* * *
After a short cab ride, farther uptown with her pies, Liv used her old key and made her way into her parents’ modest, but now quite valuable, three-bedroom Harlem apartment. Using her foot to balance the door, she picked up her shopping bag, took a deep breath and made her way in.
“Hello. Ma, Daddy, it’s me,” she called out, half hoping she wouldn’t get an answer and this whole shindig was some other night so she wouldn’t have to deal with people and her jumble of emotions all at the same time. But she knew that was ridiculous. Of course it was tonight. The date had been firm for months, and she could smell the aroma of her mother’s collard greens practically before the elevator doors opened on their floor.
“I’m in the kitchen!” Her mother’s voice sounded light and bouncy, though Liv could detect the slight undertone of pre-party anxiety below the surface.
After closing the door and locking it behind herself, Liv made her way down the short foyer, passing the living room with its new matching suite of couch, love seat, and coffee table, not to mention the show-stopper: the fabulous new recliner with the flip-out cup holders that was her father’s pride and joy. A joint retirement gift from Liv and her siblings, though to date both her brother and her sister still owed her most of their share for the chair. She shook her head and let out a sigh. What did it matter? Daddy was happy, and that was most important.
Turning a short corner, she looked into the long galley kitchen just in time to see her mother pulling a baked ham out of the oven. Really, a ham? She could have sworn there was some sort of rule about ham after Easter and before Fall. Glancing around, she could see that the counters were already full of food, not to mention every burner on the stovetop looked occupied. “Geez, Mom, think you’ve cooked enough food, or will we have to order out for reinforcements?” Liv said, teasingly.
Her mother, Anne Gale, gave her deep chestnut curls a shake as she slipped the pot holders off her hands and walked over to her daughter, leaning up to kiss her on her cheek. “Not today Miss Smarty-Pants. There is way too much to be done for me to listen to you trying to be cute. I still need the buffet table put out, the bar set up, and all the food arranged and laid out.” She let out a long exhale and looked around as if searching for something. “And Lord knows where my good tablecloth is. I could’ve sworn it was in the front hall closet, but then again it’s been lent out to Lynn so often . . . she may still have it.” She leveled Liv with a conspiratorial stare. “You and I both know she’s not the best when it comes to returning things.”
Liv walked deeper into the kitchen and went to place her pies out on a small breakfast table near the window. “You’re way too nice, Ma. I don’t know why you continue to lend her all your things when you know she’s not good at giving them back.”
“I know, honey, but she’s still my friend and my neighbor, so you know how that goes.”
Liv had no answer for that. Her mother was her mother, and she just couldn’t help being the giving type. All her life she had done for others, be it for Liv or her two younger siblings, Alexandrea and Elijah, or in her capacity as a teacher for the past thirty years. And though she was now retired, she still volunteered as an after-school literacy specialist three times a week. Just then, she could feel her mom coming up behind her and knew she was checking out the pies. “If you’re finished assessing, care to share your thoughts?” Liv asked as her mother lifted the tops off the plastic pie covers.
Her mother gave her shoulders a warm squeeze. “Oh, sweetie, all these pies look delicious. You’ve outdone yourself. They will be absolutely perfect. I know everyone is going to go crazy for them. The cake I ordered is really just a cute extra. I hope your father gets a kick out of the photo I put on it.”
Liv raised a brow. “Oh, Mom, why did you do that? I hope you didn’t go too far with the photo cake. You know how Daddy is. He’s not one for surprises.”
Her mother got a wicked twinkle in her eye, and it did nothing to soothe Liv’s nerves. “Oh, I know, but this is all in good fun. And besides, he’s retired now. It’s time to shake things up a bit. It will be good for him to laugh and step out of his comfort zone.”
Liv shrugged. “If you say so, lady. That’s your husband. You’ll be the one dealing with the consequences.” She teased her mom, then looked around once more. “Speaking of, where is the retirement boy of the hour? As a matter of fact, where is everyone else? I know the guests won’t arrive for another forty-five minutes, but what about Drea and Elijah? Shouldn’t they be here helping out?”
To that her mother shook her head once again, and her eyes went toward the ceiling. “Oh, honey, please, there you go starting things. Your father will be back shortly. He was getting a little antsy about the party, you know how he is—not really one for fanfare, so he was bugging me by getting too underfoot—so I sent him out to the grocery store for some extra supplies. And as for your sister and brother”—she let out a breath—“Alexandrea should be here after she finishes a quick shift at the restaurant. Her boss called her in and asked her to cover for just a few hours because someone called out sick. And Elijah, well, he’ll get here when he gets here. You know how your brother is, always more intent on his studies than anything else.”
It took all she had for Liv to keep her comments behind her teeth. Yeah sure, Drea got called in for a quick shift. And just how quick would that shift be, she wondered. Was it long enough for her married boss to try to put the moves on her way-too-gullible younger sister? The thought of Drea being used by her jerk of a boss always sent Liv’s blood boiling. Though Drea steadily denied anything was going on, and that she was tough enough to handle her handsy boss, Liv didn’t believe it. All it took was one visit to the trendy Soho eatery and a moment’s look at Drea’s boss in action, and she knew. The guy was up to no good.
And as for her perpetual college student younger brother, Elijah, well, he always conveniently found himself deep in his studies when it was time for any sort of hands-on work to be done. The day their very own Peter Pan finally grew up and took a little responsibility would be a great day indeed.
It was with that thought that not quite Peter Pan actually walked in. Tall and lanky with a surprisingly disarming smile, Elijah knew how to play to a room. It was with that smile that he sailed in and took their mother into a tight hug. “I thought you said there was a party going on here tonight, Ma? You think you made enough food? I can polish off this ham myself,” he said as he stepped away from their mother and reached for one of her sweet potato biscuits.
“Now, Elijah, you know that food is for the guests. Don’t you go spoiling your appetite,” their mother said without any real censure to back it up.
Elijah paused mid-chew and gave his mother a grin. “As if one little biscuit could put me off my appetite for more of your food.” He looked around, his eyes finally landing on Liv for the first time as he waved his half-eaten biscuit in front of her face. “Hey, big sis, did you taste one of these? Mom really put her foot in it this time.”
Liv gave him a tight smile. “No, I’ll get mine with dinner. There is too much to be done right now for me to get into eating. And for you too,” she added.
Elijah gave her only an eye roll by way of a reply, which had Liv shaking her head while her mother let out a frustrated breath. “Okay, kids, don’t you two start in now. Yes, there is plenty to be done. Elijah, you go on in there and set up that buffet table for me. We don’t have a lot of time before the guests get here. Olivia, look in the hall closet and see if you can find the good tablecloth. Maybe I missed it. And if you don’t see it, go on ahead and use the backup one. It’ll just have to do.”
“Do you want me to run over to Ms. Lynn’s apartment and ask if she’s got it? I will if you don’t want to call.”
Her mother just shook her head. “No need. I don’t want to put her out. Besides, I’m pretty sure she does have it, and when she sees I’m using my backup cloth, hopefully that’ll spur her conscience on to give me back my own.”
It was no use. Her mother was way too easy on people, but she wasn’t going to bug her with speeches about getting tough and standing up now. Not today—well, not any day. Her mother’s kindness was what everyone loved about her.
“Is that my Livy girl I hear in there?” Liv couldn’t help but smile, despite her father calling her by the long-standing childhood endearment “Livy.” No matter how often throughout middle and high school she tried to get them to call her what she considered the more adult sounding, Liv. It never quite stuck. They did what they wanted. Olivia, Livy, Girl Child Number One, it was a free-for-all. Guess they figured they made her, they’d name her.
“Yes, it is, Daddy.” Sure, she may technically be too old to be calling her father Daddy, but hey, if he was still in with Livy, then so what? She’d revel in it and stay his little girl.
She listened as her father came down the hall toward the kitchen, imagining him in his usual well-worn pants and soft, rubber-bottomed boots as he made his way to her. When he appeared in the kitchen, he was as she envisioned, only slightly older and a little more weathered than the little girl’s image she’d kept in her head. Tall, wide-shouldered, and still handsome for his age, with a big craggy smile, Mitch Gale greeted them by waving the plastic grocery bag in his hand. He then walked fully into the kitchen and placed it on the last available spot on the table, giving her mother a knowing look. “Don’t think I don’t know what you did there Anne, sending me on that fool’s errand. If you wanted me out of the way, you should have just said so. Looking around here, it sure doesn’t seem like you needed anything.”
Not put out in the least by his words, her mother gave him a light admonishment. “Oh please, Mitch, you know you were driving me crazy. Honestly, you should have stayed out for another good half an hour longer, at least.” She waved a hand. “But no matter, why don’t you go on in the living room and help your son set up the buffet table and then you can arrange the bar area. After that, go on in the bedroom and you’ll see I’ve laid out some clothes for you.”
Liv’s father chuckled as he turned toward her. “See, just like I said—busywork.” He took Liv into a warm hug, then pulling back he gave her a soft smile and looked her deep in her eyes, as he always did. Only this time Liv had to fight to keep her gaze steady and bright so as not to give a hint of any of the turmoil that she’d been through earlier in the day.
For all her putting on, her father was quick to see through her façade, and his smile quickly faded, casting down into a frown as he peered at her more intently. “You all right there, Livy?” he asked.
Liv smiled brighter, but in a rookie move she shifted her gaze away from her dad a bit too quickly, gesturing to show him the table as she shrugged. “I’m fine, Dad. You know there’s no need to worry about me, so stop trying to deflect from you not wanting to have this party tonight.” She waved a hand across the table, indicating her pies. “It’s gonna be quite the gathering. And look, I made your favorite.”
At the indication of Liv’s handiwork, thankfully her father looked over at the table and grinned. “These look delicious, sweetheart. Once again, you’ve outdone yourself.” He turned toward Liv’s mom. “See what she’s made here, Anne? Not only is our daughter smart as a whip, but she’s a whiz in the kitchen. I tell you, this one here will be quite a catch for some man.”
Both Liv and her mother groaned at the same time, and her father looked back and forth between them slightly bewildered, as if he didn’t know what he said. “What?” he asked.
“Daddy, you know that’s not very PC,” Liv said. “My skills in the kitchen shouldn’t have anything to do with my ability to catch a man.”
Her father gave her a put-upon look. “I swear, you millennials are so sensitive. Did I not talk about how smart you were first? I’m just pointing out that you have other qualities besides your brains. It wasn’t like I was attaching a gender to it. Though your mother’s pretty good at cooking, and I’ve been known to throw down in the kitchen myself.”
Liv’s mom wrinkled her nose.
“Hold it now,” her dad said. “Don’t you go sleeping on my skills or trying to call me some sort of chauvinist. I’m trying to do right here. I’m just saying that I’d hope that whoever you settle down with appreciates both your brains and your other talents and, more than that, I hope he has more than one or two to bring to the table himself. Speaking of your attributes and appreciating them”—Liv noticed her father’s expression turned decidedly less jovial—“I suppose we will be graced with the presence of that Damien of yours tonight? He doesn’t strike me as one to turn down a free meal.”
“His name is Damon, Dad, not Damien, and you know it,” Liv said. She also knew her father couldn’t care less what Damon’s name was. Never could from the first moment he’d met him. Score one for dear old perceptive dad. Why Liv hadn’t taken her father’s overzealous nature to heart and been a bit more perceptive herself, she didn’t know. She did know that she now regretted ignoring his dislike for her ex-boyfriend. But Liv definitely wasn’t in the mood to get into it tonight, and she scrambled to get away from any Damon talk without too much explanation. “Well, I don’t know.” She fought to keep lightness in her tone. “Damon says he’ll try to make it, and he wishes you all the best. But he is working on a big client acquisition right now, so he may not be able to get here in time for the party.”
Her father shrugged, as if he was saying “Good riddance.” Just as her brother had done before him, he grabbed a sweet potato biscuit before heading out toward the living room. “Oh well, it’ll be his loss, not ours,” he said before taking a big bite.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” her mother said. “I’ve got plenty of plasticware, so you can always bring him a take-home plate.
This pulled her father up short just as he was hitting the hallway. “Take home to where? Doesn’t he have his own place? And if he really wanted something to eat, he should’ve shown up himself.” Liv’s father gave her a quick glance and then turned away once again, mumbling. “Shoot, you’re not taking any of my good plasticware out of this house for some smooth-talking no-show. At the most, he gets a Dixie plate.”
Liv couldn’t help chuckling and shook her head at her father’s reaction as she went to work helping her mother prepare everything for the buffet table. But just as she was pulling one of the good serving platters down, her mother stopped her short. “So Damon is doing pretty good at work, you say?”
Seriously? Were they really going to stay on the subject? There was a party to get ready for. No need to fill the dead air with talk about her suddenly nonexistent love life. But of course, she couldn’t tell her mother that, so instead Liv just continued pulling the platter down and made as if slicing the roast beef were the most interesting task she’d ever encountered. “I didn’t say,” she mumbled, “but yes, he is.” She purposely tried to keep her voice as nonchalant as she could. Stay light and move on.
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” her mother said. “Though you’d think for an important family function such as this one he would be here. I mean, it’s not like you two have been seeing each other for a short time—what is it going on a year now?”
Liv squashed back a huff. So we’re not just letting this talk lie. All righty, then. “Not quite a year mom, only nine months. And as I said, he’s pretty busy.”
“If you say so.”
Ugh. If you say so? Liv mimicked the words in her head. Liv knew her mother just as well as her mother knew her, and that “if you say so” meant so much more than a light agreement. It meant that the subject was definitely not closed and would surely be continued at a later date. Thank you, Damon, for taking what was merely a devastating day and tilting it into the horrific column.
Chapter 2
Liv couldn’t help but smile; for the moment, all thoughts of the lack of a job and a surprise dumpation by a boyfriend were erased from her mind as the last guests left the retirement party, and she glimpsed her father ta
king her mother into a sweet embrace and whispering in her ear over by the kitchen pass-through. Seeing them both so happy was what this was all about. Despite her father saying he didn’t want the attention, he’d practically preened as many of his old coworkers and friends came by to wish him the best in his new life of leisure.
Not that leisure was exactly how her parents had mapped out spending their retirement years. Her mother had come up with a pretty elaborate travel plan for the next three months. They were taking a long-dreamed-of cruise to Europe. Well, the European trip was more her mother’s dream as opposed to her father’s. But he’d do anything to make her mother happy, and Liv knew her mother’s travel dreams had been derailed by the reality of children, tight finances, life, and all that came with being an adult and trying to just make it day to day. But that was done now, and after they returned to the States, the plan was for the two of them to do something that was more in line with her father’s wishes. They were going to rent an RV and drive across the country, hitting all the best fishing holes and barbecue spots along the way.
To Liv, as far as dreams went, it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it was what they wanted and the least of what they deserved after spending so many years essentially living for their three children.
Liv found herself suddenly blinking back tears thinking of family, children, and dreams deferred, which only made her angry at herself for even going there on such a good night, when she felt her shoulder nudged forcefully.
“What’s with you, Livy? Don’t go and tell me the ice queen is thawing,” her sister said at her side. She waved her wineglass toward their parents. “Ugh, those two are sickeningly sweet at times. Don’t let their magical picture of forever get you to thinking that it’s something for mere mortals. You keep grounded in the real world. That type of stuff ends with their generation.”
Liv let out a slow breath through her nose. Leave it to Drea to pretty much be the wet blanket nobody ever needed. She gave her sister a side-eye glance. “There’s nothing wrong with me. And everything about Mom and Dad is pretty much perfect. They should be admired.”
As Good as the First Time Page 2