by Ana Novak
I sat next to Mel at the table and steadfastly ignored the empty seat to my right, an irritating reminder of Dave’s absence. For a brief moment, I wished I’d brought Shane, but that probably would have snowballed into a bigger disaster than I was prepared to handle. For one thing, Shane and I weren’t dating seriously, and for another thing, my father had been one of my most vocal critics during the cheating scandal a year and a half ago. Not that I blamed him, really. If anyone had ever made the link between me and Van, they would inevitably connect me to my father as well, and news of his affair with my mother, even at this late date, would almost certainly become tabloid fodder. So far I was the only member of the Kane family to become a permanent fixture on the gossip sites.
My phone vibrated from my purse, and I pulled it out, checking it under the table. It was a text from Dave.
Are you at Thursday night dinner at Arnold’s?
Stop being a stalker, I texted back furiously. Where I’m at is none of your business.
I was going to ask if you wanted to meet for dinner, he replied immediately, and somehow managed to sound wounded even in a text message. I rolled my eyes and shoved my phone back into my purse. Pangs of guilt began almost immediately, and I did my best to ignore them. Dave had cheated on me, and being civil to him for the sake of the wedding was not the same as being friendly with him personally.
“When does your tour begin, Taylor?” my father asked from his seat at the head of the table.
I removed my napkin from the table so that the housekeeper could put my salad in front of me. “My first signing is on January fifteenth,” I said. “Then I have another one in Jersey, and after that I fly to Florida.”
“You must be so excited,” Teresa said. “A nationwide book tour! I didn’t even know authors did that anymore.”
“I’ve only done virtual tours before,” I admitted. “Which was just fine with me since I could do all my interviews from my agent’s office. But this time I’m going to try to get out there and be social.”
“Are you doing any television interviews?” Arnold asked gruffly.
I shook my head. “Not this time.”
“How many times have you been on Good Morning America?” Arnold asked Van, and my brother shrugged.
“I don’t know, Dad. I really can’t compare what I do to Taylor’s job. We’re in different industries. Authors are always eccentric.”
My father speared a spinach leaf like he wanted it to suffer. “And musicians aren’t?”
“Maybe I should have said private. You don’t see J.K. Rowling performing on the road for her fans six months out of the year.”
“No, but she’s very active on social media.”
Neither of us could dispute that. I decided to take a more direct approach. “You’re right,” I said. “After- after everything that happened, I could have done more to take advantage of the publicity. But I’m changing that now. Throughout the tour, I’ll be posting on Facebook and Twitter.” I stabbed a tomato with my fork.
“And Instagram,” Mel added. “We’ve already set up an account for her.” She was lying, but I appreciated the effort.
“As long as you keep your private business private.” Arnold shoved a forkful of salad into his mouth and chewed for a moment, letting the unspoken accusation hang in the air. I obviously hadn’t done a very good job at keeping my private business private with Dave and Shane. In a family that valued its secrets, I had become an unwelcome magnet for tabloid speculation.
“Mel just finished another movie,” Van said, changing the subject, and I ate silently as Mel leaped into action, chattering about her latest film. Eventually she shifted to the subject of a charity campaign she was running for local foster care organizations. She’d recently produced a documentary about the need for community involvement, and she and the director had apparently hit it off.
“He’s going to be huge, I know it. I’d like to introduce him to Taylor, actually,” she said, giving me a sly look. “I think they might be a match.”
I choked on my water and set my glass down, pressing my napkin to my mouth and glaring daggers at her. The last thing I needed was for dinner conversation to turn into an analysis of my love life.
The second course came blessedly soon after that, and while I didn’t touch the veal parmigiana, my water glass got quite the workout. During my father’s rant about how pirates were destroying the music industry- something I could wholeheartedly agree with- I checked my phone again, finding three texts from Dave and one from Shane.
You busy? Shane had asked.
I was about to text back, but then Arnold asked me about the severity of ebook piracy in the publishing industry, and I looked up, trying to pretend like I’d been engaged in the conversation from the very beginning. I left my phone in my purse for the remainder of dinner, and was immensely relieved when we made it through dessert without any more incidents.
“Thank you for having us,” I said to Teresa when she showed us to the door after dinner. Arnold had already dismissed us and gone upstairs.
“My pleasure,” she said, and gave me a quick hug. “You’re even lovelier than your father said.”
“And you’re a much better woman than he deserves,” I said, and she smiled and waved me off.
“That was loads of fun,” I said to Van as he collapsed on the car seat beside me. “Thanks so much for finagling that invite for me.”
“He only wants the best for you,” Van said, but even he looked tired and worn-out from the tense conversation.
“I’ve got just the thing to cheer you up,” Mel said. “Come with us to a party.”
“There’s no way. I’m exhausted. Just drop me off at home.”
“No can do,” Van said. “We’re already committed. That’s why we took a limo instead of the towncar.”
“Oh, come on, Van. I just took a real beating in there.” My phone rang, and I dug it out of my purse. “It’s my mom. I have to take this.”
I answered to hear my mom chirping, “Hello, sweetheart!” on the other end of the line, immediately easing my frustration.
“Hi, Mom. Do you miss me?”
“So much, darling. How is New York? How is Arnold?”
“I just had dinner with him and Van.”
“Oh, tell your brother hello for me. I hope Arnold is doing well.”
“He’s great.” I never intended to give terse answers about my dad, but I didn’t feel comfortable talking to my mother about him. For the entirety of my childhood, she had painted him as some kind of saint- and maybe, in some ways, he was. He’d provided ample financial support while I was growing up, saving my mother and I from the many hardships that ordinarily occur in a single-parent household, and he hadn’t batted an eyelash when I’d talked to him about the possibility of attending NYU. I was thankful, but the Arnold Kane who had insisted on paying all of our bills so that my mother could stay at home to raise me seemed like a very different person from the Arnold Kane who was constantly harping on me about “wasting my potential” pursuing a writing career.
“Hey Mom, when should I fly over for Thanksgiving? I’ll have to leave first thing Friday morning, but I want to be there. Do you need help with the shopping?” I asked, thinking what a relief it would be to get away for a few days.
There was a pause, and my heart sank. My mother typically avoided conflict by staying silent.
“Still there, Mom?”
“I’m here, sweetie. That’s why I was calling, actually. I assumed you’d be spending Thanksgiving with your east coast family, and I made plans to celebrate with Aaron.”
“Aaron? Who is Aaron?”
“I’m sure you’ve met him, Taylor. He sells his pottery at the farmer’s market every week.”
I wracked my brain for who I knew from the Oroville farmer’s market, and came up with a blurry picture of an older balding gentleman with spattered blue jeans. “I think so. Are you two seeing each other now? I’ve only been gone a few weeks, Mom. When did t
his happen?”
“Well, it’s not exactly new…”
“Mom!” I was genuinely shocked. I thought we shared everything. “Were you two running around on the sly while I was still living there?”
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know how hard it was for you to lose Dave.”
“I didn’t lose Dave, I left Dave.” I was simultaneously flabbergasted that I’d been so oblivious and embarrassed that my mother had felt the need to hide her dating life from me so as not to hurt my feelings. “Well, that’s okay, Mom, I can stay here for Thanksgiving, but what about Christmas?”
Another pause.
“Oh, my god!” I burst out. “What, are you leaving the country or something?”
Silence.
“You are!” I was nearly hyperventilating now.
“Aaron got this amazing deal on cruise tickets to Puerto Vallarta. I’m so excited! You know I’ve always wanted to go on a cruise.”
I didn’t know, actually, but I was more concerned with the fact that I’d have to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas in New York now, and that my homebody mother was going to be cruising to Mexico with her secret boyfriend while I was still waffling on whether or not this friends with benefits thing would work with Shane. “I’m really happy for you,” I said finally, feeling exactly the opposite. “That’s awesome news.”
I heard some noise in the background, and a low voice speaking unintelligibly. “Be right there,” my mother said. “Taylor, honey, it’s Pokeno night and I’m the dealer. I have to go.”
“Sure, Mom. Have fun. Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetie! Hugs and kisses!”
I ended the call and dropped my phone in my lap, staring dazedly out the window.
“Your mum’s dating someone?” Mel ventured after a long pause.
I nodded. “They’re visiting his family for Thanksgiving. And they’re going on a cruise to Mexico for Christmas.”
“Go, Mom!” Van said admiringly, and withered when I glared at him. “Or…not?”
“You’ll get to spend Thanksgiving with us,” Mel said. “That’s good, yeah?”
“But we’re going to St. Barts for Christmas,” Van said, then grinned. “You can come with us!”
“Nothing like being the third wheel with your brother and his wife,” I muttered. “Thanks, I’ll pass. Dad will probably invite me over anyway.”
“He’s going to St. Barts, too.”
“Well, fuck,” I burst out, genuinely frustrated and disappointed. “All I wanted was to spend the holidays with my mom, but she apparently went and got a life literally the minute I got on the plane to come here! How pathetic am I?”
“Pretty pathetic,” Van said, and Mel smacked his arm.
“You just moved cross-country,” she said. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. My first Christmas here, I couldn’t afford to go home and I celebrated alone in my dorm room.”
“You were in college,” I wailed. “I’m twenty-eight years old and divorced. I officially have no life. And don’t tell me that I’m on the New York Times bestseller list, because that doesn’t make me feel any better!” I stared fiercely at Van, who obediently shut his mouth. I could tell that had been exactly what he was going to say.
“You are seeing Shane,” Mel said, and her tone was sickly sweet with false innocence. “Do you know what he’ll be doing for Christmas?”
“We’re just doing the friends with benefits thing,” I said wearily. “Spending Christmas together would be weirdly couple-ish.”
“Friends with benefits?” Van’s expression instantly changed from sympathetic to murderous.
“Back off,” I said crossly. “It wasn’t Shane’s idea. I don’t want to jump into another relationship right away.”
“But you like him?” Mel prompted.
“This is not a conversation I want to have with my brother in the car.”
“It’s a conversation we’re going to have,” Van said, folding his arms across his chest. “What kind of guy agrees to a friends with benefits arrangement?”
“Every guy,” Mel and I chorused in unison.
“Like you’ve never done it,” I added pointedly.
“This is different. You’re not a friends with benefits kind of girl. You’re a commitment kind of girl, and Kruger has no business taking advantage of you like that.”
Oh, lord, if my brother only knew what Shane and I did behind closed doors. “He’s not taking advantage of me,” I said. “I told him the ground rules from day one, and he agreed to them. Like I said, this wasn’t his idea, he just agreed when I suggested it.”
“And that makes what he’s doing okay?” Van shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“It makes what we’re doing okay because I’m a willing participant,” I answered, and my tone was sharper than I’d intended. “I know what I’m doing, Van. I want to be independent- I don’t want another man coming in and trying to run my life. Shane gets that.”
“Dave didn’t run your life,” Van said.
My phone vibrated, and I looked down to see yet another text from Dave. I unlocked the phone to see the entire message.
You could at least talk to me. We have to be in this wedding together and you’re not making it easy.
“That’s Dave right now,” I said, “Trying to make me do something I don’t want to do. I thought divorcing him would be the end of that, but I guess not.” Feeling more than a little dramatic, I made a big show of turning off my phone and shoving it back into my purse. When I turned back to Van, his expression was serious. “Look, I know you’re worried about me, but I’m fine. Or at least I’ll be fine. Believe it or not, Shane is actually doing a great job letting me make my own decisions, so I’d appreciate it if you’d leave him alone. I’ll figure something out for Christmas, and I guess you guys are stuck with me for Thanksgiving.”
Van didn’t look mollified by any stretch of the imagination, but he didn’t say anything else.
“Where is this party?” I asked Mel, desperate for a change of subject.
“The children’s home over on 14th Avenue. It’s not too far from your apartment.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “What kind of party is being held at a children’s home?”
“The kind of party where you can get your mind off your parents and the three of us can do some good,” Mel said firmly. “A friend of mine volunteers there. They have a party for the kids every month, but they try to recruit special guests around the holidays to help keep spirits up.” She picked up her phone. “That’s him texting now.”
“I brought my guitar,” Van spoke up, and gave me a lopsided smile, clearly making an attempt at a peace offering. “There’s a piano there. We could duet.”
Almost immediately, my frustration abated. Van and his awkward charm were just too adorable to resist. The last time Van and I had sung together had been a drunken rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “New York New York” at a gay bar in downtown Brooklyn three years ago. Dave had been out of town on business and Mel had been filming on location in Hawaii, so we’d ventured out on the town in fedoras and sunglasses. We hadn’t looked even a bit out of place in the bar.
“Why not?” I said, trying to sound upbeat. “It’ll be good to practice before the Black Friday Bash. Let’s give them something to remember. My lousy singing and your terrible dancing.”
“No dancing,” Mel said, not looking up from her phone.
Van shrugged. Let’s talk later, he mouthed to me, and I smothered a smile.
“He’s there,” Mel announced, and smiled at me as she slipped her phone back into the pocket of her dress. “My director and editor for the documentary is going to be there tonight, Taylor. I just know the two of you are going to hit it off.”
“The guy you told my dad about?” I said, horrified. “I thought this party was supposed to get my mind off my issues, not rub them in my face!”
“I said get your mind off your parents, not your love life. Anyway, it’s not l
ike he’s hoping to get a date with you. I just thought- you know, since you don’t have a lot of friends in town…”
“I had you,” I said, “Although I’m not sure how much longer that’ll last if you keep sending men after me. And I have Mistral. That’s plenty.”
“Why are you always trying to set up my sister?” Van said to Mel, and she shrugged.
“I’m not setting her up. I’m just introducing her to interesting people. He’s a really nice person and he’s new in town. You’ll like him.”
“If he’s in the film industry, I can pretty much guarantee I won’t like him,” I retorted. “Celebrities- present company excluded, obviously- are typically egomaniacs looking to put another notch on their respective belts.”
“Preach,” Van chimed in. “You don’t need to date anyone right now.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“It would sure make Van feel better if you didn’t,” Mel said, chuckling. “But like I said, Taylor, he’s just a guy, not a celebrity. No need to pash and root on the first date.”
I frowned. “What the hell does pash and root mean?”
“Hook up,” Van supplied helpfully. “And she’s right. No need.”
“Hooking up was nowhere on my radar this evening.”
“Good.”
I rolled my eyes at Van’s protective older brother act, but now that I’d had time to get used to the idea, I was secretly feeling glad to be going somewhere instead of heading back to my apartment. My shabby chic new furniture would still be waiting for me when I got home.
When we arrived at the children’s home, there were a few photographers waiting out front, but nowhere close to the mob that usually followed Van around. Mel had done a good job keeping this event under wraps. Van smiled for the cameras as we exited the limo. He took my hand and led me inside, with Mel on his opposite side. I felt a twinge of satisfaction when one of the paparazzi called out asking Van how we knew each other. If they’d done any real digging, they could have figured out our connection easily, but for now at least it was obvious that I was a close friend of both Van and Mel’s, and not the homewrecker they’d initially labeled me as. And if they didn’t figure it out beforehand, the Black Friday Bash would certainly clarify things for them.