by Dee Ernst
Patricia looked over at MarshaMarsha. “Cad? Is that really the best you can come up with? He’s beyond cad. He’s a complete and utter—”
There was a loud knock behind us, and the front door opened cautiously. David’s head peeked in.
“Hey, Mona, Is it okay for me to come in?”
I pulled the door wide and kissed his cheek. “I’m clueless here, David. So come on in. Hey, Ben.”
He was wearing his dark wool coat, not his work jacket, with a red wool scarf wrapped around his throat. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold, his hair was tousled, and there was a faint shadow on his jaw.
Oh, m’gosh.
He touched my cheek and gave me a light kiss on my forehead. I resisted the urge to drag him into the guest bathroom and scatter some silver and lavender balls around. After all, we weren’t those two people anymore.
“And how are things?” he asked, pulling off his gloves.
“The kids are going to have to buy another house just to fit all this stuff. The food is amazing; make sure you grab a plate. Lily is behaving, and Carmella brought her sisters. The three of them are kind of hard to miss.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I can see that. They certainly look a lot alike, don’t they?”
Anthony, honing in on Ben, returned from the dining room. “Now that David is here, they’re going to say a few words, then get the bulldozer in here to collect their presents. Hey, Ben, you’re looking quite dashing.”
“You too, Anthony. I’ve got my truck, and I’ll take most of this back to my place.” He shrugged out of his coat and hung it in the closet. “I’m going to grab some food.” He headed for the dining room. I narrowed my eyes as Carmella casually rose from her chair, making a subtle “follow me” gesture to her sisters, and headed after him. Nina and Pinta followed smoothly. Lily, deep in conversation with Phyllis, lifted an eyebrow as they left, glanced around, found Ben, then shot me a look. She returned to Phyllis, barely missing a beat.
The noise in the dining room was pretty intense. The long table had been pushed against one wall opposite a huge breakfront, and all the food was laid out. The dining chairs, along with pretty folding chairs, were grouped in twos and threes around small round tables covered with gray tablecloths. The young women were all sitting, standing, leaning—some were stretched out on the floor, texting. The noise was interrupted—kind of a wave of silence—as Ben made his way toward the food and was noticed by every single female in the room. Yes, he was old enough to be the father of most of them, but his kind of looks were ageless.
I watched Carmella. Man, she was slick. She didn’t touch Ben, but introduced her sisters, manipulating herself so that her boobs never bumped his arm, but he was very aware of her trying to avoid the collision. Her sisters were showing no such restraint. Ben was getting a big-boob massage from both of them.
He stood, half-filled plate in one hand, a spoonful of spring peas in cream sauce in the other, with a very faint smile on his face as he nodded, often, and tried to move. The man was trapped. Those three women closed in around him and had him as helpless as if he’d been surrounded by iron bars. He caught my eye.
Half of me was screaming obscenities at Carmella and her vile and obvious plan to hijack Ben right in front of my nose. But the other half of me kind of enjoyed seeing Ben in a completely new situation—uncomfortable around a woman. Or rather, a trio of women. He recognized a superior enemy and was actually awaiting rescue.
I squared my shoulders and walked over.
There were a few square inches of Ben’s back that were not covered by one of the sisters, but that was all I needed. I slid both of my arms around his waist and brought the palms of my hands up the front of his shirt, bringing my head over his shoulder. “Ben, darling, here you are. I was afraid you’d been shanghaied.”
Ben turned his head toward mine, his eyes dancing, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “Almost.”
The sisters fell back a step, and I slid in under his arm, taking the spoonful of peas and putting it back in the bowl. “Not those, Ben.” I reached over and plucked a tiny crab cake off a platter. “These were amazing,” I cooed, holding it up in front of his mouth.
He leaned forward and took it from my fingertips, chewed, swallowed, then smiled appreciatively. “Yes. Amazing.”
I made a little pouty face and held up my thumb. A stray bit of crab cake clung. He bent his head, took my thumb in his mouth, and when I drew it out, the stray bit was gone.
“The best part,” he said.
Luckily I was sort of leaning against him, because I swear my knees buckled just a little.
Behind me, Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria breathed a collective sigh.
I beamed at them. “Isn’t the food marvelous?” I asked.
They all nodded, perfectly synchronized.
I focused on Carmella. “Do you think you’ll use these folks for your dad’s wedding?” I asked, keeping a fixed smile.
Her eyes narrowed, but she pasted on her professional face. “Yes, I think so. Being local helps.”
“Yes,” I agreed. I could feel Ben relax a little.
“I’m going to get more food,” he said, and moved away.
I stood firm, blocking any attempt Carmella might have made to follow. I turned to the other sisters. “Are you ladies getting excited?”
Suzi was wearing a dark blue scarf, distinguishing her from Enza, who was wearing a black-and-gold scarf. “Yes. Carmella seems to be doing her usual fantastic job,” she said.
“And on such a short timeline,” Enza added.
I nodded. “She’s a very fast worker.”
We all smiled.
I saw that Ben had made it over to the Lily zone and was seated next to his sister. I grabbed another crab cake, popped it in my mouth, and backed away slowly.
Miranda and David made a glorious couple. David was not quite as handsome as Ben, but he was still rather a stunner. Miranda had always been pretty, and as I watched her laughing with Marion, her arm through David’s, I realized what was different. She was a woman in love. She did shine. She was radiating happiness. Suddenly, placed next to this lovely young man, she reflected his obvious devotion.
Wow, I thought.
Ben was leaning in to hear something his sister had said. He glanced up, caught my eye, and nodded briefly—Thanks.
I felt the usual jolt—first in my throat, then down to my belly.
When I stood next to Ben, was I equally transformed?
Carmella appeared at my shoulder, watching Ben. “Do you want him or not?”
“Of course.”
“Then do something quick, sister. Because I will take him if I can.”
“But you can’t, Carmella. He’s in love with me.”
She turned her head and looked at me. “And how stupid are you to think that’s enough?”
Then she walked away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ANTHONY CAME OVER. AS OF 12:01 a.m. on January fourth, three of my books went on sale. We had discussed a preorder option, and then decided against it. We had sent out a newsletter informing readers what was coming up. Anthony had launched a huge Facebook campaign, and a few of my favorite reviewers and bloggers promised to give a shout-out. I tried to write. Anthony went from one retail site to another, hitting the refresh button, trying to track sales. This was big. Actually, it was huge. Was I going to be one of those self-publishing success stories that would rise to the top of the best sellers list all over again, or was I going to sink slowly into who-was-she-again oblivion?
“Am I rich yet?” I asked him—again—around one in the afternoon.
Anthony sighed. “Why won’t you show me what Ben got you for Christmas?”
“It’s just a piece of jewelry.”
Anthony turned away from the computer. “The words just and jewelry never appear in the same sentence. It’s a rule.”
“Is not.” Anthony was right. It was not just a piece of jewelry. It was something bea
utiful that also said a lot about Ben and me in just a few words. “Anthony, how many books have I sold?”
He’d been writing things down. He frowned at his notebook, then smiled. “Probably enough for a bauble.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Now show me that present.”
“It’s in the house.”
“I can wait.” He sat back, folded his arms across his chest, then raised his eyebrows. “I got nowhere else to be, baby cakes. I can wait here all day.”
I glared at him, got up, went down the stairs, then ran into the house.
Ben’s gift was back under the tree, right next to the beautiful cashmere shawl Lauren and Jess had gotten for me. I grabbed the shawl and Ben’s little box and went back out to the garage.
Anthony had—seriously—not moved an inch, but his eyes lit up as I got to the top of the stairs. “That shawl is gorgeous! Who?”
“Thing One and Thing Two,” I told him. “They’re getting much better at gift giving. Remember the year they gave me Zumba lessons?”
I handed him the bracelet, and he turned it over carefully in his hands, reading the inscription out loud. “What does it mean?”
“It’s from a quote that Ben found. ‘You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.’”
“Oh, how beautiful! Who said it? Robert Browning? I love Browning.”
“Dr. Seuss.”
His face fell. “Are you kidding?”
“No. Seuss was a very smart man.”
“Sure, if you’re a red fish or blue fish.”
“I once told Ben that being in love with him was better than anything I could have written. Then he found that quote.”
“See, I told you the two of you just needed time. Let’s face it—the man is crazy for you.”
Oh, Anthony, I so wish that I could believe you.
Miranda called me—again.
So far, in one week, she had called me to tell me that she loved her job, hated her job, hated Boston snow, made a friend at work, loved her job again, and had cooked a roast chicken for dinner that took her only three and a half hours.
And it was only Wednesday.
“Mom, I just got an RSVP from Aunt Grace.”
We had sent my older sister, Grace, an invitation to the wedding as a pure formality. Although I had flown out for the weddings of three of her five sons, Grace had not left Oregon in more than twenty years, and as far as I knew had never gotten on a plane to anywhere. She had driven to Florida once a year when our mother was still alive, but she had often voiced her contempt for the East Coast. New Jersey, in particular, was full of idiots, religious conservatives, money-mongering opportunists, and Republicans. She would remain on her commune, surrounded by like-minded liberal, environmentally correct, nonmaterialistic animal lovers, thank you very much.
“Well, honey, we knew she wouldn’t come out here.”
“Yeah? Well, that’s the thing. She is coming. With a guest.”
“Really?”
She giggled. “Uncle Shadow.”
Let’s face it, “Uncle Shadow” is a little tough to say with a straight face.
I stared out my kitchen window for a moment, focusing on a left-hand corner of my garage, trying to collect my thoughts. Was she really going to drive all the way out here? What could have prompted such an outburst of family loyalty? She’d certainly never shown any before. “Really?”
“Yes. She asked for the names of hotels in the area.”
“Really?” That was still the best I could manage.
“Mom?”
“Yes. I’m here. I’ll send her an e-mail.” There were no phone lines at the commune, and no cell phone service. But three times a week one of her sons drove into town with a laptop, as most of Shadow’s business was now conducted online. An e-mail was better than snail mail, the usual means of communication between my sister and myself.
Lily was home—Vinnie had flown out to Las Vegas for the week, and Lily had declined to go with him. She had been sitting across from me, and looked concerned. “What, dear?”
“Grace and Shadow are coming to the wedding.”
Her coffee mug hit the tabletop. “Really?”
See—it wasn’t just me.
“Yes. And she was asking for names of nearby hotels.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” I sat back down and my eyes met Aunt Lily’s.
“You know, I’m practically moved out of my rooms,” Lily said. “You could ask her to stay here.”
I leaned back. “How is that going? Playing house with Vinnie?”
She smiled a slightly wicked smile. “I’m having the time of my life. It’s nice that he’s away right now—you know how I enjoy my private time—but I miss him. He’s a darling man.”
I would not go so far as to call him a darling anything, but I had to admit he’d grown on me a little bit in the past few months.
“Grace and I…” I began. I stopped. Grace and I what? Were never close? Had absolutely nothing in common? Lived on opposite sides of the country for a good reason?
“Exactly,” Lily said. “It’s time for you and Grace to reconnect.”
“That statement implies that there once was a connection. I don’t think that was ever true.”
“I remember you as children. You adored her. And she once told me that she thought you were the sweetest person on earth.”
“How old was I when she said that?”
“Six. But still, family ties are very strong. This is a wonderful opportunity for you both.”
“For us both to do what?”
She leaned forward and grabbed my hand. “I’m old, Mona. And I have learned a great deal in my life. Family is the most important thing there is, whether it’s the family you were born into or the family you create. If you have a chance to make a real connection with your sister, take it. Who knows when you’ll have another opportunity.”
So I sent Grace an e-mail inviting her and Shadow to stay with me for as long as they liked.
And I got an e-mail back, saying they accepted.
The week before Miranda and David’s wedding, the entire bridal party, as well as their friends and family members, got on a private yacht docked off South Street Seaport, and sailed around the island of Manhattan as the winter sun was setting. There was food and champagne and soft music.
David’s roommate from Yale, a serious young man named Roy Smith, had landed some sort of stock market job in his father’s firm. It must have paid very well, because in addition to the yacht, food, champagne, there were several white-jacketed waitpersons buzzing around, replacing half-empty champagne flutes with brisk efficiency. Lauren and Jessica got tipsy right away. I knew that their demographic was used to warm vodka, straight, so I could only blame their condition on the unfamiliar bubbles.
It was a lovely evening. The bridal party had filled out to include a few young people who would be doing readings during the ceremony. Also included was the harp player (a friend of Miranda’s from Boston), a few young Yale types (extra ushers), and Father McLaren, who would be marrying the couple in a week.
Brian looked happy and relaxed. Dominique did not. Dominique walked back and forth between the food table and the bar, while Brian charmed the few younger women who had not been forewarned by Miranda.
Ben asked me to dance, then suggested we go to the empty upper deck. My whole body tingled. Dancing with Ben was one of the best things ever. His arms around me, my head on his shoulder—even on a damp and cold night like this one, I knew it would be the highlight of my day.
“This,” I said to him, “is so much better than separate bachelor and bachelorette parties.”
“I agree. Although I haven’t had a lap dance in a while.”
I tilted my head up to his and arched my eyebrows. “Maybe later?”
He did not laugh. He didn’t even smile.
“What?”
He tightened his arms around
me. “I’ve got a job. Luxury condos. Very high-end. Waterfront.”
“That’s great. Where?”
“Maine.”
“The state of Maine?”
“Yes.”
I tucked my head back against his shoulder and didn’t say anything for a while. Finally: “When?”
“They want me there now. I told them right after the wedding.”
“Ah.”
The music changed, something Latin and upbeat. Ben stepped back. “I’ll probably be gone for two or three months.”
I stared at the decking. “How often will you be coming home?”
“I don’t know.”
I took a deep breath. “I thought that after the wedding, you and I were going to talk things out. Isn’t that what you said we’d do?”
“I thought it would work out that way. But let’s face it, Mona, we’re both dug in. What could I possibly say to you that would make you marry me that hasn’t already been said? Besides, this job is…well, it’s an opportunity.”
“Of course.” I looked up at him. It was cold and his breath was visible in the pale light from inside the yacht. “What do you want us to do?”
He shrugged. “We’re still friends, Mona. We will always be friends.”
I nodded, but my brain was screaming, No! I did not want us to be friends. I wanted us to go back to what we’d been before, lovers, partners, two halves of a glorious whole.
“I will always love you.”
I nodded again, feeling suddenly cold and empty.
“I’ll be back in time for Lily’s wedding. I would not miss that for the world.”
“Of course not,” I said, my voice cracking a little. “You know, it’s getting nasty out here. I think I want to go inside now.”
He took my arm, and we walked down the stairs and into the closed lower deck. People were still laughing. Miranda and David were engaged in a deep conversation with Father McLaren. Jessica and Lauren were both dancing with Ethan, and he was blushing from exertion. Brian caught my eye and nodded.
It looked like the world had continued on after all.
