Annihilate Me: Holiday Edition (19 page)

“How
can it be dangerous?”

“You’ll
see.”

Reluctantly,
Alex and I went around to the kitchen, and literally stopped in our
tracks.
 
Blackwell had severed the
entrance to the kitchen with thick, bright-yellow bands of tape.
 
In bold letters, several read:
“CAUTION.”
 
Two others said: “STAY
OUT” and “DANGER.”
 
A final one cut
to the core of it:
 
“CRIME SCENE.”

“Oh,
my word,” I said.

“I
heard that, Jennifer,” Blackwell called.
 
“And don’t you dare come any closer.
 
Stay in the hallway.
 
In the dining room, you’ll find a coffee
station, bagels, croissants, cream cheese and butter, and all sorts of cold
beverages resting in ice so no one has any reason to bother me.
 
We dine at one o’clock sharp.”

“There
must be something we can do to help.”

“Oh,
there is—you can let me focus.
 
You can heed the signs.
 
If
you must help, I do have an idea that I’m open to.”

“What’s
that?
 
You know I want to help.”

“Fine.
 
In a few hours, perhaps you and Lisa can
set the dining room table.
 
Make it
elegant.
 
Use the good china and
silver.
 
Dinner is business casual.
 
Everyone should look nice, but also be
comfortable.
 
I’m already
dressed.
 
I’ve left nothing to
chance.
 
That fat contessa is going
to get me through this.
 
Just you
wait and see.”

I
heard what sounded like a food processor go off, and then just as suddenly it
stopped.
 
“Well, that can’t be
right,” Blackwell said.
 
“That can’t
be right at all.”

I
looked at Alex, but he shook his head at me.
 
By the look in his eyes alone, he was
telling me to respect her wishes.

The
food processor again, and then a frustrated sigh when she stopped it.
 
“This looks nothing like the photo.
 
How in the hell did I make a
placenta?
 
What is this?”

A
placenta?
 
Oh, my God.

“Anyway,
we’ll be around,” I called.
 
“Let us
know if you need anything.”

“Right,
right.
 
Go and have fun.
 
Put on some Christmas music.
 
Everything should be in the oven soon,
and then we can open gifts before dinner.”

When
Alex and I walked back into the living room, we did so with a sense of
dread.
 
A placenta?
 
What could she possibly have made that
looked like a placenta?
 
Talk about
an appetite killer.
 
Gross.

The
only good news is that if everything went to hell, I still had my backup
plan.
 
We still could eat at the
Crocker House.
 
If Blackwell blew
it, I’d just casually call them in front of her and make the reservation.
 
It might confuse the restaurant since we
already had a reservation, but I didn’t want Blackwell to know that I’d already
gone ahead and made it.
 
I didn’t
want to insult her.

It
was at that moment that the fire alarm in the kitchen went off, which naturally
set off every fire alarm in the house.

Before
we could reach the kitchen, Blackwell said, “Don’t worry.
 
I just forgot to turn on the vent over
the stove.
 
Everything’s fine.
 
Don’t you dare come any closer.
 
Go on now.”
 

The
alarms went off.

I
heard a scrambling come from downstairs—Lisa and Tank.

“I
told you,” Blackwell said.
 
“There
are no issues.
 
I’ve got this.”

*
 
*
 
*
 

When
Lisa and Tank emerged from the first floor, Tank was wearing nothing but his
boxer shorts and a look of concern on his face while Lisa feverishly tried to
tie her robe around her waist.

“What
happened?” she said.
 
“Why did the
fire alarms go off?”

Before
I could answer, Daniella straightened on the sofa and said, “Holy shit.
 
Hello, Smokin’ Hot Santa!
 
No wonder they call you ‘Tank’.”

“Daniella,”
I said.

“Well,
look at him.
 
I had an idea, but
even my imagination isn’t that good.
 
Well done, Lisa.”

“Do
you have any idea how rude you’re being right now?” Alexa said.

“I
was just giving him a compliment.”

“You
were objectifying him for his body.”

“I
was not.”

“You
were, too.
 
Tank’s more than his
ridiculously cut abs.”

“So,
I see you also noticed.”

“And
thanks for noticing,” Tank said with a smirk on his face.
 
He crossed his arms in front of him and
his biceps bulged while his pecs flexed and bounced.
 
“No, really.
 
Thanks.”

When
he did that, the girls immediately became silent and just stared at him.

“Anyway,”
I said.
 
“Barbara just forgot to
turn on the vent above the stove.
 
We’re fine.
 
Why don’t you
two get dressed, and come up and have coffee with Alex and me?
 
We also just got up.
 
Barbara set up coffee, bagels, and all
sorts of other things in the dining room because she wants no one to bother her
in the kitchen—as you’ll see.
 
She’s been very creative about her decision to keep everyone at
bay.
 
Dinner is at one.
 
Business casual.
 
I asked if she needed any help, and she
said that if we wanted to, we could set the table for her.
 
Good china and silver.
 
We’ll make it elegant.”

“We
can totally do that,” Lisa said.
 
Her eyes bore into mine.
 
“Just
the two of us.
 
It’ll be fun.”

And
we can be alone and talk about last night.
 
I’m with you, girl.
 
“Perfect.
 
Let’s get moving.
 
Presents are at eleven, so we should
have the table set before then.”

“I’m
on it,” she said.
 
“I’ll shower
later.
 
Give me a minute to get some
clothes on.
 
What a relief.
 
I thought there was a fire.”

“There
is,” Daniella said while looking at Tank.
 
“It’s smoldering right next to you.”

*
 
*
 
*
 

After
coffee, Lisa and I set the table.
 
I
played Christmas music in the living room, and turned up the volume just loud
enough so we’d have our privacy.
 
When I knew we were alone and that the girls weren’t going to follow us,
I finally had the moment I’d been waiting for—I went over and hugged her.

“Dreams
come true,” I said.

“They
do!”

“How
unexpected was that last night?”

“Never
saw it coming.”

“I’m
assuming more was said when you went to bed?”

“Oh,
honey, you don’t even know.”

“Well,
tell me.”

“He
thanked me for being so patient with him.
 
He said that he’d felt this way for awhile now, but that he needed to
make sure before he told me.
 
He
said that he didn’t want to hurt me if he got cold feet.
 
We talked briefly about his ex and how
deeply she hurt him when she cheated on him.
 
And how that affected him.
 
Trust issues were brought up.
 
I told him that I had my share of my
own.
 
Then he told me that he loved
me again, I said the same to him, and then we made love.
 
Quietly this time.
 
As large as that man is and as much as
he dwarfs me, he was incredibly gentle with me.
 
I don’t need anything else for
Christmas.
 
I just got the best gift
a girl could hope for.”

“I’m
so happy for you, Lisa.”

“I
know you are, which just makes it so much better.”

“Let’s
set the table,” I said.
 
“We need to
make some noise.”

“Where’s
the china?”

“Check
the buffet.”

“Got
it.
 
There are seven of us.
 
You and Alex should be at either end of
the table.
 
We’ll put Blackwell on your
left.
 
Me on right.
 
Tank next to me.
 
Alexa next to Blackwell.
 
And Daniella next to Alexa.
 
There’s no way that I’m putting that one
next to Tank.”

“You
can’t really blame her.
 
He was
something to see a moment ago”

“Oh,
he’s totally hot.
 
I get it.
 
And since I’m not the jealous type, I
actually thought what she said was funny.
 
And Tank’s reaction was priceless.
 
She can feast her eyes on him.
 
What girl wouldn’t?”

While
I placed wine glasses around the table, I got the whiff of something that
Blackwell was cooking.
 

“Smell
that,” I said.

“Smell
what?”

“The
air.”

“It
smells like turkey and stuffing.”

“And
it smells good.”

“What
counts is that she doesn’t overcook it.
 
She’s going to have to constantly monitor the temperature.
 
If it’s dry, she’ll be unhappy.
 
And guess who will let her know?”

“Daniella.”

“Bingo.”

“Alexa
will probably pray for the bird.”

“I
don’t even know if she eats meat.”

“Never
thought of that, though she hasn’t said that she doesn’t.”

“What
Blackwell needs to do is to wrap that bird in foil and let it rest for a good
twenty minutes after she pulls it out of the oven.
 
And here’s the good news.
 
I stole a glance at the recipe she’s
using.
 
It says to do just that.”

“So,
she might pull it off after all.”

“Here’s
hoping.”

*
 
*
 
*
 

At
eleven o’clock on the dot, Blackwell emerged from the kitchen and stepped into
the living room looking as cool and as collected as ever.
 

“Time
for presents?” she said to the group.

I
was sitting on one of the sofas with Alex, Lisa and Tank, we
all
had been talking and listening to music, and
I just blinked at her when I saw her.
 

She
was in full makeup, her hair was set to perfection, there wasn’t a sign of
sweat or stress on her face, and she was dressed elegantly in black.
 

I
admired her outfit, which was sublime.
 
She was wearing a gorgeous L’Wren Scott floral lace blouse with a Peter
pan collar with ruffles at her throat; pleated, slim-cut trousers with quarter
top pockets; and a pair of goatskin leather pointed toe Manolo Blahnik d’Orsay
pumps.
 
I knew the shoes well
because I nearly bought them myself when she and I went shopping together two
weeks ago.
 
Obviously, she went back
for them.
 

Good
for her.

Still,
I had to wonder.
 
How in hell had
she stood in those heels and cooked Christmas dinner in them?
 
The heels alone were nearly four inches
high.
 
And after making dinner, how
was it possible that she was still so put together?
 
Nobody comes out of making a dinner
like the one she was making without looking as if they'd emerged from hell
.
 
But apparently Blackwell did.
 
That’s how she rolled.