them ‘dahling.’” I giggled.
“I’m sure. Let’s see. My other close friends are all out of town until after New Year’s. But there’s Rosalind and John, Tanis, your friend Wayne, Tanis’s cousin…”
“Valerie.”
“Yes, that’s the one. And your other friend, Marsha.” Aaron frowned. “That does make it a little female heavy, doesn’t it?”
“Do you know any single doctors, Aaron?” Marsha would certainly love that.
A New Kind of Bliss Page 22
