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Authors: Laurien Berenson

BOOK: A Christmas Howl
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“Michael wasn't the only one who had to deal with bad news,” Max said with a snort. “By the time I got my hands on them, Nana's remaining assets were barely half what they should have been. Even accounting for Michael's losses in the last two years of her life, the estate was still much smaller than I had expected it to be.”
“Perhaps Nana hid the full extent of her investments in Michael's career from you,” Peg ventured.
“The thought has occurred to me.”
“But you never asked him.” It wasn't a question. Peg already knew the answer.
Max shook his head. “When she was alive, all Nana wanted was for Michael and me to act like brothers. I figured I owed her memory at least that much.”
“Precisely,” said Peg. “And that is why you and I will join Eileen and Michael and the children for Christmas dinner. If there's any possibility of a rapprochement between you and Michael, I have no intention of standing in the way.”
She glanced over at Salute. Feeling her gaze, the black Standard Poodle opened his eyes, then stood up and stretched. Peg held out a hand and beckoned. Obligingly, the big dog stepped forward and positioned himself within easy reach.
“I was thinking I might take Salute with us tomorrow,” Peg said, cupping the dog's long muzzle in her palm.
“Oh?”
“Now that he's retired from the show ring, there's not a lot of excitement in his life. I'd imagine he'd enjoy a day out.”
“Of course he would.” Max sounded amused. “Now tell me the real reason.”
“It occurred to me that if I was going to spend the day surrounded by your family, I ought to have at least one friendly face to look at. Present company excluded, of course.”
Max barked out a laugh. “I can't argue with your logic. Though Eileen might. She doesn't like dogs. Or pets of any kind, for that matter.”

Truly?
” The thought was inconceivable to Peg. “I always knew there was something wrong with those people. How can you raise children and not allow them to have pets?”
“Don't ask me, I'm on your side. But before you go flying over there like a crusading avenger, I should point out that you're several years too late to help Melanie and Frank. Those two aren't children anymore.”
“Really? The last time I saw Melanie, she barely came up to my chest. I'm quite certain she had pigtails.” That might have been an exaggeration, thought Peg. But not by much.
“Well, she's not in pigtails now,” Max informed her. “Melanie's almost finished with college. Not only that, but Eileen told me she's bringing her boyfriend to Christmas dinner.”
“A
boyfriend
coming to a holiday dinner with the whole family? It sounds like that must be serious.”
“I gather Eileen hopes not.”
“She's already met the fellow?”
“So she said. The young man's name is Bob. He's studying to be an accountant.”
“Oh my.” Peg held back a chuckle. “He sounds deathly dull. What do we know about Melanie? Is she deathly dull too? Maybe they're a good match.”
“I barely know anything more about her than you do. But I'm sure we'll find out tomorrow.”
“I can hardly wait,” said Peg.
She loved her husband. She truly did. That was why she waited until Max had looked away before rolling her eyes.
 
 
Salute stayed home.
There was no point in starting off the holiday visit on the wrong foot, Peg decided. And if taking the big Poodle along was going to upset Eileen, well . . . based on past experience with both her in-laws and her Standard Poodles, Peg was sure that her dog's easygoing temperament left him better equipped to deal with adversity than Eileen's uptight disposition ever would.
Peg bid the Poodles good-bye, gathered up her pies, and joined Max in the car for the twenty-minute drive to New Canaan. The grim smile on her husband's face looked every bit as forced as her own faux-merry demeanor. Before leaving the house, she'd stopped to pin a blinking Christmas tree brooch on the front of her dress. With luck, the tiny flashing lights might liven up the visit. Or at least give them all a good laugh, Peg thought.
One could only hope. Somehow laughter seemed like something that might be in short supply during the hours to come.
The trip eastward on the Merritt Parkway passed all too quickly. New Canaan was quiet on Christmas afternoon. It didn't take long to cut through the quaint town before heading north on Oenoke Ridge Road.
Max's brother's family lived in a lovely colonial home, set back from the road behind a stand of mature trees. The property was bordered by a low stone wall whose tidy appearance was reinforced by the neatly kept lawn. There wasn't a leaf or twig out of place.
The substantial, two-story house was painted dove gray and had dark green shutters. An electric candle flickered in each upstairs window. A double door, each side decorated with an ornate wreath, marked the front entrance. Low bushes on either side of the wide front steps had been covered with fairy lights. On approach, the entire vista looked festive and wonderfully inviting.
And, Peg thought, expensive.
“How do you suppose Michael continues to afford this place?” she asked curiously.
Max just shrugged. He steered the car to a parking area near the garage. “He and Eileen have lived here forever. They bought this house before the kids were born. Maybe he was flush back then. Or maybe it's mortgaged to the rafters. I'm certainly not going to ask.”
Max was reaching for the door handle. He paused and sent his wife a meaningful look. “And neither are you.”
Peg lifted a brow but didn't reply. Instead she busied herself with gathering up the desserts. She wasn't going to argue with Max. Not today of all days. But it was going to be an even longer afternoon than she'd envisioned if she had to spend the entire time watching what she said.
His own arms filled with presents, Max rang the front doorbell. He and Peg waited. After a minute, he rang the bell again.
“Do you suppose they've changed their minds about us?” Peg asked hopefully.
“I doubt it.” Max freed up a hand and pushed the buzzer again.
This time, the chimes that sounded within the house brought a response. One half of the front door swept open. A young girl dressed in blue jeans and a holiday sweater peered out at them uncertainly.
She had to be Melanie, Peg thought with only the barest glimmer of recognition. Goodness, how many years had it been?
Max had said the girl was in college. If so, she looked young for her age. She had a soft, unmolded quality about her, as if experience had yet to sharpen her into the adult she would someday become.
Without thinking about it, Peg squared her shoulders; her posture was always impeccable. She couldn't help but notice that Melanie still stood a full head shorter than she did. Surely, Peg thought, the girl wasn't finished growing yet?
“Merry Christmas!” Max greeted the girl in a booming voice. He'd obviously decided it was up to him to set the proper mood.
“Merry Christmas,” she parroted back, opening the door wide.
Max juggled the presents to one side and gathered Melanie into a hug. “I hope you were expecting us?”
“Yes, of course. Sorry about that! Everybody thought someone else got the door.” The burst of words came tumbling out in a rush. “Mom's busy in the kitchen. Dad and Bob are watching football in the library. And Frank, well, you could spend all day waiting for him to do something useful. We didn't mean to keep you waiting. Please come inside!”
Melanie eyed the stack of incoming presents with evident surprise before remembering her manners and turning to Peg. “Aunt Peg?” The greeting came out sounding more like a question. “How lovely to see you again. Let me take your coat. Mom will be delighted to see those pies. Did you bake them yourself?”
“Yes, I did,” Peg lied blithely. The pies had come from St. Moritz, the best bakery in Greenwich. But if Melanie didn't have the sense to notice the gold labels affixed to the top of the white boxes, she deserved to be misinformed.
Peg pulled off her coat and scarf and dumped them in Melanie's arms. Max's outerwear followed.
“Perhaps we could put these presents under the tree?” Max asked. Though they'd been invited into the house, they still seemed to be stuck standing just inside the front door.
Peg peered across the wide hallway into an expansive living room. Her Christmas tree at home was large, but it was dwarfed by the massive Scotch Pine that was the centerpiece of Michael and Eileen's decorations. Dozens of glass ornaments glittered in the soft light. Gold bows fluttered from nearly every branch. A fussy-looking Christmas angel graced the top of the tree. She was so high in the air that her gold halo scraped the twelve-foot coffered ceiling.
How odd, Peg thought, that with the entire family at home, the living room with its beautiful tree was empty of people. Why go to all the trouble to put up lavish decorations for the holiday and then not enjoy looking at them?
“Presents?” came a voice from above. “Did I hear someone say there were presents?” A lanky teenage boy with angular features and long, dark bangs that hid his eyes came skipping down the steps.
“Of course that would get your attention, Frank.” He'd only just appeared, but Melanie already sounded exasperated by her brother. “Yes, Uncle Max and Aunt Peg brought us presents. Wasn't that nice of them?”
“Let me help you with those.” Frank whisked the boxes out of Max's arms and headed into the living room. “And by the way,” he called back over his shoulder, “Merry Christmas!”
“Same to you,” Peg replied. She hoped the boy would prove to be more interesting than his bland sister.
“Don't just stand there, Mel,” said Frank. “Go fetch the parents. Do they even know that Uncle Max and Aunt Peg are here?”
“We do now.” Eileen appeared at the back of the hallway. Striding quickly toward them, Peg's sister-in-law pulled off an apron she was wearing over her dress and tossed it over the banister. “Honestly, you two, where are your manners? How long have Max and Peg been standing here?”
Eileen wrapped her arms around Max and kissed him on each cheek. “Teenagers,” she said as she pulled away. “Other parents tell me they've survived this stage, but honestly I'm not sure it's possible.”
She glanced at Peg as if she thought a handshake might be appropriate. Peg was having none of it. It was bad enough that she'd had to leave her Standard Poodle at home. She wasn't about to let her sister-in-law treat her like an interloper at Christmas dinner too. When Eileen shifted her way, Peg stepped forward with her arms out. The two women came together in an awkward embrace.
“Michael?” Eileen called as she stepped back. “Max is here!”
“He and Bob are watching football,” said Melanie. “They probably can't hear you.”
“Or they don't want to,” Eileen muttered.
“I'll go.” Melanie spun around and made a quick assessment of her looks in a mirror hanging on the side wall. Then she went scooting away.
Eileen looked after her and sighed. “Bob is Melanie's boyfriend,” she said for Peg's benefit. She didn't sound particularly happy about that fact.
“So I heard,” Peg replied. “Max has been bringing me up to speed.”
“That's good, then. You'll know who everybody is.”
She should hope so, thought Peg. Considering that she'd been related to most of them for more than two decades.
A minute passed in silence as they waited. When nobody appeared, Eileen wound her arm though Max's. “Maybe it would be easier if we went to join them,” she said.
Eileen led her brother-in-law away. Left to her own devices, Peg trailed along behind like a lost puppy. Her nephew, Frank, seemed to have vanished again, she noted. So much for hoping for any entertainment from him.
“Dinner is in an hour,” Eileen was saying. Her voice was high and chirpy. Peg wondered if it always sounded that way or if that was her holiday voice. “And of course you'll want a drink beforehand. Some eggnog to celebrate the day? Or Scotch? Michael has an excellent bottle of Chivas in the library. If you ask nicely, he might be persuaded to share.”
Eileen laughed at her own joke. Max didn't look as though he thought it was particularly funny, but after a moment, he joined in anyway.
“I'll have eggnog,” Peg said to herself. “Not that anybody cares.”
“Of course you will,” Eileen replied.
Peg wondered what that comment meant. She didn't dare ask.
The trio had nearly reached the library when Michael came striding through the open doorway. Peg hadn't seen her brother-in-law since Nana's funeral; the impression she'd had of him then still remained. Michael was a slightly shorter, slightly grayer version of Max. Both men had the same broad shoulders and long torsos. They both had kind eyes and smiled readily—at least when they weren't talking to one another.
“Merry Christmas, Michael,” Peg said firmly, as if by stating the greeting she could make it true. Rather than stepping forward herself, she applied both hands to Max's back and propelled him toward his older brother.
Both wives watched with satisfaction as the two men shook hands.
“Merry Christmas, indeed,” Michael replied heartily. “It was good of you to come.”
“An invitation to a family gathering?” said Max. “Peg and I wouldn't have missed it. And this must be Melanie's friend, Bob?”
A young man was standing behind Michael, lingering just inside the room. Peg realized with a guilty start that she hadn't even noticed him until Max pointed him out. Usually her powers of observation were better than that. On the other hand, now that she was paying attention and had a look, there wasn't much to see. Everything about boyfriend Bob appeared to be perfectly ordinary. He struck her as the kind of average individual who would have gone unnoticed in a crowd of two.

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