“You’ve done what you promised your sister. Now give yourself a break. Come to New Year’s Eve.”
“I’ll let you know,” Annie said vaguely. She had the unpleasant feeling that Whitney was going to insist. She usually did. “So who’s coming to Thanksgiving?” she said, trying to change the subject and distract Whitney from her own nonexistent personal life.
“The usual suspects. Fred’s sister and her husband and kids, and his parents. Her twins destroy my house. You’re lucky yours are civilized and grown up.”
“Believe me, I miss the stage you’re at with yours,” Annie said nostalgically, with a wistful tone in her voice.
“You just don’t remember what it was like. God save me from teenage boys.” Whitney sounded rueful, and they laughed. “I’ll come in for lunch next week. And I want you to think about New Year’s Eve. He’s a great guy.”
“I’m sure he is. I just don’t have time.” Or the desire to meet another one of Fred’s dreary friends. They just weren’t fun, and there was no reason to think that this one would be any different. They never were. If she was going to fall for a man, Annie wanted it to be someone great. Otherwise, why bother? She had decided years before that she’d rather sit home alone than go out with a dud, just for the sake of going out. And everyone tried too hard on New Year’s Eve and drank too much, including Fred. Whitney thought he walked on water, which was nice. Annie’s role models for relationships were her late sister and brother-in-law, who had been madly in love until the end. She didn’t want less than that for herself or even for their kids. She had talked about them a lot to their children over the years, and there were photos of Jane and Bill everywhere. She had kept their memory alive for all of them.
Annie got up to go check on the turkey, and Ted wandered in a few minutes later in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, looking like an overgrown boy. At twenty-four, he was a handsome man, like his father. And when she checked, the turkey was looking good and turning brown.
“Do you need help?” Ted offered, as he poured himself a glass of orange juice and handed one to his aunt.
“I think I’m fine. You can help me carve.”
“That’s good. It’s great being here. I get tired of living with three guys at my apartment. They’re all such slobs.”
“Like your sister,” Annie said with a rueful smile as they sat down at the kitchen table.
“Actually they’re worse than Kate.” Ted grinned.
“That’s scary,” Annie said, as her younger niece walked into the room. Her spiky hair was standing up straight, and she was wearing a flannel nightgown with skulls all over it.
Annie made them both scrambled eggs and then basted the turkey, as the two young people thanked her for the breakfast and devoured it.
“It’s nice to be home,” Kate said happily, as Annie smiled at her and leaned over and kissed her.
“It’s nice for me too,” Annie said softly. “This place is a tomb without you.”
“You need to meet a guy,” Kate said firmly, and Annie rolled her eyes.
“You sound like Whitney. She says hi by the way.”
“Hi to her,” Kate said easily, and then Annie saw that she had Tinkerbell on the other forearm.
“What is that?” Ted commented with a look of disapproval that his sister was familiar with. “A tribute to Disney?”
“You’re just jealous,” Katie said, and then put her plate in the dishwasher. “I think Annie should get a tattoo. It would give her a whole new look.”
“What’s wrong with my old look? Besides, it would scare my clients.”
“I’m sure they’d love it,” Katie insisted. “Don’t listen to Mr. Clean here. He wouldn’t know style if it bit him on the ass. He’s stuck in 1950. Leave it to Beaver.”
“That’s better than the cartoon fest on your arms. What’s next? Cinderella or Snow White?”
“I think I should get an eagle on my chest,” Annie said pensively, as Katie grinned.
“I’ll design it for you if you want. You could do a butterfly on your back. I did a great one for the tattoo parlor last week. They’ve already used it for two people.”
“There’s a career goal for you,” Ted commented drily. “Tattoo artist. I’ll bet Mom and Dad would have loved that.”
“What do you know?” Kate looked annoyed by the comment. “Maybe they would have thought law school was boring. They had more pizzazz than that.”
“They would have been proud of you both,” Annie intervened in the discussion, and basted the bird in the oven again. “We should probably get dressed.” It was eleven o’clock by then.
“No rush. Liz will be an hour late and act surprised. She always does,” Katie commented.
“She has a lot to do.” Annie defended her.
“She just can’t tell time. Who’s she bringing?” Ted asked with interest.
“The photographer she’s dating. Jean-Louis.”
“Oh. A frog. He can watch football with me.”
“Lucky guy,” Kate teased her older brother. “Football is such a redneck sport.” Ted looked murderous for a minute, and then he laughed. Katie had known how to get his goat ever since she could talk, and it was no different now.
A few minutes later they all disappeared to their rooms and emerged again at noon. Ted was wearing gray slacks, a blazer, and a tie and looked heartbreakingly like his father to Annie. They were almost clones. And Katie looked like a more dressed-up version of herself. She was wearing a black leather miniskirt, a black fur-trimmed sweater that Annie had bought her, and black tights and high heels, and she’d put gel on her hair to spike it more, and wore makeup, which she rarely did. She looked beautiful, while still being faithful to her very individual style. And Annie was wearing a soft brown cashmere sweater-dress and high heels.
It was nearly one o’clock when Liz walked into the apartment. She was wearing black leather pants, a white Chanel jacket, and towering high heels. Her blond hair was pulled back in a sleek bun, and she was wearing small diamond earrings that she had borrowed from the shoot, and they were glittering fiercely on her ears. The man who walked in behind her looked like a homeless person she had picked up on the street. He was wearing torn sneakers, jeans with holes in them, and a black hooded sweatshirt with holes in it too. His uncombed hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he had a beard. He was smiling and relaxed as he walked into the room, and he had brought flowers for Annie. His manners were impeccable, and his appearance was totally out of sync with Liz’s. She looked like one of the models from the magazine, and he looked like he had been shipwrecked for a year. And his French accent lent charm to his appearance. He kissed Annie and Katie on both cheeks and shook Ted’s hand. He was personable and friendly, and within minutes, they all forgot how he looked. He was one of the most successful young photographers in Paris, and in great demand in New York. He didn’t seem to care at all about what he wore, nor did Liz. She was obviously happy to be with him, as Annie silently wished her niece didn’t have a weakness for men who looked like that. They all stood around the kitchen while Ted carved the turkey, and then they sat down in the dining room, as Kate lit the candles, and Liz and Annie brought in the food. It was a feast. And by the time they got up from the table, they could hardly move.
“I think it was your best Thanksgiving ever,” Ted complimented Annie, and she beamed. The turkey had been perfect. She had improved her culinary skills over the years, mostly by trial and error.
Ted turned to Jean-Louis then and invited him to watch football with him. The young photographer was only a few years older than Ted but was far more sophisticated. He had talked about his five-year-old son at dinner. He had never been married to the boy’s mother but had lived with her for two years, and they had remained friends. And he said he saw the boy as often as he could. He was planning to spend Christmas with him. And Liz was meeting Jean-Louis in Paris the day after. She had a major jewelry shoot there after the first of the year, and she was going to spend a week with Jean-Louis between Christmas and New Year’s. Annie was intrigued to hear he had a son and wondered how Liz felt about it, but she didn’t seem to mind. It seemed so grown-up for Liz to be dating a man with a child. But she was old enough to take it on if that was what she wanted. Annie wasn’t quite sure. Liz seemed no more serious about Jean-Louis than she had about the look-alikes who came before him. And he seemed no more serious about her, although he was very flirtatious with her, and Annie found them kissing passionately in the kitchen. She suspected the relationship was about sex and enjoying each other’s company. It made her feel old to see it. And for a moment she wondered if Whitney was right. Annie had put that part of her life away on a shelf and forgotten all about it. But it seemed like too much trouble to remember. Those games belonged to youth. Watching Jean-Louis and Liz suddenly made her feel ancient. She had traded her own youth for surrogate motherhood to her sister’s children. Even now it seemed like the right thing to do, and a fair trade, and she didn’t regret it.