“Sounds good.” Actually, it sounds like crap. It sounds like I was an afterthought for New Year’s Eve, and not good enough to invite to whatever “thing” he has for New Year’s Day.
“Okay, then. I’m going to head out. You have a fun night, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Have fun at Bill’s.”
“Good night, darlin’.”
“Good night.”
Okay. Fine. Regroup. So Connor isn’t a New Year’s guy. And babysitting three rowdy boys so that Michael and Peg can have a date is very sweet and endearing. And he did invite me. But that “New Year’s Day thing” chaps my ass. It’s obviously a party of some sort, and one where he doesn’t want me tagging along. And I’m trying not to be mad at myself for not broaching the idea of New Year’s in enough time to secure plans with him.
“Mmmm. I did miss you,” Abbot says into my hair. We are snuggled up on my couch, watching a French film about a man who starts a chorus in a reform school right after World War II.
“But it sounds like you had a good trip.”
“Oh, yeah. Nothing like a trip home. Mom starts drinking the moment the clock strikes five, Dad keeps running weird errands at all hours so that he can sneak off to see his mistress, and Uncle Joey spends the whole weekend telling racist jokes and complaining about the immigration problem.”
“Okay, well, that part isn’t so good, but at least you got to see your sister and her kids, and you were smart enough to stay at a hotel.”
“True. I’m getting very wise in my old age.”
I look up and kiss the underside of his chin. “Not old. Vintage.”
“Shhh. I can’t talk and read subtitles at the same time.”
We watch the rest of the movie, tidy up the plates, and Abbot lights a fire. “So, how are things going at crisis control central?” he asks, refilling my wineglass.
“Okay. Day by day. Up and down. It’s been pretty quiet with the holidays, but Kim seems to think there are troubled waters ahead. Can’t say I disagree with her.”
“And you and Jill?”
“We’re pretty good. I’m trying to be a good little girl and really supportive of the wedding plans and stuff, and not pressure her too much on the business fallout. We’re editing the new book, which gives us some focus, and still fleshing out ideas for the television thing, but I am really doubting it will happen.”
“You need to stop thinking about it for a bit.”
“That I do.”
“C’mere,” he says, motioning to me to join him in front of the fireplace. I had a friend make me a floor pillow almost the size of a twin mattress for sitting in front of the fire, and Abbot has fetched it from its hiding place under the coffee table. I walk over and sit beside him.
“Good job with the fire, Smokey.” It is beautiful and crackling and providing a nice bit of heat.
“I have many, many talents,” Abbot says, moving in for a kiss.
“Mmmm. So you do.”
He moves his kisses to my neck, just under my left ear. I shiver with delight.
“You didn’t say that you missed me, too.” He cups my left breast and kneads it gently.
“Didn’t I?”
His thumb finds my nipple and begins to make slow, firm circles. “No, my lovely girl, you didn’t.”
“Such an oversight. I do apologize. Shall I show you how much I missed you?” I whisper in his ear, letting my hand wander to his crotch.
He groans. “Well, a gent does like to know he is appreciated.”
“Well, then, why don’t I appreciate you.”
Actually, we are pretty mutually appreciative for the better part of an hour before shifting to the bedroom, where we are additionally appreciative first of each other, and then, of sleep.
I wake up at around two in the morning, sneak out from under Abbot’s leg, and go to the bathroom. I take off my makeup, brush my teeth, and head back to the bedroom, to find Abbot dressing.
“Where you going?” I ask him, grabbing my robe off the hook by the bed.
“Honey, I’ve got to go home. I have a bunch of work stuff that got messengered over earlier today, not to mention the mail and all that.”
“Okay. Well, thanks for coming over.”
He walks around to the side of the bed where I’m sitting. He leans over and kisses me. “Don’t be petulant. You know I’d love nothing more than to wallow in bed with you and sleep in and make you breakfast. Or have you for breakfast. But duty calls.”
“All right. I suppose I’ll have to forgive you.”
“Thank you.”
“Hey, Abbot, about New Year’s . . .” I’ve put him off for so long, and after my earlier discussion with Connor, I realize I should have invited him to the party all along. He asked first, and he is the one I am most deeply involved with, and just because there is a new shiny boy paying me some attention shouldn’t get me off track with the one who has been making me happy for the last five months.
“Don’t worry. I’m taken care of.”
Huh? “Taken care of?”
“Yeah, well, I figured since you never responded to my offer of wining and dining you for the New Year that you had other plans, so I accepted an invite to my friend Sol’s place in New Buffalo.”
“Oh. Well, that sounds like it’ll be fun.” What is with these guys? I must be having some really bad New Year’s karma.
“Sol’s a good guy, and I like his wife. They’ve been bugging me to come there for ages. If it’s nice, maybe you can come with me for a weekend one of these days.”
“Sure, that sounds good.”
“Am I allowed to ask what your plans are, or should we include it in the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ portion of our arrangement?”
I put on a chipper attitude. “Now, now. Nothing like that. Jill and I are having some people over, but I think you’d have been bored to tears. It’s the best man and his wife and a couple of friends from college. You’d spend all night listening to two different sets of old private jokes. I thought I’d spare you the tedium.”
“Well, thank you for thinking of my mental well-being. And you’re right, I probably wouldn’t have much enjoyed it, even with your delightful self.”
He gathers the rest of his things and heads for the back door without even complaining.
“Good night, honey. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon when my meeting is over.” He leans in for a kiss, which I deliver dutifully.
“Okay, then, get home safe.”
I lock the door behind him and head back to bed.
So, then, Ben Kohn, this is your lucky New Year’s.
The phone wakes me just after nine. Goddammit.
“H’lo?” I say groggily.
“Hey, Jodi. It’s Brant.”
“So, what’s up?” I haven’t really spoken to Brant since the get incident. And while it isn’t something I miss, I’m just realizing that he has pretty much stopped calling me.
“Well, um, I have some news.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“Mallory is moving in with me.”
Interesting. Especially that phrasing. Mallory is moving in with him. Not Mallory and I are moving in together. “Well, congratulations. I had no idea things were that serious.”
“Well, things are definitely serious. The thing is, she recently got let go by her law firm, so she was worried about living expenses, and we decided it just made sense for her to move in here.”
“Wow, that must be difficult. Was the firm downsizing?”
“No, not exactly. She, um, well, she failed the bar again. And her firm was only keeping her on with the understanding that she had eighteen months to pass the bar if she was going to remain with them. So they had to let her go.”
“That sucks.” Must not laugh at the thought of perfect Mallory getting sacked because she can’t pass the bar. “What is she going to do?”
“She’s considering all her options. She used to work for a big PR firm when she was in school
, so she is thinking she might get back into that.”
“That could be interesting, and certainly easier if she has a background in it. Please extend my best wishes to her. When is she moving in?”
“Last weekend.”
“That was fast. Are you guys thinking you’ll stay there or find a different place?”
“I love this place. Why would we move?”
Duh. “Brant, as a woman, I don’t know how comfortable I would be living in the same apartment that my boyfriend shared with his ex-wife. I mean, obviously, in the current circumstances it’s necessary, but you might want to offer the idea of looking for a new place for the two of you to set up together. Clean slate, fresh start, that sort of thing.” I can’t help myself, the need to give advice overwhelms, even though the thought of old Mallory living in my old apartment is sort of delicious. But men in general are so frigging clueless, and Brant in particular, that I have to put in my two cents.
“I never thought of that. But it makes sense. I guess that’s why you give advice for a living, huh?”
“Guess so. How’s everything else?”
“Good, sort of slow. When the economy is like this, people aren’t really upgrading their systems like they used to, so things are a little quieter than usual. But okay.”
“I’m sure it’ll pick up. We can’t live without our computers!”
“I hope so. Especially with Mallory out of work.”
Oy. I really need this conversation to be over. “Brant, I’m really happy for you, even if the situation is a little crappy. But I have to start getting ready for New Year’s.”
“No problem. What are you guys doing tonight?”
“Small dinner party, not a big deal, but I’m cooking with Aunt Shirley this afternoon.”
“Well, have a very happy new year. And send my love to Jill and the gals.”
“Will do. And you and Mallory have a happy new year as well.”
“We will. Talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
I hang up the phone and flop back onto the bed. I actually did all the relevant shopping yesterday, and Aunt Shirley probably cooked everything last night. By the time I get downstairs there will be nothing left to do except help her get the dining rooms ready. We decided to do a roving party, cocktails and hors d’oeuvres at the aunts’, dinner at Jill’s, and dessert at my house. We hired a server/bartender and a dishwasher, so that once the party starts, we can all just enjoy and not run around too much.
I snuggle back under the covers and will myself toward sleep.
It is so rare that I can really indulge in a long morning in bed, and I have every intention of remaining right where I am.
And then the phone rings again. What is with everyone this morning?
“H’lo?”
“Hey, Jodi, it’s Ben.”
“Ben, what is the rule about early in the morning?”
“I can nudge you awake any time after seven, but no phone calls till after ten.”
“And what time is it now?”
“Nine thirty.”
“And are you gently nudging me awake?”
“Nope.”
“I will forgive you this once, but only because my ex is even ruder than you are and woke me up already. What’s up?”
“Well, um, I have sort of a problem about tonight.” This makes me sit up.
“What sort of a problem?”
“The thing is, when I was in Hawaii, there was a girl I went to high school with there, and we were hanging out and she just moved to Chicago and doesn’t know anyone. And when she asked what I was doing for New Year’s, I said nothing,’cause you hadn’t said anything, and then we had that whole talk and stuff before Christmas, and I figured, you know, that you were going to make other plans. So she and I talked about making plans to hang out, but she wasn’t sure, so we were going to wait and talk when we got back. But she didn’t call me, and then you called and invited me over, so I figured everything was fine. But then she just called me to reconfirm for tonight. I guess she thought it was set, and I told her I’d made other plans, but she sounded really down about it. And I thought, I mean, not that I don’t want to be with you for New Year’s, but you are going to have all those people, and she doesn’t have any plans, and . . .”
“Ben. Ben!” Good Lord, that boy can ramble. “It’s okay. Go hang out with her. I’ll have plenty of entertainment here, and by the time the party is over, I’m going to want to just crash anyway. It’s not a big deal.”
“Jodi, you’re the best. That is so cool of you.”
“I know. I’m amazing. And still in bed. You go, have a nice time, and you’ll make it up to me later this week.”
“You bet I will! Go back to sleep.”
“Happy new year, Benny boy.”
“Happy new year to you, too.”
Great. Just great. Someone, at some point, will have to explain to me how it is that I can have no less than three men in my life, and I still can’t get a date for New Year’s.
Auld Lang Syne
Being a good hostess is one of the best skills you can develop. It isn’t about extravagance, it is about spirit. Pizza and beer can be fine if it is presented with love and attention to detail. If people feel welcome and comfortable in your home, if they feel cared for, it can help to create meaningful bonds. Conversations happen in a living room or dining room that simply don’t happen in restaurants and bars. The intimacy created by entertaining at home allows for open dialogue, and that is the basis of solid, long-term friendships. The friendships you develop in your twenties and early thirties are the ones that can carry you through your life, and bringing people into your home for food and drink and convivial conversation creates important bonds.
—From Living Twenty-five by Jill and Jodi Spingold
“Anyone need more coffee?” I ask.
“God no. I’m going to be wired as it is,” Raj says, running a hand through his thick black hair.
“Seriously, Jodi, instant espresso and chocolate in the cake and this Italian roast sludge you call coffee. Is it that you don’t want us to sleep until next New Year?” Tim says, waving off the pot. Raj reaches a hand over and rubs Tim’s thigh.
“Well, I’ll have a half a cup more,” Shelly says, handing her cup forward to me in a delicate, manicured hand. “It’s delicious.”
“Well, of course it’s delicious!” Matt says, laughing. “You fill half the cup with heavy cream and four spoons of sugar.” He’s a large man, with a generous smile, and he reminds me a little of John Goodman. Shelly is so petite, she looks like she could fit into his pocket. They are easy and affectionate together, and Hunter says that they will probably be engaged by the time the wedding rolls around.
“Well, dear, I’m with you,” Aunt Shirley says. “I think coffee is simply a good excuse for cream and sugar.”
“Is that a request for another cup?” I ask her.
“Oh no, dear. I’m fine,” she says, winking at me.
“Sure she is. Fine.” Aunt Ruth snorts. “She’s had two cups already, and she won’t be able to sleep. We’ll go back downstairs, and she’ll putter around all night!”
“You’re welcome to stay in the guest room at our place if you need to get some rest,” Hunter says.
“Kiss-ass.” Jill elbows him in the ribs.
“Leave the boy alone, darling,” Ruth says, smiling at Hunter. “I happen to like a young man who knows where his bread is buttered.”
“So, Jodi, how’s it feel to be losing a sister to marriage?” Raj asks me playfully.
“I’m not losing a sister; I’m gaining a brother,” I say dutifully, rumpling Hunter’s hair as I sit on the other side of him on the couch.
“Aw, shucks,” Hunter says, faking humility.
“You are, however, losing a Spinster!” Raj says.
“True enough,” I say. “And more power to her!”
“You’ll have to hold down the fort,” Tim says. “The last surviving Spinster.�
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“Even if she did take a brief sabbatical to the dark side.” Raj laughs.
Aunt Ruth and Aunt Shirley make eye contact over the rims of their coffee cups.
“Hey, marriage isn’t the dark side!” Hunter says in mock horror. “Is it? Are you luring me to the dark side?” He faces Jill, who laughs uncomfortably.
“Of course not,” she says and waves her hand in front of his face. “This woman loves you.”
Hunter adopts a blank look. “This woman loves me.”
“She is not trapping you in marriage.”
“She is not trapping me in marriage.”
“She needs a Gucci purse for her birthday.”
“Even I am not that stupid,” he says, kissing her neck.
“Damn,” Jill says, the uncomfortable moment gone. “I was so close!”
“Hey, it’s almost time,” Tim says, checking his watch.
I walk over to the television and turn it on, finding the Times Square festivities. We have less than five minutes to go.
Jill hands around glasses of champagne, a beautiful bottle of Krug that Raj and Tim brought.
“Before we count down,” Matt says, “I’d like to propose a toast to the four best hostesses in the world!”
“Hear, hear!” Raj says.
“Beautiful and talented, all,” Shelly says. “Thank you so much for including us.”
“You are all very sweet,” Aunt Shirley says.
“Hey, hey, here we go!” Hunter points at the TV.
The ball begins its journey, and we all count in unison. “Happy New Year!” we all shout, and the ubiquitous kissing begins. I receive my hugs and good wishes from everyone in the crowd and try to think of my blessings, but there is something a little disappointing about not having a man taking me in his arms at this joyous moment. I can see Hunter dipping Jill dramatically, Raj and Tim are holding each other tightly, and Matt has picked Shelly up to kiss her, like a porcelain doll. I wonder what Connor and Abbot and Ben are doing right now.
Everyone begins to straighten up, and I sneak off to my bedroom for a moment. I check my cell phone. Two new text messages.
The Spinster Sisters Page 16
