Gabe’s smile had a hint of a threat. “Yes, thank you, sweetheart.”
“Lizzie?” Maddie widened her eyes.
I waved no, adding, “I’m good, thanks.”
“Right. Shrimp is too exotic for the likes of you.” She sashayed to the other side of the room.
“I just don’t want to ruin my appetite for dinner,” I muttered to her back.
She waggled her fingers as if saying, “Yeah, yeah.”
She made her rounds in the living room, and only Casey, who had returned with Rose and everyone else twenty minutes earlier, and I passed on the shrimp. Sarah, though, was in the kitchen, so maybe she hadn’t eaten any.
Gabe’s laughter forced me out of my head, and I gathered I’d mentally checked out of the conversation. All I wanted was for everyone to leave. Casually, I consulted my watch to see how long I had disappeared inside my head, a habit of mine when stressed, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked at a clock. I’d probably drifted away longer than I’d realized. I waited for an appropriate time to say, “Excuse me. I’m going to see if Sarah needs any help.”
Casey tailed me, slipping her hand in mine. “Do you think Daddy is with Mommy yet?”
I peered down at her. “Not yet. His flight has landed, and he’s with your uncle. Soon, your parents will be together. Do you miss them?”
She motioned for me to lift her onto the counter. “I don’t want them to get divorced.”
Sarah, standing in front of the stove, met my eyes.
“I don’t either,” I said.
“Do you think they will? Can I have some of those onion things?” Casey asked, pointing at the container.
“Of course, sweetie.” Sarah scooped out a small handful of fried French’s onions, placing them into Casey’s palm.
“Thanks. Do you?” Casey directed the question to me.
I hadn’t been able to put my finger on why Casey always talked to me so directly about things that Sarah handled better than I did. I sat on the barstool, facing Casey. “I know your mom and dad love each other very much.”
She chewed one of the onions, contemplating this. “Do people who love each other ever divorce?”
How would I know? “That’s a good question.”
“You always say that when you don’t know the answer.”
I laughed. “Do I?”
“Have you talked to your mom or dad, Casey?” Sarah swooped in.
She shook her head. “They like to think I don’t know what’s going on.”
I laughed again. “You are more perceptive than most adults I know.”
“They shouldn’t have adopted me.” She popped another onion into her mouth, not showing any emotion.
I blinked, and Sarah dropped the large metal stirring spoon into the silver bowl.
“Casey,” I started, unsure how to proceed. “That just isn’t true. You should never think that.”
“They can’t afford me. I get that.” She lifted a shoulder. “Daddy hides in his office a lot, trying to figure out how to pay for things. I shouldn’t have mentioned cancelling Netflix yesterday. That hurt him.”
Sarah circled the island and took the seat next to mine to face Casey. “Sweetheart, you are taking on too much. Neither of your parents would want you to think any of these things.”
Casey tilted her head. “But I can’t stop thinking them when everything is so obvious. I wish Mommy wouldn’t talk so much about me having a sibling. I don’t need one. I have the twinks and…” She pointed to Sarah’s belly as if Sarah were already pregnant. “Even Demi. She’s going to be like me.”
Baffled, I asked, “How do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Observant. Her eyes never stop.”
I hadn’t noticed that, but I trusted the little brainiac.
“Tie isn’t a good mother,” Casey continued. “I’m glad she left.”
Maddie entered, setting the tray and empty shrimp bowl onto the counter. “How are things going in here?”
Gabe, hot on her heels, rushed to the kitchen sink and vomited.
That about summed up everything.
“What the?” Maddie, behind him, patted his back. “Are you okay?”
Gabe tossed chunks again. With his head hanging down over the sink basin, he said, “It just hit me. I’m—” He puked again. “Peter’s in the downstairs bathroom.”
“Peter’s vomiting?” Sarah left, not waiting for an answer.
“Everyone,” Gabe managed before the next bout.
“Everyone?” Maddie asked. She turned to me. “The shrimp?”
“Who didn’t eat it?”
“You, Casey, Sarah, and me.”
The thought of seven adults with food poisoning chilled me to the bone.
Where was everyone puking?
“Oh, God. We only have three bathrooms.”
Maddie reached into the bottom cabinet where we kept the pots and pans, yanking out one massive pot and two saucepans. “You remember when you made fun of Sarah for buying a pot large enough to cook a lobster?”
“We’re landlocked!”
She handed it to me. “It’s coming in handy now.”
Allen lay on one of the sofas in the living room.
“You okay, little brother?”
He groaned.
“Where are Dad and Helen?”
He pointed upstairs.
“What can I do for you?”
“It hurts.”
“What?”
“My stomach.” He bolted up and out the front door.
“That’s one solution. Can everyone puke in the snow? Would the runoff get rid of the chunks?” I posed to Maddie.
“These saucepans won’t hold much.” She held them up to emphasize their smallness, aside from the lobster one.
“Whose idea was the shrimp? No one should ever serve seafood in a landlocked state on Christmas.”
“Too late for that rule. Would it be rude for us to slip out with the kids and go to Rose’s? In reality, what can we do for everyone?”
She made a good point.
There was a crashing sound upstairs.
“Good Lord, what now?” I ran up the stairs.
Troy was in the guest bathroom, the flower arrangement on the toilet had been knocked into the bathtub. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it. Where’s Rose?”
“On the bed.”
Still gripping the lobster pot, I went to her.
Rose huddled in the fetal position on the bed, looking as if she was on board a tiny boat in the roughest of seas.
“You might want this.” I set the pot on the bed next to her. “Do you need anything?”
“Sarah.” She lurched up and reached for the pot.
“Righty-O.” I scrammed before seeing my mother-in-law hurl, because really, we weren’t blood related, and I wouldn’t have stayed even if she was my birth mom.
Downstairs, I directed Sarah to her mother.
Maddie and I met in the entryway as I was on my way to check on Allen and Gabe. “Where are you heading?” I asked.
“Charles and Helen. I hear they’re in your room.”
“My bedroom? The one I share with Sarah?”
“Unless you have a secret bedroom I don’t know about, yes.”
First my library. Now my bedroom. We hadn’t changed the sheets after having sex this morning. And my father and stepmom—nope, can’t go there. Not when we were at Defcon Four.
“Where’s Peter?” I asked.
“Outside with Allen and Gabe.”
“Awesome. Can we lock the door on them? I’m officially done with Christmas.” I slapped my hands together as if brushing all this off.
“It’s an idea. Is there a possibility we’d be charged with murder or some lesser crime if they froze to death?”
“Not if we all stick to the story of we didn’t know they were outside.”
“Not sure the authorities will believe I didn’t take part in plotting to kil
l my ex-fiancé and current.” She closed her eyes. “That’s weird when I say it aloud, isn’t it?”
“This entire family is fucking batshit crazy. This Christmas is making that more than obvious with each passing second.” I left her and checked on the men on the back deck, relieved they’d moved there and not the front porch for all the neighbors to see.
The three of them stood in a row, puking on the tallest mound of snow. I think there were Christmas decorations underneath, which would be promptly tossed as soon as the melt occurred.
None of them had jackets on, but their sweaty faces testified they weren’t feeling the cold.
“Okay, gents. Tell me what you need?”
“To die,” Allen said.
“Not on my watch. At least not on Christmas. Sarah would never forgive me.”
Gabe started to laugh, which turned into retching. “The things we do for love.”
“I think not killing family members on a major holiday is the goal of most.”
“You seem to be failing at the moment,” Peter deadpanned.
We all laughed.
Then they vomited.
“I think that’s my cue to check on the folks inside. Can I convince any of you to come back in the house? We have a tarp in the garage. I can set you up in the living room.”
They waved me away.
Sarah was in the kitchen, gathering cleaning supplies.
Casey was in the family room, watching the cartoon version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas with the kiddos. She was a bit young for babysitting, but it was all hands on deck.
“What do I need to do?” I asked.
“Go back in time and knock me in the head when I suggested having everyone over for Christmas.”
“If I’d known that was an option, I would have considered. It’s like a plague has descended on our house. We may have to burn it down and start all over again.”
She stood close. “Did you know your father is in our bed?”
“Please. I’ve been trying to block out that tidbit since I heard. When was the last time we changed the sheets?”
“What are you two talking about?” Maddie asked.
“Sheets. We need to get sheets on all the couches. Get everyone settled. They can’t keep puking, can they?” Sarah answered. “We don’t have any Gatorade.”
“What? You didn’t foresee this turn of events and plan for it?” Maddie mocked. “Who’s going to be the bigger baby out of the men? Rose and Helen, who have given birth, will be tough.”
“It has a way of toughening up women.” Sarah placed a hand on my shoulder. “Thank goodness you didn’t have any shrimp. You can be a bit—”
“Please. I’m the toughest.”
“Fine. You carry our next child.” Sarah crossed her arms.
“But… I work.”
She darted her eyes. “That’s what I thought. Can you run to… is 7-Eleven still open?” She wheeled around to Maddie, who shrugged. “Hopefully, they are. We’ll need lots and lots of Gatorade.” She instructed Maddie, “Let’s put Gabe and Allen in the library. Peter in the living room. Mom, Troy, Charles, and Helen are settled.” She made a chop-chop motion, and we set up the Petrie Christmas triage.
Chapter Fifteen
“Oh, wow. That was hell.” Maddie collapsed on the couch in the family room. “This may go down as the worse Christmas in history.”
Sarah nodded. “The good news is it may have cured me of wanting to throw these bashes. Honestly, I don’t know if I want to see any of them ever again.”
Casey, leaning against Sarah, said, “I had the best job. How much did I earn for babysitting?”
I was about to argue, but Sarah cut me off. “Ten an hour.”
Casey quickly said, “Fifty bucks. Awesome.”
Christmas was usually an expensive time of year, but this one was racking up quite the fee with the gifts, bribes, and now babysitting fees.
“We’ll need you to sit again tomorrow. Everyone is going to be pretty weak after all this.”
I groaned. “Really? Can’t they go home yet? The roads are clear.”
“We’ll see. Mom and Troy can probably make it, but I’m not sure I want them on their own. Not after we poisoned them.”
The shrimp hadn’t been my idea. I only liked it thoroughly cooked, fried, and doused in some Asian sauce. And even then, I had to be in the mood, which was rare.
“Where are we going to sleep?” Casey yawned.
“Do you want to camp in the nursery? We can set up cushions and blankets.” Sarah held her close.
“Can I do that in here? Stay with you guys?” The usually confident Casey morphed into the little girl she was.
“Of course, you can.” I hopped off the couch. “Let’s steal the cushions from the living room to make you a pillow fortress. We can even steal Uncle Peter’s out from under him if he’s sound asleep.”
“That wouldn’t be very nice. He’s sick.”
“Right. I’ll try to refrain.”
She cocked her head. “Did you two always hate each other?”
We left Sarah and Maddie in the family room to scavenge.
“That’s a—”
“Good question. Got it. You haven’t figured out your relationship with Uncle Peter yet.”
“I’m not sure that’s the case. We didn’t have great childhoods. It took a toll on each of us in different ways.”
Her little face peered up at mine. “Are any families perfect?”
“No. Perfection is a mirage. Chasing it only wears you out.”
Peter slept facing the back of the couch, his breathing deep, his pallor still sickly white.
Casey placed a finger to her lips. She removed one cushion from the vacant sofa, and I grabbed the remaining two.
“We need blankets.”
I nodded. Sarah’s shopping habit was coming in handy today. The lobster pot. A plethora of sheets and blankets. And God knows what else we’d used since the poisoning. Thank goodness George had left before the shrimp was served.
The four of us built a rather impressive makeshift tent resembling something I imagined Ernest Hemmingway stayed in while hunting kudu in Africa.
Casey clambered under the top sheet with my Kindle Fire and headphones to watch cartoons or probably a documentary that would go over my head. Soon enough, we heard her softly snoring.
Sarah and I snuggled on the leather sofa, and Maddie settled in the chair, her legs pulled up underneath her.
“I have to say, Sarah, as far as holidays go, you went out of your way to make this the most memorable.”
I froze on the couch, but Sarah burst into laughter. “Oh, God. Anything and everything that could go wrong did.”
“It did,” Maddie agreed. “And it didn’t.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Setting the shrimp poisoning aside”—she pretended to stick a pin in it—“Ethan arrived in the nick of time to be with Lisa on one of the worst days of her life. That has to mean something to her. And it was Lizzie, here, who made sure that happened.” Maddie feigned an I can’t believe I said that expression.
“Poor Lisa. To lose her mom on Christmas.” Sarah snuggled further into my arms.
Maddie grew thoughtful for a moment. “Gabe asked me to marry him.”
“Does it count when he’s holding you hostage?” I asked, wondering if that portended anything.
She laughed. “You’ve been Sarah’s hostage for years.”
“From the first moment I stared into her eyes.” I kissed the top of Sarah’s head.
“Geez, Lizzie. You’re making it harder and harder every day to treat you like a moron.”
“Oh, sorry. I’ll try to fix that. I really don’t need the two of you expecting things from me. Ever.”
Sarah needled me with her elbow. “It’s too late. I figured out your act pretty quickly.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” I asked.
“It’s cute, and I may be a glutton for punishment.”<
br />
“Hence the desire to plan a Petrie Christmas extravaganza.”
“Mark my words; this is the last.”
Maddie and I locked eyes. “Can you repeat that?” She whipped out her phone. “I want to record it.”
“I’m not that bad.”
Both Maddie and I grew eerily quiet.
“Am I that bad?”
I held out a finger and thumb with barely a space between them.
She drilled her elbow further into my gut.
“There’s another Petrie situation, and I haven’t decided if it’s for the best or not.” Maddie pressed on.
“Tie,” Sarah said.
“Tie,” Maddie repeated.
“How can it be bad? She and Peter were miserable. Unfortunately, it means I lost the bet.”
Sarah laughed. “I’d forgotten about the divorce bet. What’d we wager?”
I whispered in her ear, fibbing, “You have to sit on my face.”
She laughed harder. “Not tonight.”
“Ew! No sex talk!” Maddie covered her ears.
I glanced to ensure Casey was still in dreamworld.
Maddie mouthed sorry.
“I fear what Tie is plotting right at this moment.” Sarah shivered. “The woman isn’t done. Not by a long shot.”
“Let’s hope Charles and his lawyers are on it. Surely he made a few calls before nearly dying.”
“How do you feel about Peter?” Sarah asked.
Maddie started to speak but took an extra tick before saying, “It’s weird. There was always a part of me that wondered what he would have been like if he wasn’t a Petrie. Not raised to believe cheating was okay. And then there’s his dedication to work, another annoying Petrie trait.” She glared at me, another workaholic. “But, with Gabe, it’s nice—easy even. He can be a little smarmy when it comes to business, but I think that’s more an act to cover his insecurity. I don’t think he’s as insecure as Peter. I think that’s the difference.”
I had no idea how to respond to this revelation.
“It’s funny. Even though this family is insane on all fronts, since meeting the Petries, I’ve felt like I belonged. Marrying Gabe seems so natural.”
“Natural and Petries. Careful, Maddie. Those two don’t go together,” I said.
“Surely Gabe won’t be as insane. He’s not a true Petrie after all.” Maddie’s confident expression wavered some.
A Woman Loved Page 18