by Lucy Hepburn
“No again.” Annie’s voice had leveled, if anything. It was low and certain. “The only reason you are in a mess today is because you don’t let anybody step up and take care of their own messes.”
Christy was being studiously ignored now by everyone in the salon. Around her people were chatting away almost normally, but anyone analyzing the situation would be able to see that the voices were a little shrill, the mannerisms a little forced. Everyone, including her mom, was studiously attempting to ignore the shouty, flustered young woman by the door.
Even Toni had moved away, though he had gravitated toward the only free chair in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, had sat down, and was tilting his head from side to side, adjusting his nearly black hair with his hands. Within seconds, he had been joined by a young, pretty stylist, and then a second, and a third, and they began playing with his hair, flirting and laughing and suggesting ways he might like to make changes here and there.
“So, after I realized it was you on the phone to Will, I talked him into letting me have the phone, just to see if I could get you to go see Mom. You were in the area anyhow, and at least it’d be one visit you couldn’t cancel or change at the last minute or cut short because you got a call from a client—because your phone’s here! In my hand!”
“I so do not do that to Mom!” Christy was outraged.
“Christy, you do.”
“Look, maybe once, or twice, lately, but that’s not usual. It’s just that my business is getting busier all the time.”
It sounded feeble, and she knew it. But she wasn’t ready to back down on this one. Not yet.
“Christy, it’s time you woke up and smelled the coffee.”
“Annie,” she shot back, “have you any idea how many times I’ve wanted to say that very same thing to you? You just fly around in your own—”
“Mom was in the hospital last week, did you know that?”
“What?” Christy wobbled, wondering if she’d heard right. Hospital? Nobody had mentioned hospital to her lately…she slumped down onto the black leather sofa at the window. Her legs seemed to have given way. Her voice, when it came out, had dropped almost to a whisper, and she was holding the phone so close to her ear that it hurt. “What did you say?”
“I think you heard me.”
Glancing over at her mother, who was still trying to ignore her overwrought daughter while being doused in hairspray by her stylist, Christy noticed that yes, her face was indeed very pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes.
“Mom had a procedure in the hospital last week,” Annie said, gently this time, “just a little keyhole thing to get rid of a cyst.”
“Oh.”
“She’s fine, but it was traumatic for her at the time.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Is she okay?” It was weird talking to Annie about her mother when her mother sat just a few feet away, but Christy could no sooner get up to go over to her than fly to the moon. “I mean, it’s not—”
“She’s fine, Christy. Truly. It’s all over.”
“She didn’t say,” Christy said faintly.
“I know!” The faintest note of triumph had crept into her sister’s voice, though it had grown a little more gentle. “Of course she didn’t say! And I’m sorry that I told you like that, but she told me you were far too busy to worry about a little thing like a minor procedure—she made me not tell you.”
“I could have helped.”
“Christy, enough already. Maybe Mom was trying to protect you—at least, that’s what she said she was doing. But the way I see it, and try not to take this the wrong way, maybe she just wasn’t up to the sort of ‘help’ you’d be likely to come up with. She needed peace and quiet, not a watertight care schedule, arranged from the other end of a phone line.”
There was no response to that. Christy had had no idea, no idea whatsoever, that she had ever been anything other than the busy, helpful, successful younger daughter in the family set-up. Now she was being painted as some kind of uncaring dictator. And the more she argued, the more Annie seemed to think she had proved her point.
Had she?
A tear escaped and fell down her cheek. Christy quickly wiped it away, then cleared her throat. “Well, Annie, I’m here now.” And then, before her big sister could snap something about only being there because she had been sent there, she added calmly, “looks like me and Mom have got some catching up to do. I’m horrified, Nina, that I never knew about the surgery.”
“Okay, kiddo,” Nina said gently. “I hear that. Say, you know something?”
“I doubt it.”
“This is the longest conversation we’ve had for years!”
“Some conversation,” Christy deadpanned. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally. She wiped away a second tear, thankful that her mother was still having the finishing touches put to her hair and Toni was almost invisible beneath a noisy group of young stylists who were all working with him on an alternative look. She rubbed her forehead. “You’re going to have to tell me about Will, Annie. I feel like the butt of some huge private joke right now.”
“He’s quite a guy!”
“Huh.” Christy wasn’t sure anymore.
“He showed up at Carl’s, something about his grandfather’s house, and they had a fight, but anyhow, I’m meant to be getting him back to Manhattan, though I’ve been kind of busy with the party. But he’s been really good about it, but do you know, that’s because he’s been so busy on the phone to this mystery girl! He’s certainly been giving you his—how should I put it?—undivided attention all day! He’s barely been a millimeter away from that phone all day. I had no idea whatsoever that it was you all along! It’s insane!”
“You didn’t?” Christy said suspiciously. “You sure?”
“No! It was pure coincidence! Or fate—hey, that’s a far better word—fate!”
“Say, Christy!” Toni stood up from the throng of eager stylists and adopted yet another devastating pose. His hair had been gelled or waxed so that it stood high on his head, emphasizing his glorious cheekbones and taut physique.
Christy, too numb to summon up any enthusiasm, gave him a tired thumbs-up.
“I’ve just asked Will to go to Newark with his dad to pick up the papers. They’re just about to leave. The papers are in your purse with you right now, is that right?”
“The papers?” Christy echoed. It took a moment to remember Will’s contracts that she’d picked up for him at the lawyer’s office. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “Yeah, sure, they’re in my purse.”
“Oh, well, I guess now that you’re all friends, you’ll be able to fix something up. You’ve got the phone number, after all!”
There she was, back to being the same old, infuriating Annie. Christy wanted to say something cutting, something to let her know that just because Annie had hit a nerve by pointing out her control-freak tendencies, there was no way she was going to get out of taking some of the responsibility for the shambles that the day had turned out to be.
But she was too slow.
“Anyways, at least now you’ll be able to spend some quality time with Mom! Enjoy!”
And Annie was gone.
Chapter Twenty
CHRISTY
6:15 p.m.
6:30 p.m. Meet (Real) Antonio at Newark Airport – running late.
6:30 p.m. Meet Mr. Simpson at Clint’s – running late and need clone.
7:15 p.m. Pick up Mrs. Dallaglio’s dry cleaning – again.
Finally Laura Davies’s stylist deemed her voluminous new hairstyle worthy of being let loose upon an unsuspecting New York City.
“Perfect!” he breathed, helping Christy’s mom to her feet and blowing on her neck to remove the last traces of stray hair. “Just perfect!”
At that moment, one of the other stylists approached Christy with a request.
“Ca
n you wait awhile, please? Your friend, Toni, has agreed to be photographed for our promotional website once we’ve finished with his hair.”
Christy was anxious to get out of there. But first she had to talk to her mother, find out just how much resentment she’d built up toward her control-freakery. And heaven knew Toni needed to be cut some slack. He’d spent the whole day helping her out, and right now, being primped and styled by four girls, he was in his element.
“Sure,” she smiled. “He’s a supermodel in Eastern Europe, you know.”
The stylist gave her a cocky look. “I knew that,” she announced proudly. “I follow what’s going on in the fashion trade very closely—Toni Benetti can really cut it in underwear shots!”
“He can?” Christy allowed a sneaky image to creep into her brain. “Well, I’m going to have to take your word for it!”
“Christy, that was quite a showing-up you just gave me.”
Her mother did not sound angry. Quite the opposite. She kissed her daughter tenderly, then enfolded her in a hug that very nearly made Christy dissolve into proper childlike tears.
“Sorry, Mom. Annie and I have just been getting a couple of things off our chests.”
“It’s okay. It was probably coming.”
Christy drew back in surprise. “You think?”
“I do. You’re both so different, and you’re both under a lot of pressure right now.”
“Mom, I didn’t know about your surgery—I’m so sorry!”
“Don’t be.” Her mother waved the apology away. “It was nothing.”
“But I should have been there for you!”
Her mother caught Christy’s arm and led her back over to the sofa by the window. They sat down, close together.
“Yes, I realize that now. If you or Annie had even the slightest thing wrong with you, I’d want to know about it, however busy I was. Annie and I were wrong keeping the information from you, sweetie, but we did it for the best reasons.”
“You sure?” Christy pressed. “It wasn’t because you knew I’d come in and order you around?”
“No! Of course not!”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, that’s something. And how are you now?”
“Me?” Her mother smiled brightly. “Absolutely fine. Completely fixed. Right as rain!”
“Mom?”
Her mother must have seen the doubt on her daughter’s face. “Well, I’m a little tired. The doctors warned me that even though the procedure was minor, it was still a trauma for the body to cope with, so I’m trying to take it easy for a couple of weeks. That’s it!”
“You promise?”
“I promise, Christy. No more secrets, okay?”
“Okay.”
“So, let’s talk about you.”
“Me?” Christy replied. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Okay, no, I’m not. Just having the day from hell, that’s all.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry I went on and on at you this morning about not having a date for the party tonight. Did it upset you?”
Christy looked blankly at her mother for a moment. “What? No! Don’t worry, Mom, not having a date for tonight is the least of my worries.”
Laura Davies glanced across at Toni and smiled wickedly. “So, is that beautiful young gentleman a figment of my imagination?”
Christy grinned. “That’s Toni. We met when…well, it’s a long story, but we’re just friends.”
“Pity! Want me to have a word with him for you?”
“Stop it!” she said, giving her mom a playful shove.
“Never!” Her mother teased. “I may have failed so far, but I’ll never stop!”
“No!” Christy covered her ears. “No more Terrys, or Hanks, or that guy who put the ‘ew’ in Matthew.”
“I didn’t know about his hygiene! I went on personal recommendation.”
“From his own mother! Big mistake, Mom.”
“Sam was nice.” Laura Davies clearly wasn’t ready to admit defeat.
“Sam was nice,” Christy agreed, “but he three-timed me with Becky Underhill and his own first cousin!”
“There was that,” her mother admitted. “I guess that isn’t the sort of detail you could be expected to just forgive and forget.”
“I’m fine on my own, Mom.” Immediately thoughts of Will sprang into her mind and she felt a pang of…what? Longing? Despite the scary connection to her family?
“Oh, sweetie, I’d like to believe that, and you need to know that I couldn’t be prouder of you and all you’ve achieved, but…” Her mom looked away, as if thinking better of saying what she was about to say.
“Speak, Mom.”
“I feel like I need to help you find a relationship.”
Christy took a moment to think about what her mother had said. It would have been simple to tell her not to be silly, but she knew from her mother’s face that she was troubled.
“What do you mean, Mom?”
“Your dad and I…” Laura began, then broke off, twisting her hands in her lap, searching for words. “Your dad and I…well, I loved him very, very much.”
“I know.” Christy reached out and clasped her mother’s hands.
“So when he left, well, I’d never known the true meaning of the word ‘devastated’ until that day. I knew things hadn’t been right for a long time, but I never thought he’d…leave.”
Christy winced. She remembered the day, too—the shouts, the tears, and the final, heartbreaking slam of the front door.
“But he did leave. I felt all my roots and beliefs had been ripped up and thrown in the trash. And after that, well, it took all of my strength just to get from one end of the day to the other, to feed and look after Annie and you…I was so angry, and hurt, and closed-in…”
“You did great, Mom,” Christy reassured her, once again blinking back tears.
“But I never taught you girls the skills of being in a successful relationship! You had no decent role model! And that haunts me, Christy, so when I see you on your own, however much I’m proud of you and your work, I feel like it’s my fault! And I need to fix you!”
Christy’s heart melted. “Oh, Mom! You mustn’t think like that! You did a great job!” But thinking on it now, her mom did have a point. She had been neglecting one part of her life. ”But listen, you’re right, I have been putting my love life second lately—I’ll work on it, okay?”
“Okay,” said her mom, clearly happy to hear it. “And I promise to stop interfering.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it!” replied Christy, and they hugged each other again tightly. There were no more words on the matter.
Toni was having his hair razored in the back by a girl with ‘senior stylist’ emblazoned upon the back of her black T-shirt, while the bevy of more junior stylists looking on approvingly. He was loving the attention, and Christy was happy for him.
“Right, now, tell me all about your day from hell,” Laura Davies said as they drew apart.
Christy shrugged. “Well, I was on my way to Newark to meet Antonio when I left my iPhone on the train.”
Her mother gasped. “You did? But that’s like an extra limb for you! How could you function without it?”
“I’m not that bad surely? Am I?”
Her mother’s raised eyebrows and doubtful face were all the answer she needed.
“Right, well, this guy picked it up…Will Thompson—”
“Not Carl Thompson’s son?”
Christy narrowed her eyes. “H…how the heck do you know him?”
“He’s Annie’s boss’s son!”
“Ye…es?”
“I met him this morning out at his grandfather’s place—there’s all sorts of stuff about his father signing some papers.”
Christy tapped her handbag. “I think I may have them right here,” she said dully then shook
her head. “I can hardly believe what I’m hearing!”
“Cute guy—charming as well. Runs his own business, I believe—just like you. He was a bit distracted, though. Like he had a lot on his mind today. He spent a lot of his time on the phone…oh…”
Christy nodded. “He’d have been talking to me.”
“Well, that is a bit freaky! I tried to hook him up with you.”
“You didn’t!” Christy was horrified. Her hands shot to the sides of her face. But then, what did she expect her mother to do.
“Don’t worry!” her mother laughed. “He was far too preoccupied to take any notice.”
“Oh.” She fought down a surge of disappointment, then got a grip on herself. “Anyhow, my schedule was full, but things went from bad to worse. First, I picked up the wrong Antonio from the airport.”
Both women looked slowly across at Toni.
“That’s quite a stunt to pull off, sweetie,” her mother said softly. “He could’ve been anyone.”
“He’s an Italian model, and luckily for me he’s one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met,” Christy reassured her. “I couldn’t have gotten through the day without him.”
“So why can’t you two get together?—”
“Mom!” Christy warned. “He’s my new friend. And he’s got nowhere to live while he sets himself up in New York.”
“Poor boy,” her mother said with feeling.
“I know. Anyhow, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong today. I was late to collect a client’s dog and she’d been locked in a closet—”
“The client?”
“No, the dog! And I had to collect a Persian rug from the cleaner’s, only she’d thrown up on it.”
“The client?” Laura joked.
“No, the dog.” Christy laughed. “My fault—so I’ve put it into a dry cleaner’s yet again, and it’ll need to be collected later, and I had to lie my way into a taxi—the driver thought I was pregnant and I kind of went along with it—”
“Christy Davies! For shame.”