Kathleen woke up at seven a.m. on Thanksgiving morning and decided she'd been working in an office for too long-not since high school had her body been so trained to wake up early that she couldn't sleep in late, even on a holiday. But the end of all that early rising was in sight. One way or another, she figured her days at Porter and Wachtell were numbered. Maybe even in the single digits.
She hadn't decided yet if she would be leaving the company at some point soon because she was going to marry the owner's son or because she wasn't. The only thing she knew for sure about her future was that it wouldn't involve any more coffee pouring or errand running. Those activities had lost their fascination, as had the water cooler gossip.
It was possible, she thought now, stretching and yawning on her airbed, that her loss of interest in the job proved that she hadn't changed and that she was still the same old Kathleen, easily bored and in search of the next new thrill. But she preferred to look at it as yet another sign of her budding maturity, that she could now assess a situation and accept calmly and rationally that what had once suited her no longer did.
Which was definitely true about her job.
The real question was whether it was also true about her love life.
Did being mature mean you continued to work at a relationship that had lost its interest and its excitement, because you knew that ultimately the rewards of constancy far outweighed its disappointments?
Or did a fully realized human being cut her losses and move on when the glow had faded?
Kathleen hadn't been pursuing this goal of maturity long enough to know the answer. She was hoping that Thanksgiving at the Porter household would give her some clues-if not about what she should do, then at least about what she wanted to do.
She lingered as long as she could in bed, but when she finally got up, it was still only eight-fifteen. She wasn't due at Kevin's parents until three that afternoon. Kevin was already there-his parents liked their children and grandchildren to spend the nights before Thanksgiving and Christmas at their more or less ancestral home. Spouses and children were included in the overnight slumber party. Girlfriends-even those invited to the holiday dinner-were not.
With nothing else to do, Kathleen decided to go for a long run. By the time she got back, she was dizzy from exercising without having eaten anything. She searched her kitchen but could only find an ice-frosted pint of ice cream and some cheese that had turned green.
She figured she'd have better luck upstairs.
Sam was still in his bathrobe and pajama bottoms. He greeted her with a scowl. “You don't have to beat the crap out of the door. I can hear you even if you knock like a civilized human being.”“I’m hungry,” Kathleen said.
“Good of you to come by to tell me.”
“Come on,” she said. “Get dressed. Let's go get something to eat.” She had showered and was now wearing torn jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. She'd change into something nice before dinner.
Sam shook his head. “It's Thanksgiving morning, Kathleen. Nothing's open.”
“I passed a McDonald's on my run and it was open.”
“I’m not going to McDonald's on Thanksgiving morning.”
“Why not?” she said. “Against your religion or something?”
“Just come in.” He stepped back with a sigh of resignation. “I’ll make eggs.”
“Good. I’ll go see if the Macy's Day Parade has started.” She headed toward the hallway.
“It's the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade,” he said. “There's no such thing as Macy's Day.”
“Whatever.”
“How you can waste your time watching that-”
She turned. “Oh, come on. It's an American tradition. Did you know my sisters were on a float one year?”
“Wow,” he said. “You must have been so proud.”
“I’ll be in the den,” she said. “Can you make my eggs sunny-side up? With the yolk runny?”
“You're not eating runny yolks on my sofa,” he said. “I’ll make them, but you have to come back in here to eat them.”
She rolled her eyes. “You spill something once and it's like some natural disaster.”
“You spill every time you're here,” Sam said. “That's not an accident, it's a pattern.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She went and stretched out on the sofa and watched the parade until Sam called that the eggs were ready. She ran back into the kitchen and was sitting down, reaching for her fork, before he'd even put her plate on the table.
“So why are you alone on Thanksgiving?” she asked him through a mouthful of eggs. She was crazy hungry.
“Put the napkin in your lap,” he said, glaring at her from under his thick dark eyebrows. “And remember to use it.”
“You didn't answer my question.”
“And stop talking with your mouth full. I’m not alone on Thanksgiving, Kathleen. I’m having breakfast with you, and, in just a few hours, I’ll be having Thanksgiving dinner with my ex-wife and daughter and former in-laws. Any other questions?”
“Your former in-laws?”
“Yes.” When she just stared at him blankly, he said, “Patricias parents.”
“I’m confused.”
“Do you need me to draw you a chart?”
“No,” she said and stuck another forkful of egg in her mouth. She swallowed. “I get who you're seeing. I just don't get why. Do you like seeing them?”
He laughed out loud. He, of course, had carefully spread his napkin over his lap. He was still in his bathrobe, but his manners were as impeccable as always. “No, actually, I don't. You ask the right questions, Kathleen, I’ll give you that.”
She wiggled in her seat like a child given a compliment. “So why go?”
“Because I want to be with Joanna, and that's where she'll be.”
“Why not ask her to come and have Thanksgiving alone with you?”
“Because she likes being with the whole family. And I don't want to take something she likes away from her.”
“Huh,” Kathleen said. “Can I have some more eggs?”
“Did you finish those already? Jesus, you're a pig. That was three whole eggs. Extra-large.”
“I’ve been up since eight and I went running. And I think I forgot to eat dinner last night.”
He sat back and regarded her. “Does it ever occur to you to stock the refrigerator with food and actually cook for yourself? You have a fully functional gourmet kitchen down there, you know.”
She shrugged. “I don't know how to cook.”
“It's not hard. You just follow directions. People teach themselves to cook all the time. All it requires is a tiny bit of effort and forethought-although it is possible you're not capable of either.”
“I’m capable of enough forethought to ask you for more eggs before I’ve eaten all my toast.” She tilted her head with a smile that showed all her teeth, top and bottom.
“Someone must have told you you were cute when you were little,” Sam said, “and we're all paying the price now.”
“No one ever told me I was cute when I was little,” Kathleen said. “That's what people said to the twins. I was the responsible one.”
“You've got to be kidding.”
“No, really, I was. Somewhere along the way, I got less responsible, I guess. But the twins are still cute. I don't know what that leaves me.”
“You have the biggest appetite of any girl I’ve ever seen,” Sam said. “That's something.”
“Does that mean I get more eggs?”
He stood up. “Come on. I’ll show you how to make them, so next time you'll do it yourself and let me eat in peace.”
“I don't want to learn how,” she said. “I want you to make them for me.”
“You're going to learn.” He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.
By the time she left his apartment, she could cook eggs three different ways. Sam said he'd teach her to do an omelet next, but added that he wasn't convinced it was within her capabilities.
Wow,” Lucy said as Sari's mother kissed her on the cheek. “You look great, Mrs. Hill.”
Lucy sounded sincere, so Sari squinted at her mother, trying to see her through someone else's eyes.
Eloise Hill was a small, pretty, well-groomed woman of fifty-nine. Her thick hair was dyed a streaky blond and cut in a neat bob, and had been for as long as Sari could remember. For Thanksgiving, she was dressed in precisely tailored khaki pants, a striped blue sweater, and a pair of dark brown loafers, all very neat and nautical. She looked, as she often did, as if she had wandered out of a Ralph Lauren family photo.
For a moment, Sari let herself believe her mother was as lovely and normal as she appeared and hugged her with real warmth. “I was so delighted when Sari called to tell us she'd be bringing you!” her mother said to Lucy over her shoulder. “It feels just like old times.” She released her daughter and stepped back. “I hope you two don't mind that I didn't cook the meal myself-I picked the whole meal up from Gelson's, right down to the stuffing and cranberries. It's a terrible cheat, I know.”
“Are you kidding?” Sari said. “We're both delighted you didn't cook.”
“Oh, you,” her mother said and pushed her arm affectionately.
Look at us, Sari thought. We're adorable. Maybe this time everything will be fine.
“Your father's watching football in the bedroom,” her mother said. “Actually, I think he fell asleep, or I know he would have come out to greet you. I’ll go tell him you're here.”
“Where's Charlie?”
“In the family room, watching one of his movies.” She turned to Lucy. “He'll be so happy to see you.” She smiled and the edges of her lips made neat little corners in her cheeks.
Sari and Kathleen went on into the family room, which hadn't changed in twenty years. Charlie sat on the faded brown leather sofa, watching TV. He was fatter than he'd been the last time Sari had seen him, fatter than he'd ever been, and he'd been pretty fat before. He didn't seem to notice when they entered the room.
“Shit,” Sari said, grabbing Lucy's arm. “Look at that.” She pointed to a pile of Balance Bars on the coffee table in front of him. There were a bunch of torn empty wrappers lying next to them. “We're about to eat Thanksgiving dinner and she goes and gives him a stack of Balance Bars. Just so he won't bother her.”
Lucy didn't say anything.
Sari sat down on the sofa next to her brother and took his hand. “Charlie?”
He glanced up. “Hi, Sari,” he said casually, as if it hadn't been over six months since they'd last seen each other.
She took his hand and squeezed it hard. He squeezed back. He didn't like to be hugged, so Sari always greeted him that way, and he always responded in kind. She was never sure whether it was an affectionate gesture on his part or just a learned response, but it felt affectionate to her.
“How've you been, mister?” she said.
“Good,” he said, still watching the TV. Star Wars was playing-the original one, with Mark Hamill.
Sari said, “Charlie. This is my friend Lucy. Do you remember her from high school?”
He shook his head.
“Please say hi to her, Charlie.”
“Hi,” he said, watching the TV.
“Hi,” Lucy said. “Nice to see you again.”
“Look at her, please,” Sari said. “Charlie, look at Lucy and shake her hand.”
Lucy extended her hand, and Charlie obligingly stuck out his own hand toward the TV set.
“No,” Sari said. “Not like that. Look at Lucy. Look at her, or I’ll turn the TV off.”
“Oh, leave him alone!” her mother said from the doorway, behind Lucy's back. Startled, Lucy dropped her hand as Eloise Hill came forward. “You know how I feel about this, Sari.” She turned to Lucy. “Sari likes to get Charlie all worked up.”
“He should know how to greet people,” Sari said.
“Stop it,” her mother said. “I want you to stop it now. It's not going to be like this, not this time. It's Thanksgiving. We are not going to ruin it by fighting.”
“Who's fighting?” Sari said. “I’m just trying to help him.”
“You're not trying to help him, you're trying to change him. Let him be himself. He is what he is. Why can't you accept that?”
“Because he could be better than this,” Sari said. “I’ve seen so many kids turn around, Mom. Adults, too. What Ellen does is amazing-”
Her mother made a noise of disgust. “Here we go again, with the amazing Ellen.”
“Please let me take him to see her. Please. I’m begging you.”
“He doesn't like to leave the house. It makes him nervous.”
“That's a reason to get him out more. Take him to do fun things, so he-”
“There was a time,” her mother said, “when you begged me to keep him at home all day long. When you said he shouldn't have to go to school, that he was better off at home, that you were better off with him at home. Or don't you remember?”
“I remember,” Sari said. “I was just a kid.”
“You said the other students were mean to him at school, even violent sometimes, and he needed to be somewhere safe. You begged me to send him to private school-remember? And when I said we couldn't afford it, you said, ‘Can't we just keep him at home then?’”
“I didn't know anything,” Sari said. “I know more now.”
“We had to send him to school then,” her mother said. “It was the law. But in a way you were right. He's always been happiest at home. I mean, look at him now. He's completely in the moment, just happy to be here.”
“That's because he doesn't know any better. You haven't let him see what else is out there, what he might be capable of. He could have friends, a job, interests outside of sitting on his ass watching movies-”
“Watch your language,” Sari's mother said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “This is who Charlie is. And if you can't accept him the way he is, if all you can do is judge him without sympathy or kindness, then you have no right to sit there and hold his hand and claim that you love him.”
“Oh, for God's sake!” Sari flung her hand out. “Loving someone doesn't mean you leave him alone-loving someone means you want to make things better for him. It means you don't just leave him with a stack of Balance Bars and the TV turned on all day long because that's what's easy for you.”
“Oh, so now I’m a neglectful mother?” Sari's mother said. Her voice had gotten very high. “You come waltzing in here a couple times a year and accuse me of being some sort of ogre, but you know nothing about our lives. Just because you think Charlie's not a good enough brother for you-”
“Do you really think that's what I’m saying?”
“Let me tell you something: your brother is a kinder, gentler, far more spiritual being than you'll ever be-”
“He watches movies and game shows all day long. How is that spiritual?”
“I’m through discussing this with you,” her mother said with a little stamp of her well-shod foot. “I’ll simply say this: if you want to stay a minute longer in this house, then you'll treat its occupants with respect. If you can't do that, then-much as it pains me-I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I will not let you ruin another family holiday.” She turned to Lucy. “Lucy, you, of course, are welcome in my house, now and at any time. I hope you'll stay, no matter what.“
“Thanks,” Lucy said with a panicked look at Sari.
“It's okay,” Sari said. “I’ll behave. There's no point to any of this, anyway.”
“And we'll have a nice, civilized dinner together?” her mother said.
“You go on in and set up, Mrs. Hill,” Lucy said. “We'll be right there.”
“But no more fighting,” Sari's mother said. “It's just too hard on us all.”
“Of course not,” Lucy said. “Don't you worry.”
Eloise Hill left the room. For a minute or two, the three adults in the room silently watched planets exploding on the television screen. Then Sari looked at Lucy. “You see?” she said.
Lucy sat down and put both her arms around Sari's shoulders. “We'll just get through dinner and then go.” She glanced at Charlie. His lips were moving in sync to the movie's dialogue. She said quietly, “Poor guy.”
“Yeah,” Sari said. “I used to fantasize about grabbing him and making a run for the door. Not really doable, though.”
“Probably not, given your relative sizes,” Lucy said. “She doesn't really just let him watch TV all day, does she?”
“I don't know,” Sari said. “I honestly don't know. But every time I come to visit, this is where I find him. He used to notice me more, used to actually seem glad I was here. Now it barely registers. And the worst part-I mean it's all the worst part-but the worst part is someday she'll die and then what? It'll be too late. He won't have any skills to deal with the world, even if he wants to.” Her voice dropped to almost nothing. “She won't die soon enough for me to help him.”
There was a pause. Then, “I could kill her now, if it would help,” Lucy said.
Sari leaned against her. “That's why I love you-you always know the right thing to say.” She rested her head on Lucy's shoulder, and they sat like that until Sari's mother called them all in for dinner.
Kathleen wore the necklace Kevin had given her, and his father spotted it immediately. “Tiffany's?” he said, gesturing to her neck, after giving her a paternal kiss on the cheek.
She nodded. “From your son.”
“Tell him to get you diamonds next time,” he said with a wink. “A pretty girl like you should wear diamonds. Kevin should know that already, but he's always been a slow learner.”
Kathleen looked at Kevin, who smiled at her as if his father had just said something nice.
They sat down to eat soon after she arrived. First they had pumpkin soup, fragrant with cinnamon and cloves, then roast turkey with three different kinds of stuffing steaming in separate crystal bowls, mashed potatoes golden with butter and garlic, warm rolls and cranberry sauce and green beans, all of which was followed by the traditional desserts-pecan pie, pumpkin pie, and chocolate cake-and hot fresh coffee. The food was brought to the table by servants wearing black and white and cooked by the Porters’ aging resident chef, a French woman named Marguerite who came out at the end of the meal to receive their thanks and congratulations. Caro blew her a kiss. Jackson thumped her on the back. Marguerite staggered back to the kitchen, looking exhausted but triumphant.
Obscene amounts of food were left over, both because there had been way too much to begin with, and also because the women of the family-the sisters-in-law and Caro-had barely eaten anything. None of them had touched any of the stuffing, let alone all three kinds. Kathleen, who had eaten six eggs for breakfast, still managed to put away ten times as much food as any of the other women.
After dessert had been cleared, Jackson uttered a quiet “Ahem.” Every face immediately turned to him. “If the women will excuse us, I do have a couple of small business matters to go over with the men.” He held up his hand as if to forestall objections, even though there weren't any. “I know, I know, its a holiday. But it's not often I get a chance to sit down with all three of my boys, and I’d like to take advantage of this time together to address a few important items that have come up recently.” Kathleen wondered if anyone was going to point out that he saw all three of his sons at the office every day. But:
“Of course,” one of the sisters-in-law said immediately.
“You should!” the other said-the one who had kids, a boy and a girl, who had eaten a few bites of food at the table, then started hitting each other before one of the women in black and white had whisked them out of the room.
As they all rose to their feet and moved away from the table, Kathleen said to Kevin, “We'd better get going-I told my mom we'd be there at six.”
“I can't go right now,” Kevin said. “My dad-”
“It's already past six-thirty.”
“Can you call her and tell her we'll be late?”
She lowered her voice. “Can't you just skip your father's meeting?”
“That's not a good idea,” he said, his eyes flickering over to check where his father and brothers were. They hadn't left the room yet.
“Why not? You'll see him on Monday.”
“This stuff is important, Kathleen. I can't not be there. It wouldn't be right. Can't you just wait until we're done?”
“How long will it take?”
“Half an hour?” he said with no conviction. “Maybe less, maybe more. I honestly don't know.”
“In that case, do you mind if I head on over to the McMansion by myself?”
He looked relieved. “Not at all. You should. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done and join up with you there.”
He kissed her lightly on the lips and then scurried to catch up with his brothers and father, who were leaving the room in a tight knot. Kathleen doubted she would see him at her sisters’ later.
Oh, Lord,” Eloise Hill said, “we thank you for your bounty and for bringing us all together on this special day and for providing us with food for our table and shelter for our bodies and…”
She went on for a while longer like that.
Sari rolled her eyes at Lucy, who kicked her in the shin under the table.
“Can we eat now?” Sari asked as soon as her mother had finally said “Amen” and lifted up her head. “Or do we have to thank God for giving us the 405 freeway, too? Because, you know, we couldn't have actually gotten here without it.”
“Here, Lucy,” Sari's mother said, picking up a pretty painted bowl. “Please try the potatoes. I may not have made them myself, but I tasted them in the kitchen and I must say they're delicious. A tiny bit on the salty side…”
“Yum,” said Lucy, who hadn't touched a potato in any form in over five years. She took the bowl and made a show of putting a spoonful on her plate.
“Who's having wine?” asked Sari's father. It was the first thing he had said all afternoon, other than a brief, vague greeting.
“I’d definitely like a glass of wine,” Sari said, and Lucy pushed her own glass toward Gerald Hill and said, “Me, too, please.”
Everyone had a glass of wine, except for Charlie, who drank white milk and ate only the mashed potatoes. After he had finished his plateful of potatoes, he got up from the table without another word and clomped his way back into the family room.
“If you're not going to make him sit through dinner, you could at least teach him to excuse himself,” Sari said to her mother.
“Charlie knows he's excused. We don't stand on formalities here.” Her mother extended her empty wineglass into the air in front of her. Her husband leaned forward and refilled it. They didn't look at each other. Eloise took a sip of wine and turned to Lucy. “Did you see the expression on his face when I said grace? It was-what's the word? Gerald, what's the word?”
“The word for what?”
“You know. When someone feels God's grace on them.”
He shrugged. “I don't know. Happy?”
“No, not happy,” she said. “It begins with a b.”
“Balmy?” Sari suggested.
“Beatific!” Her mother captured the word with delight. “That's the word. Beatific. Charlie looked positively beatific.” She hitched her chair closer to Lucy. “They say people like Charlie are closer to God than the rest of us,” she said in a low, confiding voice. “And I believe it. He sees things we don't.” She paused, and Lucy made a polite little “Huh” kind of noise.
Sari's mother took that as encouragement. She took several sips of wine and then continued, gesturing with the glass. “When I see someone-a stranger-with a child who you can tell right away is special-not like the other kids-I go right on up to her, no matter where we are, even in the supermarket, and I say, ‘We're the lucky ones. We're blessed. God sends us these special children because He trusts us to take good care of them for Him.’” She put down her glass and touched Lucy's arm lightly with her damp fingertips. “I can't tell you how many women have hugged me after I’ve said that. Just burst into tears and hugged me. It's a wonderful thing to make a connection like that. I fly home after one of those encounters. I literally fly home.”
“How nice,” Lucy said. “Really. That's really nice. Do you-”
“We really are the lucky ones, you know,” Eloise said. “Those of us with special children. God chooses us because He knows we're exceptionally strong.”
“You're just all God's little teacher's pets, aren't you?” Sari said. “You get to clap erasers and raise the autistic kids. Hey, maybe if you're really good, he'll give you some boils on your ass.”
“More wine?” her father said and took the opportunity to refill his glass as well as hers. He peered at the bottle. “Better open another. This one's almost gone.” He got up and walked heavily out of the room.
“God has a plan for Charlie,” Sari's mother told Lucy, pinning her in place with that hand on her arm. “He has a plan for every child. People like that Ellen woman think that they're making a difference with their mumbo-jumbo, but the path any child takes is already determined by God. He decides what will be.”
“Que será, será,” Lucy said with a wild and desperate gaiety.
“What we do at the clinic works,” Sari said. “I could show you studies-”
Her mother finally acknowledged her, but only by making a phhhtt noise and waving her hand dismissively. “Studies. Oh, please. You can't tell from those. Take any child and look at him again a few years later. Who's to say what he would have been as opposed to what he is? Only the Supreme Being. Not us. Certainly not some scientist collecting data.” She spat out the last word as if it were repulsive to her.
“You've got it all backward,” Sari said. “Science is the one thing that does tell us anything. It shows us that when kids are worked with the right way, they improve.”
“No,” Eloise said. “You can fuss and bother and drive the children crazy with all your therapy jibber-jabber, but in the end, it's all up to Him.”
“I wish to hell he'd open up a clinic then,” Sari said. “We have a waiting list at ours. The least he could do is take up some of the slack.”
“More wine?” said her father, appearing in the doorway with a freshly opened bottle.
Kathleen's mind wandered on the drive over to her sisters’ house, and she found herself thinking not about the people and the meal she had just left, but about cooking with Sam Kaplan that morning. He had taken it all so seriously that of course she had to rebel and fool around every way possible. He wouldn't let her off the hook, not even when she dropped an egg on the floor and it broke into a huge mess-just insisted that she clean it up, and then forced her to crack the other eggs correctly, his hand guiding hers, his arm against hers, his body close behind hers.
If he had been any other guy between the age of fifteen and sixty, Kathleen would have suspected him of using the cooking as an excuse to get physically close to her. But Sam seemed genuinely determined to teach her to cook and his expression was one of grim determination rather than flirtation. And yet…
She left the thought dangling. She didn't know why.
She had arrived at her sisters’. She rolled down her window and punched in the security code for the gate. The man who installed it had suggested they program in a new number every six months. They had never changed it from his original example. It was 1111 and would, Kathleen suspected, remain 1111 until someone else lived there.
Her mother was already opening the front door by the time Kathleen had parked her car and walked up the steps. “Where have you been?” Her mother threw her arms around her. “You're late.”
“Sorry,” Kathleen said. It felt good to be hugged by her mother, even if their height differences made it a little silly. Caro hadn't hugged Kevin, had just given him and Kathleen equally distant air kisses. “Kevin's father-”
Her mother was already pulling her toward the dining room. “We started without you. We're almost done.”
“Good. I already ate. I told you we'd go to Kevin's first.”
“Where is Kevin?” Her mother looked back over Kathleen's shoulder as if he might appear.
“He got tied up at his folks’, so I came without him.”
“Well, the good news is that that leaves us with an even number.”
“Why is that good?”
“It just is,” her mother said and steered her into the dining room. “Kathleen's here, everybody!”
Eyes turned toward her, and Kathleen's heart sank as she realized that in addition to the expected and welcome faces of her sisters and their publicist, Junie Peterson, and her boyfriend, Peter Munoz (whom the twins had dubbed Munchie-Kathleen had never known why), were the unexpected and unwelcome ones of Lloyd Winters and his pal Jordan Fisher.
Close upon that realization was a worse one: even as he bestowed upon her a cold smile that suggested nothing had been forgotten or forgiven, Jordan was lazily stroking the slender bare arm of her sister Christa, and he was doing it with the flagrancy of someone who has staked a claim.
They were already finishing up their turkey and sides, so, as soon as Kathleen had greeted everyone, she proposed that she and Kelly clear the table while the others wait for dessert in the living room. “We'll take care of cleaning up,” she said to her mother. “You relax and enjoy yourself.”
Her mother seemed to like the idea. She had cooked the meal herself, and it was one of only three meals she cooked a year. There was the Thanksgiving turkey, a ham on Christmas, and leg of lamb for Easter. The rest of the time, she and the girls ordered in or just ate some yogurt. She wasn't a natural or comfortable cook, so by the time any of those holiday meals were actually eaten, she was exhausted.
She led the others from the dining room into the living room, arm in arm with Junie. Peter-a nice guy who deserved better-was being subjected to a hard sell about Lloyd's current get-rich-quick scheme (something about access to water rights and how L.A. was really a desert, you know). Behind them all strolled Jordan Fisher and Christa. He had slung his arm around her narrow shoulders and he shot the other two girls a look of triumph as they left the room.
“In the kitchen,” Kathleen said to Kelly. “Now.”
The second the door had swung shut behind them, Kathleen hissed, “What the fuck is going on? Why is Lloyd here? And why is Jordan Fisher feeling up Christa in front of everybody?”
“Oh, God, Kathleen, it's such a mess, you can't believe it,” Kelly said. She pulled a long hank of her strawberry blond hair across her throat like she was trying to choke herself with it. “Lloyd came over one day with that Jordan guy, who kept going on and on about representing us-as if we'd leave CAA for him. And I thought he was, you know, totally sleazy-”
“He's disgusting,” Kathleen said. “I met him before. I mean, that greasy hair-”
“I know!” Kelly squealed. “I can hardly even bear to look at him. And he was like trying to flirt with us and then afterward Christa said she thought he was cute and I said the truth, which was that he totally made me want to throw up, and she got really mad and wouldn't talk to me, and it's basically been like that ever since.”
“He was all over her at the table,” Kathleen said. “Are they actually going out?”
Kelly opened her wide blue eyes even wider. “Are you kidding me? For like weeks now. That's why he and Lloyd are here. Christa invited Jordan without even asking and then she said we had to invite Lloyd, too, or he'd be hurt.”
“Since when is hurting Lloyd's feelings a problem?” Kathleen said.
“Well, we do have to be careful. Junie said people would think we were really horrible if we weren't nice to him since we're rich and he isn't. And he is our father.”
“Who ran out on us when we were babies.”
“Yeah, he's a jerk,” Kelly said. “Don't you think its weird how much you look like him?” She put her hand on her hip. She was wearing a skimpy tank top and jeans that were cut so low you could see every inch of her hip bone, but she was so thin there was nothing either curvaceous or sexy about the revealed flesh. “Believe me, I wouldn't have invited him, but Christa's all like, ‘whatever Jordan thinks.’ She's even saying she's going to let him represent her. He says we'll do better with two different agents- that it'll give us twice the clout. Like he has any clout at all.“ She rolled her eyes.
“What do Junie and Mom think?”
“Junie said no way should we switch agents, and she and Christa got in a big fight about it. And then Mom and Christa had a fight because Mom told her she should listen to Junie, and then Christa and I had a fight because I was like ‘I can't believe you don't see what a sleazeball this guy is and everybody else does’ and by the way, you weren't around to back me up-”
“I know,” Kathleen said. “Sorry about that. I’ve been kind of busy, but I should have come over more.”
“It's not really your fault.” Kelly flipped the hair back over her shoulder. “If she can't see how disgusting he is, there's kind of nothing anyone can do, anyway. I mean, I’m her identical twin and I can't get her to see it, you know? And now she said they might even move in together. Can you believe it?”
“No,” Kathleen said. “I can't. But-and believe me, no one thinks the guy's more repulsive than I do-but I guess she does have a right to her own life. Everyone does.”
“Not us,” Kelly said. “Not Christa and me. We can't live our own lives. Not like other people.” She sighed so deeply you could see the exposed part of her stomach rise up and then relax back down. “People only want to see us together. If we separate-” She didn't bother to finish the sentence, just shrugged and waved her hand. Her fingernails were painted dark orange. “You know,” she said, “you're the lucky one. You only have to deal with, you, know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Kathleen said. “There's only ever been me.”
Eloise wouldn't let Sari have any more time alone with Charlie for the rest of the evening. Sari went back into the family room after dinner, but her mother followed her in there and started a conversation about some distant cousins. At one point, during a commercial, Sari said, “Hey, Charlie, lets play a game or go for a walk or something,” and her mother immediately said, “If you're not really watching TV, then you can help me with the dishes,” and led Sari into the kitchen. Lucy followed close behind.
The phone rang while they were still washing up, and Sari's father called to them from the bedroom to say it was Cassie. Sari's mother lit up. “I knew she'd call! She wouldn't let Thanksgiving come and go without calling. Not Thanksgiving.”
She pounced on the phone and said, “Cassie darling!” And then, “We're just fine! Wonderful! Sari came with her old chum Lucy and it's been just the loveliest time.”
“Just the loveliest,” Sari said to Lucy, who smothered a laugh.
Eloise held the phone out to Sari. “She wants to say hi to you.
Sari put it to her ear. “Hi,” she said warily.
“I can't believe you're there,” Cassie said. “You're even crazier than they are. Which I wouldn't have thought was possible.”
Sari couldn't really argue with any of that. “How's your Thanksgiving going?”
“Fine. Cold.”
“Where are you?”
“Vermont,” Cassie said. “Bet you're losing your mind there, huh?”
“You're not wrong,” Sari said.
“Still desperate to have children of your own?”
“I never said I was. I just said I couldn't promise not to.”
“Yeah, whatever. Tell Mom I had to go. I can't talk to her again. I don't even know why I called in the first place. There was some ad on TV that got to me and I felt guilty for a second. I’m already regretting it. Don't have kids, Sari. Just don't.”
“I’m not planning to at this moment.”
“You're such a fucking coward. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You, too,” Sari said, but Cassie had already hung up. Eloise held out her hand expectantly.
“She's gone,” Sari said, turning the phone off. Her mother pouted. “I hardly got to talk to her. Why did you hang up so fast?”
“I didn't,” Sari said. “She did.”
“Oh.” Eloise took the phone from her hand and popped it back into its base. “Well, she's probably busy. You know Cassie.”
“Not really,” Sari said. “Do you?”
“Don't be silly.” Her mother left the room to get a few more things off the dining room table.
Lucy and Sari looked at each other. “Car?” Lucy said. “Now? Please?”
“Yeah, all right,” Sari said. “I don't know what I’m waiting for, anyway. Let's just go.”
“Sweetest words I’ve ever heard.” They dried their hands on a dish towel and went to say goodbye.
In the family room, Sari knelt in front of Charlie, getting between him and the TV, so he had to look at her. He smiled and leaned sideways so he could see around her. “Goodbye, Sari,” he said.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you,” he repeated.
“You see?” Sari's mother said. She had followed Sari in there. “You see? He loves like a child, pure and simple and with his whole heart. If everyone were like Charlie, there would be no wars, no cruelty, no fighting.”
“Just a whole lot of TV watching,” Sari said, rising back to her feet.
In the car, Lucy said, “When did she get so religious? I don't remember her going on and on about God when we were in high school.”
“It's been building up over the years,” Sari said. “It's not like she ever went to church when we were kids. Actually, I don't even think she goes to church now. She worships at the House of Denial.”
“She lives in the House of Denial,” Lucy said. “What's up with all that ‘God made him the way he is so we can't even try to help him’ shit?”
“I’ve been trying to figure that one out for years,” Sari said. “All I can guess is that if she let herself think for a second that Charlie could have been different, could have been better-maybe even have had a decent life-if she'd just done things differently, then she'd have to think that she messed up somehow.”
“But it was different back then, right?” Lucy said. “No one would blame her for not having known what to do when he was little. No one knew. But now I don't get why she doesn't let you-you, of all people, her own daughter who's an expert in the field-why she doesn't just let you help him.”
Sari stared out the windshield. “Believe me, I’ve asked myself the same question at least fourteen billion times. I’ve even asked her. All she ever says is that same shit about Charlie being what God made him. It's like she got her mind set into this place and she can't change it, because it's protected her too long from… I don't know. Guilt, I guess. Or maybe just reality.”
“Can't you make her do something? For Charlie's sake? I mean there's got to be some way to protect a kid from a mother like that.”
“She's not abusing him,” Sari said. “She's just not expanding his world. I asked Ellen once if there were any legal steps I could take as his sister, and she said that if my mother's healthy and Charlie isn't asking for help, then I was stuck. My mom's his legal guardian, not me.”
“What about your dad? Have you asked him about it?”
“All he does is shrug and say, ‘That's your mother's arena.’” She let her head fall back onto the headrest.
“There's got to be something we can do.”
“I wish.” Sari rolled her head to look at Lucy, whose brow was wrinkled in concentration. It made Sari love her friend- that she wanted to find a solution.
After a moment, Lucy said, “What if you offered to take Charlie out-just for a little while-like once a week? And we quickly did some work with him? Help him learn enough to know he wants to learn more?”
“She won't let us,” Sari said. “You don't understand.”
“She might.”
“She won't. She won't even let me be in the room alone with him for more than a minute.”
“We could say we're just taking him out for dinner or-”
“Lucy,” Sari said and sat up straight in her seat. “Believe me when I say I’ve tried and believe me when I say that she won't let me help him. I’ve spent my entire life wanting to make things better for Charlie, and she won't let me.”
“That,” Lucy said, “sucks.”
“Beyond belief,” Sari said and slumped back down again.
Kevin ended up staying so late at his parents’ that he went straight home to sleep, but he called Kathleen before she went to bed, and they agreed to meet at ten the next morning at a diner they both liked on Pico.
Kathleen got there first and nabbed a table, and when Kevin walked in the door, her first thought was, “Oh, good, I can order now, I’m starved.” Kevin spotted her, came over, kissed her briefly on the lips, and, as she flashed a smile at him, she wondered if this was what marriage felt like-nothing hot or exciting, just a mild relief that the waiting was over.
Kevin thumped heavily into the seat opposite her. “Hi.” He pulled a menu toward him. “I can't believe it's time to eat again- I’m still full from last night. We ate a huge meal of leftovers before bed. It was good, but I’m feeling it this morning.” He threw the menu down. “I think I’ll just have coffee and a cinnamon roll. You?”
“Pancakes.”
“Ah.” He nodded, like she had said something interesting. Kathleen yawned.
“How was your family's Thanksgiving?” Kevin asked.
“Fine.” She didn't have the energy to describe the Jordan situation. She figured she'd save it to make into a funny story when she felt the need to be entertaining. “What did your dad want?”
“He actually had some really exciting news.” Kevin looked around and lowered his voice. “He's got a bid in on a huge parcel of land in Bel Air. It's up in the hills, very private, with amazing views all the way to the ocean. He's thinking we could build a family complex up there-you know, a main house for him and Mom, and then a separate smaller one for each of the kids. So we could all live near each other, but we'd have our own private homes. Isn't that a great idea?”
Kathleen stared at him. “You're kidding, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“It sounds like a nightmare. All of you on top of each other, no privacy, no freedom-”
“I told you, it's very private.”
“Not if your whole family's there.”
Kevin laughed. “Kathleen, I like my family. And my parents aren't getting any younger. I like the idea of being able to keep an eye on them.” The waitress approached their table, and they ordered.
Once she was gone, Kathleen leaned forward. “Kevin, seriously. Think about this. You already work for the family business. You spend all of your holidays and most of your vacations with your family. Do you really want to live with them, too?”
“Honestly? I think it sounds fantastic.” The waitress brought their coffees over and he shook a sugar bag before ripping it open and pouring it in. “I mean, I could see my parents and brothers whenever I felt like seeing them, but still escape to my own house whenever I wanted to be alone. Or, you know… with my wife.” There was a slight pause. “Whoever she might be.”
Kathleen shifted back in her chair, poured some cream in her coffee, took a sip and said, “She'd have to really like spending time with your family.”
“I guess so,” he said. “Or at least be willing to learn to.” There was another pause. Then: “Did I tell you Dad wants to build an enormous pond? It's the coolest part of this whole plan-it would touch on everyone's separate property, so you could actually swim from one yard to the other. Or kayak. How much would kids love that? Tons of cousins all growing up together, kayaking around, visiting each other, like a family of otters or something. Doesn't that sound great?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“And you're such a good swimmer…”
She didn't say anything.
“Kathleen,” Kevin said, and she raised her head to look at him. His temples were shiny with sweat. “Kathleen, all this talk last night about building homes and families and all that-it made me realize how much I want to start building my own family.”
“Building?”
“You know what I mean. I’m thirty-four years old. I’m ready to be a dad. It's all I’ve been thinking about lately. How much I want kids and a family.”
“You'd be a nice dad,” she said.
“I’m glad you think so. Because I don't think I’d be feeling that way if I hadn't found someone who I want to have those kids with.”
She took a deep breath. “Me.”
“You.” He reached over and took her hand in his. “I should have a ring to give you,” he said. “I wish I did. But we could go right now and buy one together. Have our breakfast and then go straight to Tiffany's. What do you say?”
She stared at him, wondering if she had heard him right, knowing she had. Kevin Porter-man of millions-was asking her to marry him. This was what she had wanted all along. Wasn't it? Shouldn't she be feeling excited and triumphant? All she really felt was suddenly and overwhelmingly exhausted-too tired to know how to react. “Wow,” she said.
“Will you marry me, Kathleen?”
She opened her mouth to answer but realized she didn't have an answer. So she closed it again. Then she realized she had to say something, so she said, “I think I need a minute. I’m sorry. I just… It's a big surprise.”
“I know,” he said. “I know it's sudden.”
“It's amazing,” she said. “And sweet. But-” She stopped.
“Sudden.”
“Yeah.” She detached her hand from his. “I just need to think. Give me a second, will you? I’ll be right back.” She took her purse off the back of her chair and crossed through the restaurant to the ladies’ room. She glanced back as she closed the door. Kevin was staring at his coffee mug. She locked the door behind her and fished her cell phone out of her purse. She paced around the small, cold room as she dialed.
“Hello?”
“Oh, good, there you are,” Kathleen said. “Kevin proposed to me. Just now, over breakfast. One second we were talking about real estate and the next he was asking me to marry him.”
“Whoa!” Sari said. “You're kidding!”
“I’m really not.”
“So did you say yes?”
“Why?” Kathleen said. “Do you think I should?”
“Don't ask me Haven't you answered him yet?”
“I said I needed a minute to think about it.” Kathleen leaned against the locked door. “You have to tell me what to do, Sari. Should I say yes or no? Or maybe? I think I could put him off for a while without completely discouraging him-”
“God, Kathleen, I don't know! I can't decide for you. Do you love him? Do you want to marry him?”
“I don't know. How do people know something like that for surer?”
“Why are you asking me?” Sari said. “Me, of all people? I’ve never been proposed to. I don't even have a boyfriend. Ask someone who's married.”
“You're the only person I trust. Come on, Sari, help me out.”
“If you really want my advice, I think you should ask him to wait. Tell him you love him but you're not sure yet whether you're ready to settle down. Buy yourself some time.”
“Okay,” Kathleen said. “That's a good idea. Thanks. How was dinner at your parents’?”
“It was horrible.”
“What happened?”
Sari laughed. “Kathleen, somewhere not far from you there's a man waiting to hear whether the girl of his dreams is going to marry him or not. Do you really want to hear about my miserable Thanksgiving?”
“Yes. I really do.”
“Then call me later. I feel for Kevin, even if you don't.”
When she came back to the table, Kevin was half turned in his chair, watching for her. The waitress had brought their food, but he hadn't taken a bite.
“So?” he said, trying to keep his voice casual. “Any decisions?”
“Not yet.” She slid into her chair and took a deep breath. “Here's the thing… I think I probably do want to marry you. But I’m not ready to say it for sure. Not yet.”
He reached around the plates for her hand and squeezed it. “I know. I sprang this on you pretty suddenly. I mean, I was up all night thinking about it, but for you, it's been all of five minutes.”
“I probably just have to get used to the idea. I’ve been single all my life, you know.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said. There was a pause. Then, “Want to go to Hawaii with me?”
She laughed. “You're full of offers today. When were you thinking?”
“Now. This afternoon. My parents’ house is right on the beach and the walls on the ocean side are all glass so it's just you and the ocean and the waves. We'd be all alone there-no families, no work, nothing but each other and the most beautiful beach in the world. It's a good place to think about things. And make decisions.” He pressed the back of her hand to his lips. “What do you say, Kath? Will you come with me?”
“How could I say no to that?”
“You can't.” He kissed her hand one more time before releasing it. “And do you know what the waiting period is for a marriage license in Hawaii?”
“No. What?”
He grinned. “There isn't one.”
Lucy and Sari met at Sari's apartment on Sunday, because ‘Sari refused to go to Lucy's now that she had a cat.
“I can't believe it,” Lucy said, once they were settled with their coffee and knitting. “I just can't believe it. That she's in Hawaii right now with one of the richest bachelors in the country, trying to decide whether or not to marry him.”
“I know,” Sari said. “Only Kathleen.”
“And meanwhile I’m stuck here, trying to figure out what to do with my remaining six skeins of green yarn.”
“That's not enough to make much of anything other than a scarf,” Sari said. “Couldn't you salvage any of the yarn you ripped out?”
“It got all curly and stretched out,” Lucy said.
“I think there's a way to fix that.”
“Plus I threw it down the trash chute.”
“That's a bigger problem.” Sari knit another row while Lucy leafed through a knitting book she had brought with her.
“It's hard to start something else,” Lucy said after looking at a bunch of patterns. “I was so excited about knitting a sweater for James and now look what happened. It was all a big fat waste of time. It's ruined knitting for me forever- Ooo, that's cute!” She showed Sari a knit hat that had bands of different colors and a narrow brim, and they both exclaimed over it.
“Why don't you make that?” Sari said. “It wouldn't take long. You could do it just in that green-no stripes.”
“But I don't wear hats,” Lucy said.
“Maybe you should start. It seems like a good time to try something new.”
“The way things are going, if I try to knit a hat, my head will get cut off.”
“You're fun to be with today,” Sari said.
“I can't help it.” Lucy flung the book aside. “We're stuck here and meanwhile Kathleen's lying on a beach somewhere in Hawaii, drinking pina coladas and probably having her butt massaged or something decadent like that. Why does she always get to be the lucky one?”
“Bet she's engaged by now,” Sari said.
“No way. She would have called us.”
“No, because it's three hours earlier there, right? They probably went out for a late dinner last night, and then Kevin asked her to go for a walk on the beach and then he told her she owed him an answer and maybe even got down on his knees and pulled out a ring and-”
“I still think she'd call.”
“But it would have been like one in the morning there when it all happened,” Sari said. “Four a.m. here. And besides, once she said yes, they had to go back and immediately have sex, right? You've got to figure engagement sex is amazing.”
“You seem sure she said yes.”
“Of course she said yes. You don't say no when someone proposes to you on a moonlit beach in Hawaii, Lucy. Anyway, the point is they probably had sex and fell asleep.” She gestured at the wall clock. “It's still only eight in the morning there. She wouldn't even be waking up until around now. But as soon as she wakes up-”
The phone rang. The girls looked at each other and cracked up. “You can't be that right,” Lucy said. “No one is that right.”
“We'll see,” Sari said. She dropped her knitting and ran for the phone. “Hello?” Then: “Oh, wow. I didn't expect it to be you. Hi. What's going on there?”
“Who?” Lucy said. She had crept up to Sari's side and was desperately trying to hear what was being said. “Who is it? Who? Is it Kathleen?”
Sari held her off with the palm of her hand. “Wow, that's great!” she said. “I’m so excited for you! Congratulations!”
“What? What's great? What's exciting?” Lucy said.
“When? You're kidding. But-” A long period of time while the other person talked and then Sari said, “Yeah, it would be amazing. I totally want to. It's just… Well, hold on-let me ask Lucy.” She punched the hold button and looked at Lucy. “You won't believe this.”
Lucy groaned. “Will you just tell me?”
“It's Kevin. He proposed and Kathleen accepted, just like we thought. But she doesn't know he's calling us-he snuck off to call because he wants to fly us to Hawaii first thing tomorrow as a surprise for her. Because they're going to get married there in two days! Can you believe it?”
Lucy sank into a chair. “Holy shit.”
“He said if he flew her family out, his family might feel hurt, and he doesn't want to get into any of that, but he knows she'd want us to be there with her. There's a nine a.m. flight tomorrow, gets us in at noon, and the wedding would be the next day. We could take the red-eye back that night and only miss two days of work.”
“This is unreal,” Lucy said.
“I know! So what do you say, Luce? Should we do it?” She shook the phone at her. “I have to give him an answer. He's waiting.”
“What are you talking about?” Lucy said. “Of course we're going. We have to go.”
“What about work?”
“Fuck work,” Lucy said.
“Yeah,” Sari said. “Fuck work.” She punched the hold button again. “Kevin?” she said. “We're in.”
After she'd hung up, she looked at Lucy. “Fuck knitting, too,” she said. “Don't we need new clothes for Hawaii?”
“We do,” Lucy said. “We do we do we do.”
When Lucy walked into her apartment several hours later, something felt wrong. It took her a moment to figure out what it was: David hadn't come warily prowling in to greet her, like he always did when she came home these days. She called for him and he still didn't come. She dropped everything she was carrying and went from room to room, calling him.
No David.
Lucy searched through the apartment again. This time, she got down on her hands and knees to look under sofas and tables. She even threw in a few high-pitched “Here kitty-kitty-kitties” just for the hell of it. No David.
She felt suddenly really worried. The kitten had recently become curious about the bigger world outside and, several times over the past few days, he had gone darting out the door when she opened it, scooting between her legs and around her feet. She always chased him down and brought him back, but it was possible he'd snuck out that morning when she'd left, without her even noticing. Which would mean he'd been out of the apartment-maybe even out of the building-wandering alone for over three hours.
“Shit,” she said out loud and ran into the apartment corridor and then down the stairs and out into the street, calling and running, searching desperately for a tiny kitten who had gone missing in a very big, very dangerous world.
“I can't find David,” she said into the phone half an hour later.
“The cat or the lab partner?” Sari asked.
“This isn't funny. I got back from knitting and he was gone. Sari, I’m worried he got out of the building and is lost somewhere.”
“Did you look outside?”
“I went around the whole block. I can't find him anywhere.”
“I’m sorry, honey,” Sari said. “But cats usually find their way home, don't they?”
“Big cats do,” Lucy said. “Big grown-up cats who've lived for a long time in one place and who have sharp claws and can defend themselves against any danger-they find their way home. But little tiny kittens who haven't even been in the world very long-”
“Don't start imagining the worst.”
“Too late.”
“Well, then, stop imagining the worst. I’m sure he'll come back.”
“Are you really sure or are you just trying to get me off the phone?”
“A little of both, actually,” Sari said. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but I’m overwhelmed with everything I have to do if I want to be able to leave tomorrow. I can't just disappear-I need to find replacements for all the kids I see. So I’m sort of losing my mind right now. But I honestly think David the kitten-being the most amazingly wonderful and brilliant kitten in the world-will find his way back to your side safe and sound before the end of the day.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Lucy said. “Go do your stuff. I’ll see you in the morning.” She hung up the phone and stared at it miserably for a minute. Then she got up off the bed and went through the apartment and opened the front door and called for David again. Then she went back into the apartment and called for him some more. Then she went out of the apartment and down the stairs to the street and called for him some more. Then she went back into the apartment and checked inside the stove and all the cabinets in the kitchen. Then she got out a suitcase and opened her underwear drawer and stared at its contents without seeing them for a minute or two. Then she got up and opened the front door and called for David.
“This is insane,” she said out loud. She picked up the phone again.
There was no answer at David's apartment, but she waited, knowing it would ring through to his cell. “Hey,” he said once it had, “what's up?”
“The kittens missing,” she said. “I can't find him anywhere. I think maybe he got out this morning, which means he's been gone for hours.”
“Oh, shit,” he said. Then, “Well, at least it's not dark. The coyotes shouldn't be out yet.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Thanks for bringing up coyotes. Where are you?”
“Having coffee.”
“With someone?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh,” she said. “I was hoping-I mean, I was thinking-that maybe you could come help me look-but you're busy, so-”
“I’ll be there in ten,” he said and hung up.
It was closer to twenty, but Lucy didn't complain.
“I looked around the block,” David said as she let him in. “No surprise reappearance here, I assume?”
Lucy shook her head. She suddenly didn't trust herself to speak. At the sight of David's familiar, slightly homely face, she was overwhelmed with the desire to burst into tears. She fought it desperately. But it must have shown, because he said, “Don't worry, Lucy. He'll turn up. Cats have a way of being okay. This is where that whole nine lives thing really comes into play.”
Lucy nodded but couldn't manage a smile. “He's so little,” she said. “He's so little and I was responsible for him.”
“Come on.” He put his arms around her and she rested her head against his shoulder. “You're being silly. He's a cat. Cats always escape. And they always come back.”
“Unless a coyote gets them. Or a car hits them. Or-”
“Someone sells them to evil scientists to experiment on?”
She pushed him away. “That's not funny.”
“It's a little bit funny.”
“I’m not in the mood for jokes.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “No more jokes. Let's focus. Is your phone number on his ID tag?”
“He doesn't have one. I kept forgetting. I was at Petco a million times, but I just kept forgetting, but if I’d only just gotten him one… I’m such a fucking idiot!” And with that, she finally burst into the tears that had been threatening to break through for the last half hour.
“Come here.” David steered her to the sofa and pushed her down on it. Then he sat next to her and took her hand. “Take a deep breath, Lucy, and calm down. The guy's only been missing a few hours. Cats often vanish for days and then reappear. He's going to come back. But we might as well do what we can to help. Do you have any photos of him? We could put them up somewhere.”
“I didn't have any batteries in my camera,” Lucy said, extricating her hand so she could use her knuckle to wipe away the tears under her eyes. “I tried to take his picture-I wanted to-but I didn't have any batteries and I kept forgetting to get new ones.”
“You need some help running your life,” David said.
“I know,” she said with a sob.
“Whoa there,” David said. “I was joking. And this isn't even close to calming down.”
“I can't help it.”
“Come here,” he said, and pulled her so her face was against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she shoved her forehead hard into his shoulder and let herself go.
Interestingly, once she gave in to her tears, they didn't last all that long. She trembled and hiccupped and sniffed for a few minutes, while David rubbed her back and made soothing sounds. Even when the tears had stopped, she didn't move for a while, just stayed where she was, her cheek pressed against his shirt.
After a little while like that, she said, “I can hear your heart beat.”
“Interesting,” he said. “Would you say it's got a hip reggae kind of a beat?”
“It just sounds normal to me. Tha-boomp, tha-boomp.” A pause. Then: “I need a tissue.”
“You've been doing pretty well with my shirt up till now.”
“Sorry.” She righted herself, embarrassed. “Hold on. Let me go wash my face.”
In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face and toweled off. There was a bottle of suntan lotion on the vanity, and it occurred to her she shouldn't even go to Hawaii if David stayed missing-she'd need to stay and keep looking for him. And even if she did find him, she'd have to get someone to take care of him while she was gone. She hadn't even thought about that before. She was a bad, bad pet owner.
When she came back out, David was sitting at her computer. “I found a Web site about missing pets. They say the first thing you should do is check with all your neighbors.”
“I don't know my neighbors,” Lucy said. “I’ve never even met them. Oh, except for the time I yelled at the people downstairs for making too much noise.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Four years.”
David shook his head with a laugh. “You might want to work on your people skills, Lucy.”
“Do you think we should go talk to them?”
“It can't hurt.”
She liked that he didn't question her use of “we,” just stood up and joined her at the door.
“I know this may sound selfish at a time like this, but I’m really hungry,” David said when they returned to the apartment a while later, having checked in with all the neighbors who were home-no one had seen the cat-and searched around the block one more time. “How about we order in a pizza while we make some flyers? I can post them when I leave.”
“Yeah, okay,” Lucy said. She felt disoriented and dazed. The sun was setting and she still hadn't found the cat and the thought of eventually trying to go to sleep for the night knowing he was out there alone somewhere-or dead somewhere-was so awful she couldn't even think about it.
“What kind do you like?” David asked.
“Kind?”
“Of pizza.”
“Oh. I don't care.”
“Is there something else you'd rather eat?”
She shook her head. “I’m not really hungry. I kind of feel like I’m going to throw up.” She did, too. She felt shaky and queasy, even though she hadn't eaten since she'd left Sari's apartment hours and hours ago.
“Maybe you'll change your mind once it's here,” David said and picked up the phone to place the order.
They designed the flyer while they waited for the pizza to be delivered. Since they didn't have a photo of the cat, Lucy wrote a brief description, biting her lip to keep the tears back as she typed “very small, with two black dots on his nose.”
“I think you should offer a reward,” David said from behind her.
She paused, her fingers poised on the keyboard. “How much?”
“Enough so that people will bother to return him, but not enough to attract a con artist.”
“And in dollars, that would be-?”
“A hundred maybe?”
“Ouch,” she said, typing it in. “But okay. Anything for David.”
“I’ll split it with you,” he said. “Fifty-fifty. Which would be fifty-fifty.”
“No,” Lucy said. “You paid for David in the first place and it's my fault he got lost, so I should pay the whole amount.”
“We're in this together,” David said. “And he's my cat, too- remember the visiting rights?”
“You can't visit what isn't here,” Lucy said. Her voice broke on the last word.
He put his hand on her shoulder. “He'll be back.”
Lucy did think the pizza smelled kind of good when it arrived, but as soon as she looked at it, her stomach tightened and she felt sick again, all shivery with a sudden chill, so she put it back down and excused herself for a moment. She went into the bedroom. She had left her window open and it was freezing in there. She closed the window, then went to her closet to get a sweater. When she opened the closet door, she let out a scream.
David came running. “What's wrong?”
She was squatting down, her back to him, but now she stood up and turned to him, gray fur clutched to her chest. “Nothing. Nothing. Everything's right.”
“The litde guy!” He stroked the cat's head. “How the fuck-? Is he okay?”
“I opened the closet and he was just there.”
David wrinkled his nose and peered into the closet. “Smells like he left you a present in there.”
“It's not his fault-he must have been in there for hours.” Lucy cuddled the kitten tightly against her chest. “Oh, David, you scared the shit out of me. Don't ever go missing like that again.”
“He didn't go missing,” David said. “You must have shut him in there.”
“I have no idea when or how I did that. And I swear I checked in there when I was looking all over for him. I know I did.”
“Maybe he was sleeping then.”
“We should feed him,” Lucy said. “And give him some water.”
“And take him to the litter box,” David said. “There may still be something left in him, although, to judge by the bottom of your closet, I doubt it.”
He took care of the kitten while Lucy cleaned up the mess then David the human went back to eating his pizza while David the kitten crouched on the floor and lapped eagerly at some water. Lucy sank into a chair and took a deep breath. Everything was okay. She had her kitten back.
“Sure you don't want any?” David said, as he took another piece of pizza from the box.
She realized with a sudden ache in her stomach that she was starving. Relief had brought back her appetite with a vengeance. “Yeah, actually, I do,” she said. She reached over and snagged the biggest slice that was left and devoured it.
She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten a slice of pizza like that-the whole thing from the top of the triangle to the bottom, without bothering to blot the grease with a napkin or pick the cheese off or leave the crust or play any of her usual calorie-cutting games.
“I can't decide who looks more blissed out, you or the cat,” David said as she swallowed the last bite. “Of course, the cat has a slight advantage in being able to lick himself clean.”
“Does that mean I have pizza sauce on my face?” Lucy said. She didn't even care. Nothing bothered her. David was back, safe and sound.
“Just a little. On your chin.”
She swiped at it with a napkin. “Did I get it?”
“Not yet.” He leaned forward. “Right there.” He touched his fingertip lightly to the right side of her chin.
She wiped at the spot. “That better?”
“Yeah.” He was still leaning forward.
“Thanks,” she said.
He let his arm fall. “Want another slice?”
“God, no. It was good, though.”
He closed the pizza box and stood up. “I should probably head off.”
“Oh, right.” Her contentment suddenly dropped away. “You left someone waiting. I’m sorry I wasted your whole day. And for nothing.”
“It's okay,” he said. “I’m glad it turned out to be for nothing. Here he is, safe as can be. No one's going to be experimenting on this little kitten tonight.”
“Or ever.” She stood up as he moved toward the door. “Hold on,” she said.
He turned back, questioningly.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was a total idiot about everything. Panicking about the cat when he was fine the whole time.”
“You're not an idiot,” he said.
“I totally overreacted. I was a hysterical girl.”
“It's okay to react to things,” he said. “Not everything has to be a thought-out position in life with a defensible argument, Lucy. Sometimes it's okay to just react.”
“Even if it makes you look like an idiot?”
“Especially.”
They were both quiet for a moment. Then, “Thank you,” Lucy said, moving forward. “For coming today and caring about David.”
“You don't have to thank me for either.”
“Thank you, anyway,” she said, and hugged him. He hugged her back. They stood like that a moment, their bodies pressed together in friendship.
And then Lucy felt something move against her leg. For one ridiculous moment, she thought of the cat. And then she realized it wasn't an animal.
David had a hard-on.
So maybe it wasn't just friendship.
The polite thing to do was to ignore it, she thought.
And then she deliberately pressed her hip against him.
“Excuse me?” he said startled and taking a step back.
“I didn't say anything.” She moved up against him again and pushed her thigh right where his dick was jutting up inside the light fabric of the scrub pants he was wearing.
There was a pause. Then: “Yeah, about that,” he said, twisting away from her. His face had turned red, and he wouldn't look at her. “I’m sorry. I can't always-you know-control it-and we were kind of… shoved up together there. And all men are pigs. Did I mention that before? That all men are pigs? Because that pretty much sums it up. And these scrubs don't hold you back at all. Or the boxers, either. Anyway… I should probably go. I already stayed too long.”
“No,” Lucy said. “Don't go.” And, pressing the length of her body against his-making sure her hip was right up against his erection-she lifted up her face and offered him her mouth. Which he accepted, at first uncertainly and then with growing enthusiasm.
The kiss didn't do anything to subdue or calm the hot dick against her leg. It bobbed about even more enthusiastically than before.
When they finally came up for air, Lucy hid her head in his shoulder and said, “I can't believe we're doing this.”
“We can stop now,” David said. He cleared his throat. “I could still go.”
“You sure you can walk?”
“I could probably limp out of here.” He took a deep breath. “Seriously, Lucy, if you want me to go, I’m gone. We still have to work together. I’m not saying I haven't dreamed about this- okay, fantasized about this-from day one, because I have. But you made it clear a long time ago that it was never going to happen and I’ve accepted that.”
“Have you?” Lucy said, looking down at the tent in his pants.
“Yeah,” he said. “Intellectually I have. Maybe not so much physically. But I can still walk out of here and never say another word about any of it.”
“Really?” she said, gently bouncing her leg right where his dick was straining hard against the thin fabric. “Just walk right out of here?”
He closed his eyes with a little moan and said, “I think I can.”
“You sound like the little engine.”
“Are you just torturing me or is there a point to what you're doing?”
She answered his question by taking him by the hand and leading him into her bedroom.
There was a pause after she rolled off of him. They lay side by side on their backs, eyes closed, breathing hard. And then he said, “I thought I could, I thought I could,” and they both cracked up. “Uh-oh,” David said suddenly. “We're not alone.”
Lucy opened her eyes. David the kitten was crouched on the end of the bed watching them. “Here, David,” Lucy cooed. “Here, kitty. Don't be afraid.” He came walking toward her, picking his way carefully among the folds and lumps of the quilt. Lucy held her hand out to him and he came closer and cautiously sniffed at her fingers. “Now that he's seen some very grown-up things, I think we'd better explain the facts of life to him, don't you?”
“Definitely. Let me.” He scritched behind the kitten's ear and said, “Kid, stay away from girls. They'll only break your heart.”
“Hey!” Lucy propped herself up on her elbow. “That's so not true.”
“Been true in my experience.”
“I’d say you were the one with some explaining to do. Didn't you leave some cute little undergrad back at Starbucks, sobbing into her extra-foamy decaf latte?”
“I have to assume she's gone home by now.”
“Seriously,” Lucy said.
“I can't help it if I like you better. And I didn't actually leave her there, you know. I dropped her off at her place.”
“You like me better?” she said.
“Always have,” he said. “But you were never available or interested.”
“I’m both now,” she said.
“I can't believe it,” he said. “I should have given you a cat a long time ago.”
She reached down for the quilt and pulled it up over both of them. “You want to stay the night?”
“You really want me to?”
“Yeah. That way, in the morning- Oh, my God! The morning!” She sat up. “I’m going to Hawaii in the morning!”
“You're kidding.”
She shook her head.
“Jesus, Luce, when were you going to tell me? You can't just take off on a vacation-we have a ton of work this week.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I swear I was going to call you as soon as I got home, and then the whole thing with David happened and I totally forgot.” She told him about Kevin's call.
“All right,” he said. “I guess you kind of have to go if your friend's getting married. But you can't stay any longer than that, no matter how beautiful it is there.”
“I won't. I promise.”
“Wish I could go with you.”
“Well, you can't,” she said. “Which is a good thing.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“No, I mean, it would be nice to have you there-but if you're here, you can take care of David for me.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said. He scooped David up in his hand. “Looks like it's going to be just me and you for the next few days, buddy. Let's have some fun. Let's go find us some pussy.”
“I knew that sooner or later you were going to make that joke,” Lucy said. “You are so predictable.”
“He thinks I’m funny.” He held up the kitten. “I mean, he's trying to keep a straight face, but you can tell that on the inside he is totally losing his shit.”
“You're a nut,” Lucy said. She flung back the quilt and swung her legs off of the bed. “I’m going to pack as quickly as I can, and then I’m coming back to bed, and you both better still be here. Understand?”
“Understood,” David said. “Do we have to be awake?”
“Nah,” she said with a grin. “I think I can figure out a way to wake you up.”
He wasn't asleep when she came back, but he pretended he was.