Lucky 13

by Cat Gardiner

  “Whatever. You obviously didn’t see Eyewitness News that night.” And I’m certainly not going to tell you about it. “Don’t read into the gift, Honeybee. He just wants your body.”

  She smiled mischievously, resisting the urge to say something she would come to regret. Instead, she replied with as much nonchalance as she could feign, “Perhaps he does.”

  Noting the jealous look upon his face, she found herself responding to his momentary pained reaction. How was it that he could still affect her so? Her brain quickly took on his emotions; she'd known him so well and so long. This date was for her. He was trying to impress her. Hadn’t he tried to show her how much he'd planned for the date? Perhaps, he really had a right to be upset. After all, he had spent a lot of money on the seats and even bought her a souvenir program to remember this night, to say nothing of the $8.50 hot dog they'd shared.

  But, deep down inside, she knew this evening was for him – not her. John hadn’t changed at all from the selfish, young man she had kicked to the curb seven years earlier. He was just an older version with more money. She had changed, and it became even more obvious when he replied, “Yeah well, Mr. December better keep away if he knows what’s good for him. He’s trying to buy you and you’re my girl. What does his note say?”

  Upon asking his question, John turned suddenly away from her, fully focused out on the ice and the Power Play ensuing. He removed from his pocket a white handkerchief and began to circle it over his head as the crowd chanted “Can you hear us?” in deafening unison.

  Elizabeth placed the note in her purse, quite aware that she had lost her date’s attention as quickly as it had been given. With sudden clarity, she resigned to the fact that re-visting the past actually had meant re-living the past, and she wasn’t about to do that again. She suddenly felt like a ridiculous third wheel at this “date.”

  Although furious at her foolishness, she felt at peace for what this evening taught her. “The note? Oh, it didn’t say anything worth repeating.”

  Her words were lost in the air, swallowed by the ensuing commotion in the arena as John suddenly bolted up from his seat when the Rangers scored. His shouts of “HE SCORES!” eliminated any further discussion on the issue of Mr. December or John’s supposed jealousy.

  Charlie stood going wild with excitement beside Darcy. Only Darcy’s eyes remained riveted on the woman he had feelings for. It warmed his soul, watching how her smile lit the arena when she pulled the jacket out of the shopping bag. He knew loving Elizabeth would be the easiest and most rewarding thing in the world to do, that is, once she opened her heart to him. However, it was going to take time – which he didn’t have – to make her Christmas one that she would never forget.

  Mr. December was immensely pleased that her first sign of openness was accepting and putting on the gift he sent her. Perhaps, little by little, she would come to see his true character and put aside her pride and prejudice.

  Liz’s Blog Post Here

  Charlotte’s Blog Post Here

  Chapter Sixteen – Tuesday, December 17

  8 Days Until Christmas

  TriBeCa’s Zinc Building Condominiums on Greenwich Street was the sought after address in one of the wealthiest areas in Lower Manhattan. Its penthouse, listed on the market for months, brought viewings from rock stars to movie stars, but in the end it was old Texan oil money that coughed up the 6.2 million dollar price tag. The magnificent, three bedrooms, three baths, all-glass condo with wrap around and rooftop terraces, provided spectacular views of the Hudson River and New Jersey beyond.

  Once the sun had set on New York City, the view from Charlie and Jane’s condo was even more spectacular because the city around them twinkled in color. The surrounding balconies were delineated with strands of colorful bulbs. Beneath the brilliant, full moon, Christmas lights decorated the boats upon the River down at Pier 26, casting red and green reflective ripples of electric light currents on the water. It all added to the romantic – and fun - evening the couple had planned.

  Although Jane advised Elizabeth, to wear 'party casual' yet fashionable attire, she was shocked when she opened the penthouse door to see her sister standing there, her open coat revealing blue jeans and an unadorned cream colored silk blouse. Her hair, once again, was twirled in the inevitable bun at the back of her head and she clearly wore no makeup.

  “What the heck are you thinking looking like that tonight?” was Jane’s almost indignant reaction.

  They kissed and Elizabeth handed her sister the double cream cheesecake she brought with her from Zabar’s. “Nice to see you, too.”

  “Thanks for the cake, but let’s talk about your outfit, Lizzy. You hardly look fashionable. Granted your jeans are trendy, but I’m with Charlotte here. Your … outfit …” Aghast Jane’s hand sliced the air top to bottom. “… is absolutely inappropriate for a blind date. No wonder she destroyed my Karen Millen.”

  Elizabeth sighed as her sister took her coat and scarf to hang up in the coat closet. “Please, Jane, I’m tired of putting on airs, next you’ll be telling me to use Binaca. I’m not you and I’m not a fashion model. I’m just plain old Lizzy. I attempted fashion and dressed for my date with John wearing the re-vamped dress.” She pfft’d in mock humor. “I’ll never do that again. Clearly fashionable was inappropriate on that night. Look, if a man is going to like me, he should like me for me, not whether I’m wearing Versace or Armani and especially not whether I’m showing the girls to their best advantage.”

  Jane sighed. “Well … at least you ditched your glasses.”

  “Is that Lizzy?” Charlie called from the galley kitchen where he was cleaning up Jane’s mess. She was a good cook but damn if she didn’t understand the term, ‘clean as you go.’

  “Yes, and she looks like …” Jane cut her sentence short with his arrival into the entry foyer. She bit her lip to keep from the insult she really wanted to deliver and looked down at the diverting console table beside her. Although the crystal vase filled with shiny, red ornaments was eye catching, it was the Chihuly glass bowl of Hershey’s red and green holiday wrapped kisses she enjoyed displaying most. They did serve a particular purpose as well - for those any-minute chocolate cravings she seemed to be having with increasing frequency of late.

  Charlie kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “Her date won’t care. Trust me on this. You look fine, Lizzy.”

  Jane thrust the cheesecake in his direction, clearly dismissing him and his opinion. What did he know about dating finesse? Nothing. After all, on their first date, he showed up at her doorstep wearing cowboy boots and holding a potted cactus.

  Elizabeth gave a small smile to her soon-to-be brother-in-law, “Thanks, Charlie. At least someone around here sees the sense in my fashion decisions.”

  “Sense? Sensible maybe but without any fashion sense in my opinion. Come with me. You’re in dire need of another makeover.”

  Jane pulled her sister through the media room. Her unusual, agitated, demanding voice toward the man she was about to walk down the aisle with prompted quizzical speculation from Elizabeth.

  The agitated hostess ordered, “Charlie, finish up that eggnog and don’t forget to take the crab cakes out of the oven. Lizzy and I are going to be a while.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he quietly grumbled under his breath, walking back to the kitchen to pour a very medicinal, much needed double scotch if he was going to get through this night with any measure of sanity.

  Suddenly it seemed his sweet, docile Jane had turned into Frances Bennet on the warpath from all the planning and execution of this little Christmas matchmaking soirée of theirs. Lately, her voice had, at times, taken on the characteristics of fingernails screeching down a chalkboard. Maybe Darcy was right, ‘you want to see the wife – look at the mother.’

  “You’re wish is my command, Princess,” Charlie shouted back.

  Walking through the beautifully decorated media room where Michael Buble’s Christmas CD played, Jane and Elizabeth hurried past t
he Christmas tree, towering beside the wrought iron spiral staircase. Elizabeth resisted her sister’s pull so that she could stop and admire the professionally decorated room.

  Jane tugged firmly. “It’s a full moon tonight, Lizzy. We have to make the most of it.”

  “What are you talking about? The moon is bad luck. I should know.”

  “No, you’ve only been brainwashed to think it’s bad luck. Tonight it’s good luck. This is the guy, Lizzy. Charlie’s friend Fitzwilliam is the one, and you are going to blow him away when he sees you. I have just the dress. I bought it from Mr. Chow at the China Emporium on Canal Street. Fitzwilliam won’t know what hit him when he see’s you in it.”

  Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks, tugging back on her sister’s arm before entering the hallway toward Jane’s dressing room – once a useless study.

  Jane forcibly stopped short, her spike heels scraping along the exotic hardwood flooring.

  Elizabeth’s laughter began low and slow, building into what would become uncontrollable waves. “Fitzwilliam? Oh, my God … you set me up with someone whose first name is Fitzwilliam? What’s his nickname, Fitz? Fitzwilly? … Maybe they call him Fitz-a-flat or … or Fitzy-cent. No, I've got it … it’s just plain … Fitzy!”

  “Stop it. Elizabeth Bennet his name is not funny!”

  “Fitzy, oh touch me Fitzy! Fitzy, darling. He sounds like … one of those abandoned designer boutique dogs I see at the ASPCA on 92nd Street. Come Fitzy – fetch. Who the heck would name their son Fitzwilliam? Unless they wanted a dog!” She backed away from Jane, laughing still. “You didn’t! You fixed me up with a dog! Woof. Woof.”

  “Stop laughing or I’ll call this off.”

  “Please do - call it off. I can’t deal with anymore bad dates. I’m about to give up and tell mom I’m a lesbian and after the day I had today, trying to coordinate all the last minute events for this calendar, I’m seriously considering your terrace out there – about whether to jump off it. Janie, I have nothing left to give. To hell with Christmas!”

  “This won’t be a bad date, I promise you. This guy makes David Gandy look like an English Bulldog. He’s hot - not a dog at all. Please trust me. I’ve seen him without clothes.”

  “What?! You’ve seen the man you’re trying to set me up with, Charlie’s friend, naked? Can this get any worse or weird? Your sloppy seconds for the unlucky spinster sister? Or did you hold an audition to find the best freak for me to date? Did you take out a tape measure, too, just to insure that my precious, aging eggs wouldn’t go to waste? Or is he one of your model friends from Elite? In that case, newsflash Jane – He’s gay!”

  Jane stomped her foot in fury and put her hands on her hips, thereby rendering her sister silent. It had been years since she showed any kind of anger. Stress, yes, but anger hardly ever. She was as even keeled as they came.

  Elizabeth watched in awe as Jane’s Passion Pink lipsticked mouth set in frustration and her perfectly defined eyebrows and forehead crinkled when she narrowed her eyes. She sighed, instantly thankful that Jane hadn’t been roped into Charlie’s sister’s Botox addiction because that beautiful face would then forever remain as placid as her usual demeanor – neither moving up, down or side-to-side.

  “In my dressing room in five, four, three …”

  Elizabeth realized two and one would not be pretty, and the last thing she wanted to do was upset her sister further.

  Jane entered the room behind her with a violent slam to the door, skewing the small Picasso etching beside it on the wall.

  Out of earshot from the argument unfolding behind the dressing room door, the doorbell rang.

  Charlie, now wearing one of Jane’s feminine aprons over his gray trousers and pink dress shirt, opened the door to find his sister, Caroline, holding a dog. They were dressed alike.

  He did a double take at the plaid Burberry nightmare standing on the threshold of the doorstep. She wore a tan Burberry trench coat lined with the signature red, black and Haymarket plaid. Designer tartan had exploded on Greenwich Street: the handbag, the gloves, an absurd bucket hat, and the requisite scarf, all of it nauseating and that was just his sister’s ensemble. The additional accessory, the one breathing - the dog nestled in the crook of her left arm – was adorned in full Burberry as well: plaid jacket trimmed in black velvet ribbon and a matching hat. The poor pooch’s big ears stuck out of rectangle holes from the top. There even graced tiny little Burberry boots on all four paws.

  Caroline barged in, greeting her brother with double air kisses from her newly over-sized, puffed up lips. “Dahlink, Charlie.”

  “Caroline! What are you doing here? Tonight’s … tonight’s not a good night to stop by.” He looked nervously down the hall in fear that Jane would blow a gasket at Crazy-Caro’s intrusion on such a special night.

  “Oh, poo … tonight’s a great night.” She looked around Charlie, down into the hall as well. “Has Fitzwilliam arrived yet?”

  “How … how did you know he was coming tonight?”

  “Why mama, of course, and you know I never miss an opportunity to see Jane and my Mr. Darcy.”

  Nervously Charlie stammered, “You … you can’t stay. Jane didn’t make enough dinner for another guest.” He started to gently push her and the dog toward the door.

  Her voice turned into a simpering doggy-baby voice. “Oh we’re staying, aren’t we my little baby … taco-waco.”

  When she removed her hat, Charlie knew he was defeated. There would be no swaying her determination. He sighed. “New dog, Caro? What happened to Coco?”

  She looked down to the Taco-Terrier in her arms, lifting his snout to her inflated lips. “You’re mama’s new baby aren’t you? That mean ole Coco Chanel turned bitchy didn’t she my little Cancun?”

  It was when the dog replied in his little yappy bark that Charlie knew for certain, one double scotch just wasn’t going to be enough. He thought it was a damn shame that Darcy was on the wagon because he was gonna need a few strong ones, too. “Bitchy? Well I guess that’s what you get when you breed a Bichon with a Poodle.”

  “Oh don’t be so droll, Charlie. A bich-poo breed does not make the temperament of the dog. Coco just grew to be too big for my Chanel puppy purse, and she disliked hanging from my arm. It’s just as well. I needed to go to physical therapy for my rotator cuff after lugging her around.”

  “Where’s the dog now? Did you at least find a good home for her?”

  “Charlie get real, you can’t find a home for an oversized boutique dog. Those matches just can’t be made. I brought her to the ASPCA. They take care of them just fine at that kennel.”

  Caroline promptly deposited the small, curious dog into Charlie’s arms so she could remove her coat. His eyes again were shocked when she revealed a low cut, snugly fitting, orange, animal print wrap-around dress that matched her hair color perfectly.

  He pointed at her chest with his free hand. “Are those new?”

  “Of course. I went to Lindsey Lohan’s plastic surgeon.” With both hands, she squeezed her breasts together. “Firm, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Please Caroline, I’m your brother, and you’re scarring me for life.”

  “You brought them up. Where is Jane? I’m dying to tell her about my newest client. I’m sure she knows her. She used to be a Victoria’s Secret model before she let herself go. Even Antoine can’t fix those crow’s feet or that double chin she’s sporting.”

  Charlie rolled his eyes. “Jane’ll be out in a moment. She’s with her sister getting ready for dinner.”

  “So … Is he here yet?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Good.”

  Leaving Charlie holding the dog in the foyer with Jane’s Warhol-esque silkscreen diptych looking down upon him disapprovingly, Caroline sauntered into the media room.

  She looked around the room with a discerning eye, almost as though Michael Buble’s “Santa Baby” had been appropriately planned as it played.

  “Love what
you’ve done to the place. The holiday decorations are sublime. Can I have a look upstairs? I’d like to make a big entrance when Fitzwilliam arrives.” She ran her hands down her waist and hips, “I bought this especially. Vintage Von Furstenberg. It’s Christmas, dear brother, and I’m one gift he won’t be able to resist.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be the gift that keeps on giving. If you want to go up to the living room, be careful on the stairs with those spike heels of yours. I’ll let you know when Darcy arrives.”

  As soon as she was halfway up the stairs, Charlie put the dog down on the hardwood floor. “Cancun, if you pee or poo on my floor, you’re spending the night in the bathroom.”

  The dog looked up at him, his big ears rotating like huge satellite dishes. Yes, he understood perfectly.

  Charlie bent down, rubbing the dog’s ear. “Do you like this get up she dressed you in? I didn’t think so.” With that, he removed the hat and boots and tossed them onto the nearby oversized leather ottoman. “C’mon buddy, I’ve got eggnog to make before I’m the one in the dog house.” Cancun barked in reply. Yup, this was going to be one hell of a night. He had better spike the eggnog – big time.

  Once Jane zipped Elizabeth into her seductive, silk mandarin dress, she placed both hands on her shoulders, pushing her down onto the vanity bench. Removal of the smart phone from her purse came with pursed lips and a scan through her voicemails.

  Jane held out the phone. “While I take care of your hair, you should listen to this. Maybe it’ll help you focus tonight.”

  “Who is it from?”

  “Mom.”

  “I’ve about had it with your sister. Insolent girl won’t return my phone calls. Does she have any idea what it takes to plan a Christmas dinner? Of course not! If she had a family of her own by now, she would be cooking for us on these holidays. I have to order the standing rib roast and unless she gets back to me, I have no idea how many ribs to purchase. Does her fiancé even eat meat? With that physique of his I’m sure he’s a vegan or a vegetarian, but who’s to say – Who’s to know, unless she gets back to me! She had better not ruin this on me. That man could be the first lucky thing to happen to her. Lizzy better wake up and smell the coffee or it’ll be yet another botched relationship. She could be married already if only she stayed with John Lucas. Foolish, headstrong girl, ruined her life when she broke it off with him if you ask me. Janie, talk some sense into her and tell her she must call me back. Oh, and stop eating those darned chocolates and Christmas cookies or Charlie’s gonna leave you at the altar. Nothing can ruin the perfection of your figure and multi-million dollar career, not to mention a marriage to oil money quicker than a flabby belly and a big backside.”