Diva Wraps It Up, The

by Davis, Krista

  “Baxter seems quite fond of Gwen. I usually think of a trophy wife as younger than the first one. Gwen certainly isn’t young, but she’s flashy and works at being seductive. Patty seems more timid, like a little mouse.” Liza had them pegged. “They’re totally different types.”

  “Does Luis think Gwen has this disorder thing for real?” asked Nina.

  Liza flipped her palms up dramatically. “You’re married to a doctor. I’m sure he’s just like Luis. He hates it when I repeat his on-the-fly diagnoses. I told him all about Edith Scroggins, but he wouldn’t even venture a guess at her problem!”

  The waitress delivered our lunches. Although Nina’s truffle burger appeared juicy, and the scent of bacon in Liza’s Tagliatelle Carbonara made me take note to try it sometime, my square ravioli with chunks of crab in a salmon-colored sauce was by far the most alluring. Heavenly! The sauce accompanied the crab perfectly without overwhelming it.

  Liza groaned when she sampled her dish. “Oh, this is fabulous!” She leaned toward us as though she hoped no one else would overhear.

  “I truly do not know what possessed me when I allowed Luis to choose a house by himself.” Liza’s large eyes opened wider. “We had such a nice place in Manhattan. It was gorgeous. Everything was taken care of. We had a doorman and a dog walker. The whole thing had been redone and had all the latest fixtures. The kitchen was stainless with those cute glass tiles as a backsplash. The bathroom, oh my! I think it’s the only thing Luis misses. It had pulsating jets that massage. The place was perfect. But no, Luis had to move down here for the history.”

  Nina nodded knowingly. “A lot of people love living here for that reason. After all, how many places can you live where George Washington walked the streets?”

  “I could deal with that, but what made him buy a huge house? I want to rip everything out, but he goes on and on about colonial this and historic that. Meanwhile, I’m gagging. I don’t want to insult you. I know everyone around here loves their old homes, but this Williamsburg style just isn’t for me. Thank goodness Luis came through with the grand piano he promised me.” Liza lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “But the basement! I won’t go down there for anything.” She studied us, her eyes so huge the whites showed on the top and bottom.

  “Ghosts?” I asked.

  Liza’s eyes grew huge. “I don’t want you to think I’m a complete loon.”

  Nina laughed. “We think the ghost of the previous owner of Sophie’s house lives in her kitchen.”

  Liza’s face contorted in confusion.

  I was fairly sure she thought we were the loony ones. “She doesn’t moan or rattle chains or anything. There’s really no proof.”

  Liza placed her hands on the table. “At least I have someone to talk with about this. My mother and sister thought I was out of my mind. Do you have stone basements? Ours has stone walls, a slate floor, and beamed ceilings. And there’s an old stone fireplace that’s black with the soot of the ages. It’s one of the creepiest places I’ve ever been.” Her voice grew shrill when she said, “And it’s in my house!” She whispered, “Sometimes I hear noises. Luis says it’s just the house settling. It’s a couple hundred years old—how much more is it going to settle?”

  Nina nodded. “I had our basement drywalled.”

  “I suggested that we drywall it, but noooo, Luis won’t hear of it. He says people lived there during the Civil War, and he thinks it’s cozy. I told him it’s his man cave. It’s only fair, right?” She snickered. “I have my lovely piano, and he’s stuck puttering around in that awful basement with a huge sofa, a big-screen TV, and his wine collection. I call it the dungeon.”

  “You don’t sound very happy,” I said.

  Liza sagged. “To tell you the truth, I wanted Luis to take the position he was offered in Miami. My mother and sister moved there, and I feel like a fish out of water here, flopping around with nowhere to go. Give me a condo in a building with an elevator, a view of the water, one bedroom, and a kitchen big enough for only a microwave, and I’ll be happy. I have the perfect place picked out.”

  “Only one bedroom?” asked Nina.

  “Not even with a den! I don’t want any room for company or for cooking. In New York, Luis was perfectly content to eat out or order in. The corner coffee shop delivered our coffee and breakfast every morning. When we moved here, Luis suddenly thought I was supposed to be a domestic goddess, and that he’s some kind of macho handyman. I have no idea where that came from. The man didn’t even own a toolbox! Now he likes to buy used stuff from old men at yard sales.” Her upper lip curled in disgust.

  The hostess showed Baxter, Elvin, and Sugar to a table across the room. We waved at them and they politely waved back at us.

  “So, what’s the story with Sugar?” asked Liza.

  I looked at Nina, who looked back at me with a blank expression.

  “Oh, puleeze!” Liza dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “She’s been coming on to Luis like a locomotive. And, I’m sorry, but ballerinas don’t come with surgically enhanced ta-tas. She might be a dancer, but I suspect it involves poles, not tutus. Hasn’t she been after your husband, Nina?”

  “He’s been away.” Nina frowned at her. “Maybe that’s why Gwen doesn’t like her. Do you think Sugar would have had the nerve to put the moves on Baxter? Did you notice that Gwen treated Sugar a little bit like hired help yesterday at the cookie swap?”

  “I didn’t notice that. I did catch Sugar listening in very closely when Gwen hustled Patty off to the kitchen.”

  The conversation moved on to Liza’s interest in music and the Christmas decorating competition.

  Liza’s phone rang a couple of times. She finally pulled it out of her purse. “Pesky thing. I hate it when phones ring during meals. Oh! It’s Luis. Would it be terribly rude to talk to him? It’s not like him to keep calling. It must be an emergency.”

  She took the call and blanched. Her eyes nearly bulged and the fingers of her free hand clutched the handle of her knife as though she planned to plunge it into someone.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Dear Natasha,

  Last year my crazy girlfriend gave me a gold reindeer that’s almost two feet tall. I have no idea what to do with it.

  Needs New Friends in Dasher, Georgia

  Dear Needs New Friends,

  Make it a focal point on a shelf, buffet, or a console table behind your sofa. Cluster shorter objects around it, perhaps a white candle with gold accents and a gold picture frame.

  Natasha

  Liza Simon’s face paled. “No!” she breathed into her cell phone.

  Liza was prone to being dramatic, but the horror on her face was unmistakable. My eyes met those of Nina, across the table.

  I hoped the phone call wasn’t bad news. Especially not at Christmas. But the chatty woman had been rendered speechless, and she looked like someone had died.

  She hung up and Nina asked, “Is everything okay?”

  Still holding the knife, Liza leaned toward us. “Batten down the hatches and lock your doors. Lizzie Borden is coming for Christmas. How’s that for advance notice? The kid is supposed to be with her mother for the holidays this year!” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “She probably waited until the last minute because she knew I would find a way to wiggle out of it.”

  Nina signaled the waiter. “Another round of coffee, please, and we have an emergency situation, so do you think we could have three slices of chocolate raspberry cheesecake?”

  Liza perked up for a moment. “Dessert? I love you guys.”

  The waiter poured more coffee as I asked, “Who is this person?”

  “Luis’s only child, Pandoooora.” Liza’s eyes looked up while her mouth turned down. “Who names a child Pandora? Seriously, don’t you think that’s asking for trouble? She’s fourteen, thinks she knows everything, has already pierced body parts you do
n’t even want to know about, and unleashes evil on the world everywhere she goes.”

  We had barely doctored our coffees with cream and sugar when the cheesecake arrived. “Three cheesecakes aux framboise,” announced the waitress. She set a slice of dark velvety chocolate in front of me. A thin layer of raspberry gelée glistened on the top. Raspberry sauce circled the cake in the shape of hearts, and fresh raspberries sat next to the cake in a dollop of whipped cream.

  “You’re not big on kids?” Nina asked.

  Liza bounced in her seat in surprise. “I love kids! That little Katrina Babineaux next door is adorable. She’s always coming over to see my Yorkshire terrier. Luis’s daughter is . . . different.” Her tone dipped down an octave. “She calls herself the Darling of Darkness.”

  “Goth?” I savored a bite of the creamy cheesecake.

  “I can deal with Goth. I don’t mind the black clothes or the effort to be different. If she wants to wear a nose ring like an old bull, I don’t care. I wasn’t exactly the perky blond cheerleader type myself. I was the tubby girl with braces, and hair that kinked and frizzed when straight hair was all the rage. I would have loved to scare the cool kids that picked on me.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Nina speared a fresh raspberry.

  “Pandora is out of control. Luis and her mother say she wasn’t like that before the divorce, but I don’t believe it. The kid knows how to make them feel guilty, and she works it for everything it’s worth. If she wants a burger at three in the morning, Luis will find a burger at three in the morning. It’s insane. And his ex-wife just will not cooperate. Poor Luis spends more time on the phone with that woman now than he did before the divorce. She calls about every little thing, and”—Liza waved her hands in a big circle—“everything in the world is his fault. I despise the entire situation. So he bends over backward to make them happy. Whatever the ex-wife and Pandora want, they get.”

  “Sounds like the problem is with Luis,” I observed. “Maybe he feels guilty for not being there for her all the time anymore.”

  “There’s no convincing him that he’s creating a monster. Doesn’t everyone know that children need parameters? He’s afraid his ex won’t let him see Pandora if he doesn’t comply with their every whim. But I’m not permitted to express an opinion because I have been cast in the role of the wicked stepmother.” She cackled and splayed her fingers in a witchy way. She heaved a great sigh. “This is going to be the worst Christmas ever.”

  In the late afternoon, staple guns hammered on my roof again as I zipped up the velvet dress I had bought. Daisy had come over with Mars, and now watched carefully while I dressed for my date.

  I skipped the high heels that were worthy of the dress and went with navy blue satin sling backs with peep toes and modest heels, which were more comfortable. A pair of simple diamond stud earrings and a rhinestone bracelet, and I was set. I let my hair tumble down on my shoulders in loose curls. After all, this had the potential to be a romantic evening. I had seen Alex a few times since we met, but he still lived a dual life, part-time in Old Town and part-time in North Carolina.

  Feeling giddy as a young girl, I sashayed down the stairs. The phone rang in the kitchen.

  “Soph?” said Mars. “Could you do a big favor for Bernie and me?”

  “Where are you?” I’d thought he was on my roof trying to get the lights to work.

  “On your roof. Would you go over to my garage and bring back a box of staples? There are two on the middle of my workbench. It’s a hassle going up and down, and we’re just in the middle of something. You can bring them up to the third floor and hand them to us through the window.”

  He knew I had a date. Was this some kind of ruse to get me out of the house? “Maybe Natasha could bring it over. I’m all dressed to go out.”

  “Are you kidding me? You know she wouldn’t do anything to help us.”

  I checked the time. Alex wouldn’t pick me up for at least forty-five minutes. “Okay. But it better not be dirty in your garage.” What was I saying? Natasha probably dusted it daily.

  I hung up the phone, pulled on a coat long enough to cover my tea length dress, and hitched Daisy’s leash onto her collar so she could get in a short walk before I left.

  We crossed the street and stopped to look up at my roof. No lights glowed yet. I suspected that many of the Clark Griswold contestants hadn’t finished their lighting schemes either, but most of the houses sparkled at least a little bit in the wintery night.

  Luis had made enormous progress. In true Griswold style, he dropped lines of lights from the roof down to the ground. The lights seemed to run up and down them, making me slightly seasick. They probably looked better from a distance.

  Baxter and his brother had outlined the dormer windows on the Babineauxs’ roof with bright white lights. Giant letters between them glowed orange and pink, spelling out NOEL.

  Natasha was working on her front door when we walked by.

  I stopped and called out, “I thought you were done with decorating.”

  She trotted down the stairs and glanced next door. Speaking in a hushed voice she said, “I will not be outdone by someone who copies my color scheme. I’m switching everything over to black and silver.”

  “You’re decorating twice in one season?”

  “This is why you’re not at the top of the domestic diva game, Sophie. You don’t understand the importance of originality and being first with trends.”

  “I seem to recall silver Christmas trees a long, long time ago.”

  “Exactly. They’re fashionable again! Think about it. Everyone is in love with stainless steel and clean lines.” She tsked at me. “Or hadn’t you noticed that? Black and silver is so chic. It’s the ultimate elegance.”

  I hoped she would go heavy on the silver so it wouldn’t look like Halloween. “Mars asked me to bring him staples from your garage.”

  “Carriage house,” she corrected me. “Just as long as I don’t have to do it.” She gasped. “Is that your house?”

  I turned to look. Mars and Bernie had plugged in their Santa, sleigh, and reindeer. The reindeer appeared animated, as though they were leaping into flight. “Wow. Who knew Mars could do anything like that?”

  Natasha choked and hacked. “Must be Bernie’s handiwork. I don’t much care for him, but he’s very clever at that sort of thing.”

  I said good-bye and rounded the corner of her house. Daisy kept her nose to the ground in the alley, undoubtedly smelling other dogs who had walked there.

  The VW bus lurked in the darkness like a hulk. A bright blaze hit my eyes as the carriage house lights flicked on. I staggered backward, blinking. Jonah had added a ton of lights to the gingerbread house motif.

  Daisy must not have appreciated the lights quite as much as I did. She wanted to follow a scent away from the carriage house. I had to tug her to the door. I knocked as a formality, because I knew that it led to Natasha’s workshop. The entrance to Jonah and Twiggy’s apartment was inside the building.

  I flicked on the light. Ribbons, ornaments, and wrapping paper cluttered the huge table in the center of Natasha’s craft room. I couldn’t believe she was redoing her entire holiday décor.

  The door to the upstairs apartment bore a wreath that could only have been handcrafted by Twiggy. A foot-high iced gingerbread-house-shaped cookie sat in the middle of a traditional fir wreath, surrounded by red and white gingham ribbon, gaily wrapped candies, and iced gingerbread boys and girls.

  I opened the door to the garage and flicked the light switch. Immaculate, as expected. No ordinary garage lights for Natasha. Overhead can lights gleamed on the glossy gray floor.

  Daisy whined and pulled at her leash, eager to inspect the garage.

  “Honey, Alex is coming to pick me up soon. We don’t have time for lots of sniffing.” She led the way to the workbench. I picked up the two bo
xes of staples and turned to leave.

  Daisy stood her ground, though.

  “Come on, already.” I tugged at her leash gently.

  Daisy ignored me. Her nose led her around Natasha’s car to a wall of white storage cabinets. I had a brand-new garage, but I envied the tall cabinets, big enough for brooms and buckets and patio umbrellas. They could tuck everything away so neatly. Daisy propelled me forward, and I stumbled.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Dear Natasha,

  My persnickety mother-in-law is coming for the holidays this year. She always makes comments about my simplistic decorating style. What’s the one overlooked item that I can wow her with?

  Grumpy Daughter-in-Law in Angeltown, Tennessee

  Dear Grumpy,

  Everyone forgets the hanging light fixtures. Especially in the foyer and the kitchen. Drape the chain and arms with a short garland of pine, and add a lavish wire ribbon and berries, or even better, long feathers! You’ll knock her socks off.

  Natasha

  I regained my footing. I should have worn sneakers.

  Daisy pawed at one of the storage doors.

  “Daisy! No!” I didn’t want her to scratch it.

  I gathered up my voluminous skirt and crouched to examine the door. “Aw, Daisy!” I fingered three perpendicular scratches. They didn’t run deep, but they marred the perfect door.

  Daisy didn’t seem to care and scratched the door again. “Daisy!” I pulled her back, dropping the boxes of staples. Bars of the sharp things skidded all over the glossy painted floor. This was not what I had intended to do in my new dress. “Daisy, sit. Stop scratching that door.”

  I released her leash and for a few minutes, she stayed perfectly still while I collected the staples. All I needed was for Mars or Natasha to drive over the stupid things and get them lodged in a tire.

  When I thought I had them all, I turned back to Daisy. She was still sitting but had scooted over to the cabinet and was in the process of opening it with her nose.