Step-Ball-Change (19 page)

“Where’s Trey?” I said.

Kay shrugged sweetly and whispered in my ear, “I told Jack he could come. He’s been driving me crazy lately. We’re kind of working through this whole separation thing. He says he wants to still be able to spend time with my family.”

“Hey, Mrs. McSwain!” Jack swung into the room and kissed my cheek. I have already made note of his looks and there is no
need to go over it again. This guy had one outfit or he had many outfits all crushed to look like the same outfit. He managed to keep an extremely consistent layer of stubble on his cheek. He managed to look like the sexy rogue in a beer ad.

“Jack, hello! Kay, sweetheart, I’m going to need you in the kitchen for one minute.”

Off we went through the swinging kitchen door, which was closed to give the dining room the dressier look it never achieves. I took her shoulders in my hands. “What in the hell are you doing with Jack?” I knew this was not the place I should be starting. We had a lot of ground to cover in a very short period of time.

“Jack is a friend of mine, you know that.” Kay was using her lawyer tone on me and it did not work.

“We’re meeting with wedding planners, we’re talking about colors, we’re spending every evening poring over dresses, and you’re showing up at your aunt’s birthday party with your old boyfriend?”

“He’s
a friend
, Mother. There is nothing going on between Jack and me. You know I love Trey.”

“That’s great. Tell him that when he gets here for dinner.”

Kay blinked and then she cocked her head to one side. It was a look Stamp sometimes gave me when he was trying to figure out what in the hell I was talking about. “Trey’s not coming to dinner,” she said calmly.

“I invited him. I called him.”

Now her eyes were open wide. “How could you! How could you do that to me?”

“I was being polite. I thought surely you’d told him. I told you to invite him. I was just—”

Doorbell.

Kay grabbed me. “I’ll get the door, you tell Jack.”

There was no discussion this time. She was out of there as fast as a wire-haired fox terrier with a mouth full of liverwurst. I slipped through the door in one of its mad crashes back and forth, the wake of Kay’s panic. “Jack? Could I see you in the kitchen for just one minute?”

Jack ambled in, a beer in his hand, Irish charm and Irish trouble written all over him. “Can I help with dinner?”

“Can you help with dinner,” I said, thinking about it. “Yes, really, you can. There isn’t a lot of time, so I’ll get right to the point. Kay invited you to dinner and I invited Trey, so you’re going to have to go out there and make yourself look very much like the friend of the family that you keep telling everybody you are.”

Jack was taking it in. There was no great look of glee on his face. Then Taffy swung through the door with her empty glass.

“He’s here again,” she said to me, looking at Jack.

“There’s been a little mix-up,” he said sadly.

“I should say so. I was just talking to the future bridegroom in the living room.”

“I should go,” Jack said.

He was something, that one. I could see why Kay would have a hard time shaking him off. He looked so utterly defeated that I wanted to put my arms around him. He was charming when he was happy, but he was irresistible when he was sad.

“Don’t do it,” Taffy said. She was in a bright mood, wearing a set of gold silk hostess pajamas with a long strand of pearls that no one in their right mind would have packed for a visit to Raleigh, but she looked fantastic. In spite of all the things that had changed, she was still my little sister, a girl who loved parties and loved them best when they were for her. “We’ll just say you’re my date.” She
put her hand on his arm. “Taffy was always crazy about Kay’s friend Jack. They hit it off so well together.”

“He wouldn’t dream of missing her birthday party,” Jack said, gratefully putting his hand over hers.

“She wouldn’t even have a party without him.”

“You know I owe you for this,” Jack said.

“Maybe we’ll owe each other. It’s still your responsibility to cheer me up.”

And off they went to the party. I went into the cupboards and took out another place setting. If the doorbell didn’t ring again, I could avoid putting another leaf in the table.

SURPRISE #4:
The doorbell rings again.

Despite all the reconfiguration, everyone seemed to be having a very good time. Erica was talking to Trey about the hospital where she was doing her student nursing, which happened to be a hospital his parents owned, and they both agreed it was an excellent facility. Taffy was talking to Woodrow about where he had been and how Stamp seemed to be having a relapse in his absence. George was rhapsodizing to Jack about the fabulousness that was Erica. Kay was talking to her father about a case, but mostly she was sneaking off glances at Trey and then Jack, and I thought maybe it was good for her to have them both in the same room, where she could do some serious competitive evaluations and make up her mind once and for all. I was serving my cheese puffs, which had turned out magnificently. Everyone was milling about and drinking and paying Taffy lavish compliments, which was what people really wanted for their birthday.

When the doorbell rang, I briefly had the thought, Who now? I was sure that there was no one left to come to the party. It was
probably the Christian missionaries of my imagination, come to see if I was still interested in being saved.

When I opened the door, I knew what I should have gotten for Taffy for her birthday. I should have tracked down Holden and invited her to the party. The truth is, I’d never even considered it, and yet there she stood, with an armload of presents. She raised one finger to her lips and I stepped outside and shut the door behind me.

“Holden!” I wrapped my arms around my niece, knocking a couple of the gifts to the ground, but who cared? I was thrilled that she was there, and at the same time I realized she should have been there weeks ago.

“I wanted to surprise Mother,” she said.

Had this woman come from any part of our family? Her hair was long and blond and stick straight. She was tall, and with her pale skin and red lipstick, her black T-shirt that looked like it cost three hundred dollars, I thought she should have been a movie star rather than wasting her time representing them. She had all of her mother’s beauty, all of her mother’s poise, but her look was glamorous whereas Taffy’s was soft. There was a black Porsche 911 parked in front of the house.

“You drove?”

Holden looked behind her shoulder. “That? No, I rented it at the airport.”

“You can rent a Porsche?”

“You can rent anything,” she said, smiling. “How’s Mom?”

I reached up and touched her hair. It was cool and heavy. “She’s been awful and okay. She’s going to be a million times better now that you’re here.”

“I should have come sooner. It’s just been crazy. We had a lot of luck at Cannes and then there were so many deals to close. I
thought I’d get away last week, and then yesterday I looked at my schedule and I just thought, Get on a plane.”

“She’s going to be so happy. We’re having a party for her.”

“A surprise party?”

“It’s certainly turning into one.” I picked up the presents and rearranged them in Holden’s arms. The gold foil paper from the packages reflected the light onto her face and made her shine. Holden had such a genius for details. She’d probably picked the paper with that in mind.

We came inside and I closed the door behind us. “Who was it?” Tom said, walking into the entry hall. He broke out into a huge smile when he saw Holden there. Silently, he kissed her cheek and then stepped aside so she could be the first one in the room. She made a perfect entrance—the boxes, the pink from the cool night air still in her cheeks. The whole room turned and fell silent at the sight of her.

“Happy Birthday, Mother.”

Tom leaned over and took the boxes away just as Taffy stepped into Holden’s arms. A second later Stamp raced across the room, jumping up higher than he had for the liverwurst until Taffy and Holden were forced apart and Holden caught the dog in midair and held him. He was so ecstatic that he twisted and wrenched in her arms, as if he was trying to get even closer to her as she held him.

Jack the D.A. leaned over and whispered in my ear, his voice stunned as if from a sharp blow. “Who’s the goddess?”

“That’s my niece, Holden.”

“Dear Lord,” he said.

It had been good before, but now it was really a party. The champagne meant for toasts with the cake was broken out before dinner. Holden saw Kay’s engagement ring and threw her arms
around her neck. “You’re getting married! That’s brilliant. Look at this ring! My God, Elizabeth Taylor must be sweating out her status as having the best engagement ring.” Holden looked at the group. “First she’s a lawyer and now she’s getting married. No wonder I never come home. I always feel like such an underachiever.”

Everyone laughed as if she’d said something very funny. Holden put her hand on Jack’s arm and squeezed. “Are you the lucky one?”

“I’m lucky,” he said, never giving Kay a look. “I’m not that lucky.”

“Then who are you?” she asked.

“Leftovers,” Jack said. “Jack Carroll.”

“I’m Trey Bennett.” Trey held out his hand but Holden kissed him instead. “The groom! Then you’re the lucky man. You have to promise to give her everything she wants. This is my very favorite cousin. Forgive me, George. My favorite female cousin.” She leaned her head against Kay’s shoulder. “This man is gorgeous,” she said, sotto voce, fully intending to be heard by everyone. Trey blushed in gratitude. Holden immediately lifted the glass Tom handed her. “To my beautiful, lucky cousin. I drink to your engagement. And to my wonderful mother on her birthday. I am so happy to be with you!”

“Hear! Hear!” called the crowd.

Woodrow watched the scene with appreciation. “The apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree,” he said to my sister.

There was a strange muffled bleating sound, as if someone had left a sheep in the coat closet. Holden shrugged with mock embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” She slipped her hand inside her Tod’s bag. “That’s me.” She took out a phone the size of two credit cards sewn together and she flipped it open. “Holden,” she said. Her voice had the same clipped edge that her mother’s had when teaching a tap
class. “Did you get the fax? We have the papers until the twenty-third. That’s right. Then get them signed.” She flipped the phone shut without saying good-bye. “When does it all end?” she said.

“This is Erica Woodrow,” George said, presenting her to Holden. “And this is her father, Woodrow.”

Holden shook their hands and expressed her real pleasure in meeting them. “George can dance,” she said to Erica. “Do you know how hard it is to find a man who can dance?”

“I’m not much of a dancer myself,” Erica admitted.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s like Fred Astaire. He can make anyone look good on a dance floor. Not that you need any help looking good.”

Holden passed out compliments evenly and sincerely. We all felt amazed that someone so worldly seemed to enjoy our humble company. As she worked her way across the room, she managed to make every person there feel that he or she was the one she had most wanted to see.

“Isn’t this all so divine?” she said.

It was all we could do to make ourselves sit down and eat the lamb before it was well-done. Taffy sat on one side of her daughter, and with the aid of some simple diversion tactics, Jack managed to swing into the chair on Holden’s other side. I thought I detected a slight cloud of irritation cross Kay’s face but, like the rest of the party, I was too entranced with Holden to care. Holden made no attempt to dominate the conversation, but people kept asking her questions. She rewarded them with stories about movie stars and the South of France. She shamelessly ratted out her clients for our entertainment, and Taffy basked in the glow of her extended light.

Holden let Stamp sit in her lap while she ate and Woodrow didn’t say a word about it. “I begged them to use Stamp for the lead
in
My Dog Skip
,” she said. “In the book the dog is a fox terrier, not a Jack Russell. That other dog was all wrong for the part.”

“So how did it fall through?” Woodrow asked.

Holden crushed the dog against her breast and every man in the room sighed. “Stamp had too many scruples. He wasn’t willing to sleep with the right people.”

“You never told me you had a cousin,” Trey said to Kay.

“Doesn’t everyone have cousins? You probably have hundreds of cousins you haven’t told me about.”

“She’s my cousin, too, you know,” George said. “Other boys used to have pictures of Heather Locklear in their lockers, but I always had one of Holden in mine.”

“Isn’t that slightly creepy?” Erica asked.

“It’s creepy when you’re thirty, but when you’re thirteen it’s pretty endearing.”

Erica smiled and George took her hand and held it. It would take a lot more than a cousin to knock out Erica Woodrow’s self-esteem.

Kay, on the other hand, had always walked the fine line between adoring her only girl cousin, like the rest of the world did, and being jealous of her. Holden cast a longer shadow than any girl in Atlanta.

The sheep in the closet let out another plaintive bleat. “Isn’t this awful? At the dinner table.” But even as she was saying it, she was reaching into her purse. “Holden.” Her face melted into a smile. “Darling. No, of course I don’t mind. Don’t be silly, that’s why I gave you the number.”

No one could say a word. We couldn’t even pretend to be whispering about something else. There was nothing to do but sit there and take in every word of the conversation.

“I saw the rushes and I thought they were gorgeous. No, I’m serious, you looked like an angel.” Holden put her hand over the tiny mouthpiece and whispered, “Jennifer.” The younger members of the table made a low, appreciative sound. Everyone over forty stared blankly. “Definitely the white. It’s perfect for you. Well, don’t let them talk you into it if it isn’t what you want. Do you want me to call them? I’ll do it. Perfect. Don’t even think about it. Much love.” She snapped the phone shut.