Annihilate Me: Holiday Edition

by Christina Ross

  “I was thinking of wearing it up in a chignon. That way, he can see my neck.”

  “And your throat. And your face. And the jewels. Right answer,” Blackwell said. “Now, let’s see what happens tonight after we’ve decorated the tree, which I believe we should do as soon as I have a shower. Give me thirty minutes, and I’ll be downstairs. The pie is finished, and I have to say that it looks delicious. When the tree is finished, all of us girls can assemble the hor d’oeuvres, and make sure that the glasses are chilled because I know how much you love your martinis. I’ll also be imbibing. Then we’ll get ready for the evening. Sound like a plan?”

  “You are nothing if not a woman armed with a plan,” I said.

  “I’m just efficient, Jennifer. Watch and learn through osmosis.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “So,” she said, holding out her hands to Lisa. “You had your way with Tank last night. How did that go?”

  Lisa flushed.

  “I don’t want all the messy details, Lisa. Please. I’m just curious if anything significant was said that went beyond all of that noisy grunting and groaning we heard.”

  “You heard that?”

  “My dear, they heard it in Manhattan. They’re talking about it now.”

  “I might have told him that I loved him.”

  “Oh, dear. Well, that was a bold move. What did he say to you.”

  “He, uh—well….”

  “Spit it out, Lisa.”

  “Fine. He climaxed when I said it.”

  Blackwell lifted her chin and patted her bob. “Well, goodness,” she said. “What an unexpected answer. You told him you were in love with him, and he came to completion. How primal of him.” She looked Lisa in the eyes. “But I still consider that a reply of sorts. It obviously was something he wanted to hear—otherwise, if he never wanted to hear those words, he might have gone limp right there.”

  “She has a point,” I said.

  “Of course, I have a point. It’s true. When you’re the first one to say that you love your partner and your partner isn’t ready to hear those words in, well, let’s just say it—an intimate situation—it could lead to coital disaster. Instead, Tank saw stars, nebulas, the universe.”

  “It’s still not a serious reply.”

  “Look, he obviously didn’t respond properly. And, no, this is nothing you’ll share with your children when you’re old and reminiscing about how the two of you first fell in love. But tonight? With you in that dress and looking so pretty with those jewels? Oh, he’ll tell you how he feels. I know that boy. I know what it took for him to trust you enough to be with you last night. It took every ounce of trust he has within him. He’s very careful, that man. After being cheated on by that harpy whose name I won’t speak, he doesn’t take risks with his heart. I think you’ve seen that, and I also think that you’ve probably suffered through it. What you need to know and respect is that he also doesn’t take someone else’s heart lightly, Lisa. Tank is a man. Before him, you dated infants. Fine, he hasn’t exactly said the words, but you did get a response of some sort. So, tonight? Tonight, we try to seal the deal and see what happens. At some point, he’ll probably take you aside and say something meaningful to you. Just between you two. Of course exactly what he’ll say is the mystery.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Later that evening, after the tree was decorated and Alex and I helped Alexa make her snowman so it faced the ocean “before the acidity becomes too much and we no longer even having a living ocean,” she said in despair, everyone went to their respective bedrooms to get ready for the night.

  It was Christmas Eve. Blackwell had holiday music playing, the tree was lit, full and lovely, a wealth of presents was tucked beneath it, stockings were stuffed and hanging by the fireplace, and the anticipation was high for a grand night ahead.

  Alex and I changed privately. Neither of us wanted to know what the other one was wearing. While he got ready in the bedroom, I finished flat-ironing my hair in the bathroom and then turned to the dress that hung on a hook on the back of the bathroom door.

  I chose to wear a floor-length V-neck velvet gown with a cutout front, and a diamond cutout back by Stella McCartney. When I slipped into it, it was slimming and stunning, a statement dress in which I wanted to surprise one man and one man only. It cost me a small fortune, but turning in front of the mirror and seeing how the dress puddled at my feet, even in three-inch heels, I knew it was worth it.

  This will get him, I thought.

  I kept Bernie’s techniques in mind when I finished applying my makeup. I wanted a smoky eye and a pouty red lip, which he’d shown me how to do several times. The lips were nothing to pull off, but the smoky eye? That was a challenge. I gave it my best shot, and actually was pleased with the results. With my hair pulled away from my face and hanging straight down my back, I thought the look was appropriately formal and dramatic.

  Thank you, Bernie!

  For jewelry, I chose to wear the Tiffany Black Onyx Floral Bracelet that was a recent gift from Alex. It was a sparkling tapestry of platinum-set diamond leaves composed of round brilliant diamonds, in the center of which was a sixty-carat black onyx. It was a masterpiece of ridiculously intricate design.

  Since my dress was sleeveless, I needed something substantial on my right wrist, which is where I wore it. My left hand would only bear my engagement ring—nothing else would take away from it. For earrings, I chose large diamond studs and for a necklace, a massive teardrop diamond that hung just above my breasts.

  Finished, I sprayed perfume on my fingertip, pressed it behind each ear so it was subtle and not overpowering, and then I took a breath and critiqued myself in the mirror. Without Bernie or Blackwell’s help, this was the best that I could do by myself, but because I had learned at their hand for so many months, their influence was everywhere. Because of them and what they’d taught me, I had the tools to pull it together and look good.

  Now, to see Alex.

  When I left the bathroom, he was standing at the foot of the bed waiting for me with his hands in his pockets and that quirky grin of is on his face.

  “Damn,” he said when he saw me. “You look amazing.”

  “Do you think? It’s not as if I had the luxury of Bernie and Blackwell. This is all on me. I hope you like it—and I hope that she approves.”

  “I love it—what’s not to love? Blackwell will be proud of you. You look incredible, Jennifer. Sexy as hell.”

  He was wearing a classic black tux, beautiful shoes, and his hair was parted on the side and slicked back with some sort of gel—his hair glistened. “Could you be more handsome?” I asked.

  “Probably.”

  “Probably not.”

  I went over to him and kissed him lightly on the lips so as not to get too much lipstick on them. But I did, anyway. I brushed it away with my fingertip while he looked at my necklace.

  “Are you sure you want to wear that?” he asked.

  “Doesn’t it work? I have others. What did you have in mind?”

  “This.”

  From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a diamond necklace and held it up for me. “I had a feeling that you’d be wearing the bracelet I bought you recently, so I went ahead and bought you this. I hope you don’t mind. Like the bracelet, it’s in the Art Deco-style. What do you think?”

  I just stared at it in surprise. “It’s beautiful,” I said. And it was. I recognized it from one of the necklaces featured in the windows at Tiffany on Fifth. It was a Tiffany Circlet motif draped in complex ropes of round diamonds. It must have been twenty inches long, which was perfect for the dress I was wearing, and which complemented my bracelet far better than the teardrop diamond necklace I’d chosen.

  “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “But I wanted to do this. Do you like it? Would you like to wear it tonight? You don’t have to.”

  “Are you serious?” I held up my bracelet next to it and said, “Look how well they go together.
It’s as if they were made for each other. Thank you so much. I want to smother you with kisses right now, but then we’d be an hour late. I’d have to redo everything, and you’d never get my lipstick off you.”

  “Maybe I’ll worry about that later.”

  “Maybe you will.”

  “Here. Turn around. Let’s see how it looks.”

  “I can’t believe you bought me this.”

  “It’s one of your Christmas presents from me.”

  “One of them?”

  “One of them. Tonight, we’re sharing with our friends the date that we’re getting married. I wanted to buy you something special for that occasion. You’re only going to enjoy it once, you know?”

  “Oh, Alex….”

  I turned my back to him and felt his warm hands against my skin while he removed one necklace, and replaced it with his gift to me. I pressed the cold stones against my throat and décolleté, and then I turned back to him. “What do you think?”

  He appraised me for a moment before he said, “I already know what I think. What’s more important is what you think.” He motioned toward the large, antique walnut armoire that was in the corner of the room, on the front of which was a floor-length oval mirror. “Have a look.”

  I went over to it, but the bedroom lighting was too dim to have a good look. So, I went into the bathroom, switched on the lights, and was struck by how perfect the necklace was, from the intricate craftsmanship to the sheer delicacy of the design. I loved it. It was a far-better match for my bracelet. Once again, he got it right. Once again, I was beyond grateful. How is this my life? I wondered again. How did this ever happen to me?

  I’d never understand it, but here I was. Looking at myself, I felt humbled and a little overwhelmed by my good fortune. When Lisa and I first came to Manhattan in May, we had saved just enough money by waiting tables at Pat’s throughout college to afford a few months’ worth of rent in the city, and a little left over to eat Raman noodles, drink cheap vodka, drink cheaper coffee, and to pay the electric bill while I looked for work. Months passed before that that happened with Wenn. Now, after one mother of a circuitous route, I somehow was here. I didn’t understand exactly how that had happened, but it nevertheless had happened. Why me? I was nothing special. I came from poverty and an abusive family. How could this be my life now?

  I looked at myself and thought, How did you ever get so lucky?

  Alex leaned into the doorway. “So?”

  It was at that point that I fell into his arms, threw caution to the wind, and covered his lips and his cheeks with a blizzard of kisses. When I was finished, we stood in front of the mirror again, and began to fix the damage I’d created.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  When we went down to the second floor, everything was in full swing.

  Dinah Washington was singing “Silent Night” from the iPod dock, which made me think of my Aunt Marion and Uncle Vaughn, long since deceased. My Aunt Marion always played Dinah Washington, Gladys Knight, Luther Vandross, Barbra Streisand, and Aretha Franklin over the holidays. It was one of my favorite memories, because with each of them, I always felt safe and loved in ways that I didn’t at home.

  I felt a little guilty that we were late, but nobody seemed to mind. When we stepped into the living room, everyone already had a drink in their hands, including Blackwell, who was sipping a martini, as was everyone else save for Tank, who had a tall glass of Guinness in his hand, and who looked like very handsome in his own fitted tux.

  God, that man is huge.

  Unlike Alex, Tank stepped it up a notch. His bow tie was bright red, either to match Lisa’s dress or to give a nod to the holidays, and frankly, I never would have expected that’s what he’d wear. He always seemed so conservative to me. That bright flash of red was unexpected, but also welcomed. Who was Tank? I had a feeling that over time, I was about to find out.

  His choice of tie showed me another side of him that I kind of loved—it was a looser side, and a willingness to take a chance and have fun. With Lisa on his arm in her gorgeous red dress and with her hair pulled tightly behind her in a chignon, I thought they looked like the perfect couple. My heart beat a little faster when I noticed that they were holding hands. I winked at Lisa, and she blinked her eyes at me when I saw her gaze go to the necklace at my throat. Then she looked at my dress and at my bracelet, and she shook her head at me. “More later,” I mouthed to her.

  “Well,” Blackwell said to Alex and me. “Did you mean to make an entrance? No? I have to wonder. Still, you did. And I have to say that you both did it well, and that you look divoon. Jennifer, it’s as if you were just with Bernie—well done, my dear. Well done. You’ve paid attention, so good for you. And Alex, you look on point in your tux. So, come and have a cocktail with us. Have one of the many hor d’oeuvres we’ve assembled. None of us have had dinner, not that I ever wanted dinner. I crunched through a lovely glassful of ice while I was getting ready. But I know that others are probably hungry, so look around at the different tables. See the platters? In the kitchen, there’s all sorts of food on the island.”

  “You look beautiful,” I said to her.

  “This old thing?”

  “This old thing my ass. What are you wearing?”

  “I’ve already told you. Dior.”

  “Well, it’s not old.”

  She held out her arms and turned in front of me so I could admire the full-length, navy-blue evening dress she was wearing while Alex said in my ear that he was going to go and get us two martinis.

  “OK, so it might be new.”

  “It new and chic,” I said. “And those pearls are beyond.”

  “Do you like them?”

  “Are you joking?”

  “Robbing oysters of their pearls is one of the worst things someone could do,” Alexa said. “In fact, it’s a detriment to the oceanic world. Oysters work for years to cultivate their pearls. Taking them away from them is no different than stealing away a child away from its mother.”

  Blackwell turned to her. “Here’s a pearl of wisdom for you, my dear daughter—one of these days, these pearls will make life very easy for you. So will the other things I’ve acquired over the years.”

  “I don’t want an easy life.”

  “I’m not suggesting that you should have one. You should work hard. Hard work is important. But when you’ve spoon-fed me my last bit of applesauce and I’ve dropped dead in my wheelchair, everything I have will go to you and your sister. You can either be foolish and give your share away to charity, which I wouldn’t put past you, or you can invest it for your future. I recommend the latter. Now,” Blackwell said when she turned back to me with fire in her eyes, “let me have a look at that necklace. It’s fantastic.”

  “Alex just gave it to me.”

  “Look how it complements your bracelet.”

  “It was intentional.”

  “I do love that boy.”

  “You’re not alone. How did I ever get to be so lucky, Barbara? I’m not talking about the things that he’s given me—I’m talking about him. Being with him. How did I ever get so lucky?”

  “Why do you even question it?” she said. “You two are meant for each other—it’s obvious to everyone. Just enjoy it. It’s fine if you feel grateful, but that man in the kitchen? The one I can hear shaking your drinks? I’m here to tell you that he’d be the first to say that he was the luckiest one of all. So. Consider that.”

  * * *

  It was deep into the party that Alex and I decided to tell everyone the date of our wedding. At that point, we were on our second martini, we’d made the rounds and talked with everyone, we’d nibbled on all sorts of appetizers, and there was the sense that the evening was winding down.

  Tomorrow was a big day for Blackwell—she was determined to make Christmas dinner. Whether she allowed any of us to help her was still in question, but after the success she and her daughters had with the desserts, I had a feeling that tomorrow she planned on being a one-
woman show. And I was worried about that.

  I nudged Alex’s arm. “Should we do this?”

  “I’ve been ready to do this since you first accepted the ring.”

  I smiled at that. “Do you think this is the right time?”

  “Sure. It’s getting late. Let’s turn down the music and talk with our friends.”

  “Just one thing. How about if we first get a tray filled with flutes of champagne for everyone? Then we’ll make the announcement?”

  “Perfect. But Tank probably would prefer another Guinness.”

  “Then it’s a Guinness for Tank.”

  When we returned with the drinks on a round silver platter, Alex turned down the music, I started offering everyone a glass, and then I went over to Lisa and Tank. “Lisa, champagne for you. Tank, a Guinness for you.”

  “What’s this about?” Lisa asked me.

  “You’ll see. And by the way, Tank, I haven’t told you yet, but your red bow tie is adorable.”

  “Adorable? I don’t know if I was going for adorable.”

  “Well, it is.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I guess I can do adorable. My grandmother used to call me that when I was a kid.”