“She’s already met the fellow?”
“So she said. The young man’s name is Bob. He’s studying to be an accountant.”
“Oh my.” Peg held back a chuckle. “He sounds deathly dull. What do we know about Melanie? Is she deathly dull too? Maybe they’re a good match.”
“I barely know anything more about her than you do. But I’m sure we’ll find out tomorrow.”
“I can hardly wait,” said Peg.
She loved her husband. She truly did. That was why she waited until Max had looked away before rolling her eyes.
Salute stayed home.
There was no point in starting off the holiday visit on the wrong foot, Peg decided. And if taking the big Poodle along was going to upset Eileen, well . . . based on past experience with both her in-laws and her Standard Poodles, Peg was sure that her dog’s easygoing temperament left him better equipped to deal with adversity than Eileen’s uptight disposition ever would.
Peg bid the Poodles good-bye, gathered up her pies, and joined Max in the car for the twenty-minute drive to New Canaan. The grim smile on her husband’s face looked every bit as forced as her own faux-merry demeanor. Before leaving the house, she’d stopped to pin a blinking Christmas tree brooch on the front of her dress. With luck, the tiny flashing lights might liven up the visit. Or at least give them all a good laugh, Peg thought.
One could only hope. Somehow laughter seemed like something that might be in short supply during the hours to come.
The trip eastward on the Merritt Parkway passed all too quickly. New Canaan was quiet on Christmas afternoon. It didn’t take long to cut through the quaint town before heading north on Oenoke Ridge Road.
Max’s brother’s family lived in a lovely colonial home, set back from the road behind a stand of mature trees. The property was bordered by a low stone wall whose tidy appearance was reinforced by the neatly kept lawn. There wasn’t a leaf or twig out of place.
The substantial, two-story house was painted dove gray and had dark green shutters. An electric candle flickered in each upstairs window. A double door, each side decorated with an ornate wreath, marked the front entrance. Low bushes on either side of the wide front steps had been covered with fairy lights. On approach, the entire vista looked festive and wonderfully inviting.
And, Peg thought, expensive.
“How do you suppose Michael continues to afford this place?” she asked curiously.
Max just shrugged. He steered the car to a parking area near the garage. “He and Eileen have lived here forever. They bought this house before the kids were born. Maybe he was flush back then. Or maybe it’s mortgaged to the rafters. I’m certainly not going to ask.”
Max was reaching for the door handle. He paused and sent his wife a meaningful look. “And neither are you.”
Peg lifted a brow but didn’t reply. Instead she busied herself with gathering up the desserts. She wasn’t going to argue with Max. Not today of all days. But it was going to be an even longer afternoon than she’d envisioned if she had to spend the entire time watching what she said.
His own arms filled with presents, Max rang the front doorbell. He and Peg waited. After a minute, he rang the bell again.
“Do you suppose they’ve changed their minds about us?” Peg asked hopefully.
“I doubt it.” Max freed up a hand and pushed the buzzer again.
This time, the chimes that sounded within the house brought a response. One half of the front door swept open. A young girl dressed in blue jeans and a holiday sweater peered out at them uncertainly.
She had to be Melanie, Peg thought with only the barest glimmer of recognition. Goodness, how many years had it been?
Max had said the girl was in college. If so, she looked young for her age. She had a soft, unmolded quality about her, as if experience had yet to sharpen her into the adult she would someday become.
Without thinking about it, Peg squared her shoulders; her posture was always impeccable. She couldn’t help but notice that Melanie still stood a full head shorter than she did. Surely, Peg thought, the girl wasn’t finished growing yet?
“Merry Christmas!” Max greeted the girl in a booming voice. He’d obviously decided it was up to him to set the proper mood.
“Merry Christmas,” she parroted back, opening the door wide.
Max juggled the presents to one side and gathered Melanie into a hug. “I hope you were expecting us?”
“Yes, of course. Sorry about that! Everybody thought someone else got the door.” The burst of words came tumbling out in a rush. “Mom’s busy in the kitchen. Dad and Bob are watching football in the library. And Frank, well, you could spend all day waiting for him to do something useful. We didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Please come inside!”
Melanie eyed the stack of incoming presents with evident surprise before remembering her manners and turning to Peg. “Aunt Peg?” The greeting came out sounding more like a question. “How lovely to see you again. Let me take your coat. Mom will be delighted to see those pies. Did you bake them yourself?”
“Yes, I did,” Peg lied blithely. The pies had come from St. Moritz, the best bakery in Greenwich. But if Melanie didn’t have the sense to notice the gold labels affixed to the top of the white boxes, she deserved to be misinformed.
Peg pulled off her coat and scarf and dumped them in Melanie’s arms. Max’s outerwear followed.
“Perhaps we could put these presents under the tree?” Max asked. Though they’d been invited into the house, they still seemed to be stuck standing just inside the front door.
Peg peered across the wide hallway into an expansive living room. Her Christmas tree at home was large, but it was dwarfed by the massive Scotch Pine that was the centerpiece of Michael and Eileen’s decorations. Dozens of glass ornaments glittered in the soft light. Gold bows fluttered from nearly every branch. A fussy-looking Christmas angel graced the top of the tree. She was so high in the air that her gold halo scraped the twelve-foot coffered ceiling.
How odd, Peg thought, that with the entire family at home, the living room with its beautiful tree was empty of people. Why go to all the trouble to put up lavish decorations for the holiday and then not enjoy looking at them?
“Presents?” came a voice from above. “Did I hear someone say there were presents?” A lanky teenage boy with angular features and long, dark bangs that hid his eyes came skipping down the steps.
“Of course that would get your attention, Frank.” He’d only just appeared, but Melanie already sounded exasperated by her brother. “Yes, Uncle Max and Aunt Peg brought us presents. Wasn’t that nice of them?”
“Let me help you with those.” Frank whisked the boxes out of Max’s arms and headed into the living room. “And by the way,” he called back over his shoulder, “Merry Christmas!”
“Same to you,” Peg replied. She hoped the boy would prove to be more interesting than his bland sister.
“Don’t just stand there, Mel,” said Frank. “Go fetch the parents. Do they even know that Uncle Max and Aunt Peg are here?”
“We do now.” Eileen appeared at the back of the hallway. Striding quickly toward them, Peg’s sister-in-law pulled off an apron she was wearing over her dress and tossed it over the banister. “Honestly, you two, where are your manners? How long have Max and Peg been standing here?”
Eileen wrapped her arms around Max and kissed him on each cheek. “Teenagers,” she said as she pulled away. “Other parents tell me they’ve survived this stage, but honestly I’m not sure it’s possible.”
She glanced at Peg as if she thought a handshake might be appropriate. Peg was having none of it. It was bad enough that she’d had to leave her Standard Poodle at home. She wasn’t about to let her sister-in-law treat her like an interloper at Christmas dinner too. When Eileen shifted her way, Peg stepped forward with her arms out. The two women came together in an awkward embrace.
“Michael?” Eileen called as she stepped back. “Max is here!”
/> “He and Bob are watching football,” said Melanie. “They probably can’t hear you.”
“Or they don’t want to,” Eileen muttered.
“I’ll go.” Melanie spun around and made a quick assessment of her looks in a mirror hanging on the side wall. Then she went scooting away.
Eileen looked after her and sighed. “Bob is Melanie’s boyfriend,” she said for Peg’s benefit. She didn’t sound particularly happy about that fact.
“So I heard,” Peg replied. “Max has been bringing me up to speed.”
“That’s good, then. You’ll know who everybody is.”
She should hope so, thought Peg. Considering that she’d been related to most of them for more than two decades.
A minute passed in silence as they waited. When nobody appeared, Eileen wound her arm though Max’s. “Maybe it would be easier if we went to join them,” she said.
Eileen led her brother-in-law away. Left to her own devices, Peg trailed along behind like a lost puppy. Her nephew, Frank, seemed to have vanished again, she noted. So much for hoping for any entertainment from him.
“Dinner is in an hour,” Eileen was saying. Her voice was high and chirpy. Peg wondered if it always sounded that way or if that was her holiday voice. “And of course you’ll want a drink beforehand. Some eggnog to celebrate the day? Or Scotch? Michael has an excellent bottle of Chivas in the library. If you ask nicely, he might be persuaded to share.”
Eileen laughed at her own joke. Max didn’t look as though he thought it was particularly funny, but after a moment, he joined in anyway.
“I’ll have eggnog,” Peg said to herself. “Not that anybody cares.”
“Of course you will,” Eileen replied.
Peg wondered what that comment meant. She didn’t dare ask.
The trio had nearly reached the library when Michael came striding through the open doorway. Peg hadn’t seen her brother-in-law since Nana’s funeral; the impression she’d had of him then still remained. Michael was a slightly shorter, slightly grayer version of Max. Both men had the same broad shoulders and long torsos. They both had kind eyes and smiled readily—at least when they weren’t talking to one another.
“Merry Christmas, Michael,” Peg said firmly, as if by stating the greeting she could make it true. Rather than stepping forward herself, she applied both hands to Max’s back and propelled him toward his older brother.
Both wives watched with satisfaction as the two men shook hands.
“Merry Christmas, indeed,” Michael replied heartily. “It was good of you to come.”
“An invitation to a family gathering?” said Max. “Peg and I wouldn’t have missed it. And this must be Melanie’s friend, Bob?”
A young man was standing behind Michael, lingering just inside the room. Peg realized with a guilty start that she hadn’t even noticed him until Max pointed him out. Usually her powers of observation were better than that. On the other hand, now that she was paying attention and had a look, there wasn’t much to see. Everything about boyfriend Bob appeared to be perfectly ordinary. He struck her as the kind of average individual who would have gone unnoticed in a crowd of two.
At least he had some manners, however. Bob slipped around Michael and extended his hand. “Bob Travis,” he said to Max. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Melanie hasn’t told me much about her family.”
Peg snorted under her breath. She could well imagine why not.
Then Bob was turning her way and repeating his name for her benefit as though she could possibly have missed hearing it the first time. “What a lovely brooch, ma’am,” he said as they shook hands.
Ma’am indeed, thought Peg. Just how old did he think she was? Not only that, but the brooch wasn’t lovely at all. It was a novelty knickknack, quite possibly the tackiest piece of jewelry she’d ever owned. It had been intended as a source of entertainment, not admiration.
The other three adults had continued their conversation. Bob, Peg realized, was still peering at the brooch intently. Perhaps, like a kitten, he was mesmerized by flashing lights.
“That’s quite a lot of blinking,” he said after a minute.
“It squirts water, too,” Peg retorted.
“Really?” Bob leaned in for a closer look.
What an idiot, she thought. If the silly ornament really did squirt water, it would have gotten him squarely in the nose.
“No, not really,” Peg said acerbically. “It was a joke.”
“Oh, I see.” Bob straightened and stepped back. “Humor.” He made the word sound like a foreign concept.
Melanie came over to stand beside her boyfriend. “That’s Aunt Peg. She’s always joking around.”
As if the girl had the faintest idea what she was likely to do, Peg thought with a sniff. She couldn’t even remember the last time they’d seen one another. Honestly! This was like being surrounded by a pack of baboons. Peg could only hope that dinner was on the way. And that it would arrive sooner rather than later.
And then, of course, there would be pie.
That was a pleasant thought. Perhaps the first one of the day.
Peg tuned back into the adult conversation to discover that Eileen was in the process of taking drink orders and getting everyone organized. The plan taking shape seemed to imply that copious alcohol consumption would be expected to play a role in making the family occasion proceed more smoothly. Michael and the guests were to watch football in the library while Eileen and Melanie put the finishing touches on dinner. Peg offered to help out in the kitchen, a proposal that was politely but firmly rebuffed.
By the time dinner reached the table an hour later, Peg was working on a happy buzz. Unexpectedly, the eggnog had packed a potent punch. All four men had spent the intervening time staring fervently at the television in the library. Peg thought their attention level would have been more appropriate to the viewing of life-and-death combat rather than a mildly interesting bowl game.
But at least that kept them from having to converse with one another, she realized. As long as all eyes were centered on the sporting event, everyone could pretend that they were getting along. Bored with that activity, Peg had passed the time browsing through the bookshelves in the room. She was delighted to discover an antique book of maps that had proven to be fascinating reading.
It wasn’t until Melanie came to tell them that dinner was on the table and the men stood up to go trooping into the dining room that Peg noticed that Michael was seriously tipsy. When her brother-in-law rose from his seat, lost his balance, then sat down again quickly, Peg caught Max’s eye and raised a brow. He gave his head a small shake.
Yet another thing they weren’t meant to talk about. Peg swallowed a small sigh. Her lips were going to be seriously sore by the end of the day if she had to spend the entire visit biting back comments that couldn’t be made.
Frank and Bob, still talking about the game, went on ahead. When they’d gone, Peg leaned down and offered a steady arm to her brother-in-law. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to escort me in to dinner?”
“I would be delighted, Peg. “ Michael looked inordinately pleased as he levered himself up a second time. He glanced at Max with a sly wink. “Little brother, it seems your wife has indicated a preference. I’m afraid that means you’re on your own.”
“I think I can manage to find my way,” Max replied imperturbably. “Maybe I’ll just follow my nose. As I recall, Eileen is a wonderful cook. I’m sure she’s prepared a feast for us today.”
When they reached the dining room, Peg saw that Max hadn’t been exaggerating. The meal that greeted them was indeed a feast. An enormous roast turkey held pride of place at the head of a wide mahogany table. An assortment of bowls and tureens held more side items than she’d ever seen assembled for a single meal. The first bottle of wine was open and ready to be poured.
They all found their places at the table. Brandishing a large knife and relishing his role as the center of attention, Michael managed to carve the
bird without mishap. Plates were passed and helpings served. A round of wine was poured, followed by a second.
As the courses were served and cleared, conversation around the table ebbed and flowed. Happily occupied with the delicious food, Peg found that she was quite content to act as observer rather than participant in much of the family byplay. It didn’t take her long to realize that the younger generation was more interesting to her than their parents. She’d known Michael and Eileen for years—perhaps not well, but certainly well enough. Melanie and Frank, however, were unknown territory. That was enough to make her curious.
Melanie appeared to be rather besotted with Bob, Peg mused. She hung on his every word, offered him the choicest morsels from each side dish, and leapt to refill his wineglass long before it was empty. Watching the pair interact, Peg was at a loss to understand what it was about the young man that merited such ardent attention. Bob certainly didn’t seem to be anything special. Not only that, but his conversation consisted mostly of football scores and college anecdotes about people no one else knew.
Young love, thought Peg. What a crock.
She frowned and turned her attention to Frank. Surely, of the two siblings, he had to be the more appealing—if only for the fact that he didn’t look as though he felt any happier to have been roped into this family gathering than she was.
“How old are you, Frank?” Peg asked across the table.
“Eighteen. I’m a senior in high school.” For some reason, he sounded quite proud of that fact.
“So then you must be looking at colleges.”
“Well . . . sort of.”
Despite the fact that her attention was focused on the teenage boy, Peg couldn’t help but notice the pained look that passed between his parents. “Sort of?” she inquired. “Isn’t it time for you to be filling out applications?”
Frank speared a piece of turkey and put it in his mouth. He finished chewing, then swallowed, before replying. “I’m not sure I’m really cut out for college,” he said finally. “I figured I’d take a gap year to think about what I really want to do.”
A Christmas Howl Page 2