by Mona Marple
“Mother,” Christopher called across the table. “Eat!”
Eliza took a moment to identify who had barked the order at her. Christopher stuck his arm up as if he was in class. In an act of defiance, Eliza opened her mouth and took out her false teeth. Plopped them in the glass of water in front of her.
“Oh my God,” Grace muttered.
“Ham on a Saturday,” Eliza gummed the words. “Always. She knows that.”
“This isn’t just a Saturday, it’s New Year’s Eve!” Grace exclaimed.
“Let her starve,” Christopher said.
“Put the teeth away, gran!” Daisy asked. The colour had drained from Luke’s face. Nobody at the table was eating.
“Why are we here, mother?” Christopher asked. “It’s not because you love our company, that’s for sure.”
“And we didn’t all turn up because we love hers,” Rose muttered under her breath. She had created a scant selection of vegan-approved food on her plate.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Eliza said in her gummy voice. She sat with her clawed hand in front of her, the fingers of her good hand working to un-peel each crooked digit on the other hand. Each one moved a centimetre, maybe less. Eliza saw Connie watching. “My exercises.”
Connie nodded and gave a smile. She knew it had been closer to ten years than five since Eliza’s stroke, and figured that the chance of her exercises having an effect were slim. The woman’s naivety was surprising, considering the fact that she was so brutal with the truth in other regards. Lynn, the nurse, hovered in the background, ready to assist Eliza if required.
“Wait,” Zeb said. “You have news or something?”
“Of course she does,” Bobby said as he bit into a dinner roll. “You think she paid for us all to come here out of the goodness of her heart?”
“Well, no,” Zeb admitted.
“Maybe she’s selling the business,” Christopher said. “That’s my guess. You’ll have to see how you do on the real job market, Bobby. Repeat after me, do you want fries with that?”
Zeb stifled a laugh. Bobby slammed his dinner roll into his mashed potato.
“That’s out of order,” Bobby seethed. He pushed his chair back and stood up. “Take that back!”
Christopher shrugged.
“I’ve got real hands on experience of running a company!”
“Running it into the ground,” Eliza said. She’d fished her teeth from her glass and set them back in her mouth, but everyone had lost their appetite.
“You wouldn’t dare sell it, mother!” Bobby shouted. “That business is mine!”
“It’s all of ours, actually,” Zeb said. “Whenever one of us finally gets the nerve to put the old woman out of her misery.”
“Not Taylor’s,” Christopher said. He offered Taylor an apologetic smile.
Taylor leaned in and lowered his voice. “Only the married sons inherit.”
Connie gave a slow nod. “Seems a strange rule for a woman who hates her daughters-in-law.”
“Right?” Taylor laughed.
Zeb pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. “I’m going to fetch a book.”
He left the room and trampled upstairs. Grace stood up. Her mouth was pursed and she focused her attention on the table, avoiding eye contact with everyone. She stacked plate after plate in a furious silence. The meal she’d spent all day preparing had been barely touched. Even Connie didn’t dare offer any help.
“So, Christopher,” Connie said. “Corporate law must be pretty exciting?”
He puffed out a breath of air at the question. “It has its good and bad times, like everything. It’s getting a little old, to be honest.”
“Old?” Taylor raised an eyebrow. “That’s news to me.”
“You hardly keep in touch,” Christopher said.
“You must be near retirement, surely? A few more years and you’ll walk away with a lawyer’s fat pension?”
“It’s not just about money.”
“You’re serious?” Taylor asked. “You’re thinking of quitting?”
Christopher flinched. “Not quitting. Starting over.”
“What does Lottie think?”
“We haven’t talked about it yet,” Christopher admitted. “She’ll support me, though.”
“She likes her new cars and jewellery.”
“She likes a happy husband more,” Christopher said, but his voice faltered. “Anyway, I need a smoke.”
He excused himself from the table and Connie reached for Taylor’s hand. She let out a breath. Everyone seemed distracted with their own thoughts, or appeared that way as Grace returned to the room time and time again and made a show of clattering the dishes and scraping leftovers. Nobody met her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” Connie whispered.
Taylor flashed her a smile. “Don’t be. One Christmas, Grace actually poisoned the dessert.”
“You’re kidding?” Connie asked, eyes wide.
“She never admitted it. But everyone’s bowels got pretty loose afterwards… apart from her.”
“Let me guess, she did it because nobody helped her?”
“You can’t understand crazy, Connie,” Taylor winked. “And all of these people are crazy.”
They sat in silence together for five, ten, twenty minutes. People milled around in the room but the two of them had found a brief moment of peace and were in no rush to give it up.
Eventually, Grace stood before them. “Are you going to get out of my way? The table doesn’t clear itself.”
“Sure thing,” Taylor said. He rose out of his chair and Connie did the same. “We’ll get right out of your way.”
They almost banged into Zeb walking back into the room as they went to exit. He placed his hands up in front of his chest, an innocent man.
“Where’s your book?” Connie asked.
He looked down into his empty hands and furrowed his brow.
“You went up for your book?”
He grinned, a whisper of rouge crossing his cheeks. “Couldn’t find it.” He said with a shrug, and the three of them made their way into the drawing room.
11
The group moved into the drawing room, all still hungry but none daring to say so. Bobby reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a fat cigar.
“Since when do you smoke?” Christopher asked.
“You’re not the only one who can enjoy the finer things in life,” Bobby sneered.
“They’ll kill you,” Christopher said.
“Something’s got to,” Bobby shrugged. “And that’s rich coming from you. Have you given up?”
“Yes,” Christopher said, but his voice faltered and he watched his brother light up a little too longingly. “I’m going to get changed.”
He stomped out of the room and Bobby laughed as his shadow disappeared. The laugh became a cough and Rose walked over and slammed him on the back, perhaps harder than necessary.
“You’ve only brought the thing to try and compete with him,” Rose muttered. “Does mom know?”
“Leave her, she’s in her element,” Bobby said. The angry scrubbing of dishes came from the kitchen. Nobody suggested he was wrong.
“So, mother, this news. When do we hear it?” Zeb called across to Eliza, who had placed her handbag on her knee and clutched it as if she was surrounded by ne’er-do-wells waiting to pounce on it.
“Stop it,” Dottie muttered.
Zeb glanced at his wife, his face a question mark.
“She’s obviously in a bad mood. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”
“You know mother well enough,” Zeb said. “Even if you do refuse to attend family get togethers.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, dear, you are,” he said with mock affection, then caught Connie watching and gave a grin. “Married bliss. You’ll see what it’s like.”
Connie’s cheeks flamed.
Christopher returned to the room dressed in silk pyjamas. The conversatio
ns all stopped and Eliza’s grip on her handbag even loosened.
“What on earth are you dressed as?”
“They’re very comfortable, mother,” Christopher said. He straightened his posture and grew half an inch.
“Are they your wife’s?” Eliza asked. She pushed her glasses down her nose and looked at him over the top of them. “They’ve got…. They’ve got flowers on them!”
“I’m aware of their pattern,” Christopher snapped. “I chose it. A client tailored them for me.”
“Gifts from clients?” Zeb waggled his eyebrows. “Is that allowed?”
“Oh, shut up!” Christopher called. He moved further into the room. His legs appeared to glide, the trouser material was so smooth and flowing. “These pyjamas are made from the finest silk. I may be the only person in the state to own a pair.”
“I bet you’re right about that,” Eliza muttered. Her attention returned to her handbag, until she caught sight of Rose out of the corner of her eye. “You? No gentleman friend yet?”
Daisy winced.
“No, gran,” Rose said.
“When you start eating meat again you’ll find someone who’ll have you.”
“Oh, how high your hopes are for me,” Rose said. She was a coiled spring, ready to attack with a moment’s notice. Connie saw the way Daisy retreated, prepared herself. “Although, we can’t all have Daisy’s luck, can we?”
“Rose…” Daisy warned, her voice low. Roo sat on her lap and Daisy whispered something to the girl, then planted a kiss on her forehead and watched her skip out of the room. Her soft footprints could be heard as she made her way upstairs.
“We can’t all marry a celebrity and buy a baby, gran,” Rose said, a sugary smile on her face as she spoke.
“I married my high school sweetheart and helped him become a celebrity,” Daisy’s voice was measured. “And I won’t even acknowledge your comments about our daughter.”
Rose scoffed. “You never wanted him to be a singer. I remember you hating the attention, thinking he’d run off with all of those women in the bars. It wasn’t until the money poured in that you decided to change your tune, pretend you’d masterminded the whole thing.”
“Rose, hey, it’s…” Luke began.
“And your daughter?” Rose continued, her voice rising.
“At least keep your voice down,” Daisy threatened. “If you insist on being so poisonous, do it quietly. We don’t want Roo to hear.”
“Can you even say her full name?”
“Of course I can!”
“You’ve stripped that girl of her culture, all because you thought it would look good in the next magazine spread. Luke Holland and his adoring wife-slash-manager adopt a dark skinned child! Aren’t you just regular heroes.”
“That’s not it,” Luke said.
“It’s darn near enough to the truth,” Eliza spoke up. Her involvement surprised everyone, even Rose, who wasn’t used to being on the same side as her grandmother.
“We don’t have to listen to this,” Daisy said. Her skin was mottled with emotion but she made no move to leave the room. “I understand her venom,” she gestured to Eliza with a tilt of her head. “But you, Rose? Isn’t a sibling supposed to be your best friend in life?”
The adult brothers eyed each other awkwardly.
“You’re too used to yes-men, that’s the problem. A child isn’t a fashion accessory, Daisy! Imagine being a child and looking nothing like your parents. It isn’t fair on her.” Rose continued.
“She makes a valid point,” Eliza said with a frown. “For once.”
“Why don’t you tell her the truth, Rose, if you’re such good friends with gran all of a sudden?” Daisy called.
Rose’s cheeks flamed.
“Gran?” Daisy raised her voice to be sure she had Eliza’s attention. “There’s a reason Rose hasn’t brought any nice boys home yet.”
“Oh, shut up,” Rose muttered.
“Let’s see whether you two share an opinion on all of the important things in life,” Daisy said, but her voice had dropped and it was clear that her heart wasn’t in it.
“Don’t lower yourself,” Luke whispered in her ear, a little too loud.
“Well?” Eliza raised an eyebrow and watched Rose carefully.
Rose went to open her mouth.
“I was joking, gran,” Daisy came to her sister’s rescue.
Rose eyed her and sent a silent thank you.
Grace poked her head in the door. “Anyone for dessert?”
Everyone grinned at her in relief, eager for something, anything to distract the group from its own company. Connie felt a little light-headed. There were so many rivalries, grudges and arguments she could barely choose one to try and keep up with.
“It’s like being drunk without drinking anything,” she confided to Dr Dottie as they joined the line to serve their own cake in the kitchen. The self-service was their punishment for not eating dinner, Connie suspected.
“Huh?” Dr Dottie asked, her thoughts nowhere near her physical location. “Oh, the family? And it gets no better. You think they’d run out of things to argue about eventually, but apparently not.”
“How long have you been part of the family?”
Dr Dottie gave a wry smile. “Ten years? Maybe more. I’m not a romantic, I’m afraid. They all blend in together.”
“I like Zeb,” Connie declared, then felt silly. Dottie was a medical doctor! An educated woman! She certainly didn’t need Connie’s approval of her choice of mate.
“He’s not the worst in the room,” Dottie accepted. “Although Taylor had the best idea, building a life without the rest of them.”
“They love each other really, I’m sure,” Connie said with a smile.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Dottie said. With that, she took a glance at the selection of cakes, turned up her narrow nose, and left the line empty-handed. The slight didn’t escape Grace’s attention as she stood by the table, awaiting praise for her hard work.
“Making friends?” Taylor asked. He’d allowed Dottie to go before him in line and, with her gone, he closed the gap and placed an arm around Connie’s waist.
Connie shook her head. “I don’t think Dr Dottie has much time for me.”
“She doesn’t have time for any of us,” Taylor reassured her.
“She said something strange.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, she said we’ll find out soon enough whether your family love each other really. What do you think that means?”
“Who knows?” Taylor shrugged.
“It doesn’t make you curious?”
Taylor took a deep breath. “Look, Connie. Dottie has as little to do with the family as I do. She gets out of every get together she can. Zeb swears that she arranges her on call rota so she can never join in with things. She’s not interested in them. And I can’t blame her - you’ve seen what they’re like now. But if anything was going to happen in this family, to this family, she’d be the last to know. She was messing with you.” He leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Trust me.”
She burrowed into the safety of his words. She knew he was right. She was just spooked by the strangeness of the family dynamics she had been thrust into. Soon, she’d be home with Taylor and the babies and she’d laugh about how normal he was when his family were all mad.
And yet she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was wrong.
12
It was less than an hour until midnight and people seemed to have tired themselves with all of the arguing. Eliza had been dozing on and off in her wheelchair and each time she jolted awake she grabbed her handbag to make sure it was still there, on her lap.
“What does she keep in there?” Connie asked Taylor at one point. The bag itself was battered, the fake leather on the straps had peeled in places and the pale material had several patches stained with what looked like tea.
“Her life savings and all her best jewellery,” Taylor w
hispered.
Connie laughed. He didn’t.
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “She was mugged once, when I was a child. We’d all gone out for the day to a Christmas market. A thief reached into her bag and took her purse. She had at least a thousand dollars in there. Dad went mad, made her promise to stop carrying so much money around.”
“She didn’t listen?”
“Of course she didn’t. Nobody separates Eliza Thompson from her valuables.”
“Well…” Connie began.
“I know, the thief did. You try getting that through to her, though!”
“Erm, no thanks,” Connie shook her head. She had no interest in beginning that conversation with Eliza.
Zeb let out a belter of a yawn from across the room.
Connie hadn’t seen Dottie since she’d slipped out of the dessert line, and Lottie was still in bed with her migraine, but all of the other adults were there, nobody prepared to call it a night before they had seen the New Year in.
“Luke?” Bobby called. He sat closest to Eliza. Luke was across the room, on the floor with his back against the sofa. “Why don’t you go and fetch the guitar? We can have a bit of a sing-song until midnight.”
“Sure,” Luke said. His smile was easy, and he pushed himself up off the floor and bounded up the stairs.
“Did you have to?” Christopher asked, once he’d gone.
“Hey!” Daisy protested, ever the defensive wife.
“My wife’s in bed with a migraine,” he explained. “Nothing against Luke at all, Daisy.”
“Oh,” Daisy relaxed. “We don’t have to get too noisy.”
“Just a few songs!” Bobby suggested.
Luke reappeared, guitar in hand. “Any requests?”
“How about your new single, babe?” Daisy suggested.
“How about one we all know?” Rose snapped.
Luke began strumming away. Connie tapped her foot and when Luke began to sing, she was the first to join in. Others followed, and to her surprise everyone but Eliza was singing by the time they’d finished the first verse.
“I’ll just go to the little boys’ room,” Bobby said with an apologetic smile.
“He suggests it and then leaves? Typical,” Christopher grumbled, but by the time Bobby had left the room, he had continued joining in with the words.