If this is all God is going to give me, so be it.
1
The Cisco triplets stared at one another across the table, shivering inside their warm ski jackets. They ordered hot chocolate from a weary-looking waitress.
Sam, the youngest of the triplets by seven whole minutes, finally spoke. “Will somebody please tell me what the hell we’re doing here in New York City, anyway? We should have gone to the mountains like we planned. I hate it that we switched up, and Cisco is spending Thanksgiving by herself. I thought we had more guts than to kowtow to our father and his new…squeeze.”
Hard-Hearted Hannah, as she came to be known during their childhoods, punched her brother’s upper arm. “We’re here because Granny Cisco insisted we do what Dad said. It’s one of Dad’s command performances, so let’s just make the best of it. It’s a lousy day and a half out of our lives, okay? I think we’re tough enough to handle whatever he throws at us.”
Sara, a.k.a. Sassy Sara, folded her arms across her chest, still unwilling to remove her down jacket. She looked around, knowing they were causing a small stir in the coffee shop. It was uncanny the way the three of them mirrored one another. They had the same curly reddish-brown hair, the same smattering of freckles across the bridges of their noses. Their eyes were a startling blue that turned a pearl gray when something distressed them. At present their eyes were pearl gray, their well-defined jaws grim. And their noses twitched, another sign of anxiety. People did tend to stare at identical twins, and their brother looked so much like the girls that it was sometimes difficult to tell them apart when they were dressed in bulky clothing with their woolen hats on. When the caps were removed, of course, Sam stood out like a beacon, because of his close-cropped hair. Once, in their senior year in high school, Sam had let his hair grow when they did a skit pretending to be the McGuire Sisters. Not that any of their peers knew who the McGuire Sisters were, but they did bring down the house. “We’re outta there the minute they serve dessert. Do either one of you have a problem with that?” Sara’s tone clearly said they’d better not have a problem with it. She was the oldest by seven minutes, and as such was the ring-leader of the trio.
As one, they cupped their hands around the steaming mugs of hot chocolate. As a rule, they moved in sync, and this time it was no different. They even sipped the hot drink on cue.
“I’m pissed. Not just a little bit pissed but big-time pissed,” Hannah growled, menace ringing in her voice. “How could he do such an ugly thing and not tell us until after the fact? We aren’t little kids anymore. We’re seniors in college. We’re grown-ups,” she clarified, her freckles bunching into a knot over the bridge of her nose.
Sam poked at the tiny marshmallows in his cup with his index finger. His lips compressed into a tight line across his face at his sister’s words. “Slapping Granny Cisco into an assisted-living facility is not my idea of a united family. We need to spring her. Why’d he do it? All I need is one reason. Just one lousy reason.”
It was Sara’s turn to make a comment. “Because he wants to take control of Cisco Candies without interference from Cisco. He has a new playmate now, and he probably needs to feel important. Men his age do stupid things like this when they go through a midlife crisis. I read that in a book somewhere. She’s only twenty-nine, seven years older than we are. Cisco said Dad met her in a health club.”
“The best part of this, if there is a best part, is Cisco is allowed to have Freddie with her,” Hannah said, referring to her grandmother’s seven-year-old golden retriever. “What I don’t understand is why she couldn’t continue to stay at the cottage. Hell, she could afford to have a whole team of medical people help her twenty-four/seven. So she stumbles around a little because of her cataracts, so what? I know, I know, they have to be ripe before they can be removed. She knows that cottage by heart. So she broke her arm, so what? She slipped on the kitchen rug. She’s only seventy-four and not ready to be put out to pasture, which is what I think Dad wants. Why didn’t she fight? Cisco has weathered all kinds of storms, but she caved on this. I just don’t get it.” She was so breathless in her anger, she deflated like a pricked balloon.
“Damn it, Hanny, she didn’t fight because Dad blindsided her. She didn’t see it coming. No pun intended. Her own son, our father, did that to her, and he broke her heart by doing it. His explanation was, it was for her own good. He said broken bones at her age never mend properly, and he didn’t want to feel responsible if she took another tumble.
“Dad also said the cottage is so isolated Cisco could take a bad fall and no one would know because she’s too stubborn to have help. We all know she refuses to wear her hearing aids. He made a big deal out of that, too. He got three doctors to sign off on it and was prepared to go to court if Cisco balked. She just caved, it’s that simple. You do that when someone breaks your heart. I say we take off the next semester and stay with her at the cottage. Let’s take a vote.”
“Yesss,” Hannah and Sam said, their fists shooting in the air.
“Okay. Now, which one of us is going to break the news to good old Dad?”
“You’re the oldest. Take a guess,” Hannah said.
“Okay. Before or after dinner?”
“Let’s play it by ear. We’ll know when the time is right. I want to make sure we’re straight on something. We’re going home for Christmas, right? Who cares what Dad and his nubile squeeze do. We spring Cisco and take her back home even if we have to kidnap her, right?” Sam’s face was so fierce, his siblings reached out to him as they nodded.
“That’s right, little brother. We’ve never missed a Christmas with Cisco yet, and this is not the year to start,” Sara said tightly. Three hands slapped down on the table, one covering the other. “If Dad has other plans, we can live with it.”
“It’s time to go,” Hannah said, fishing money out of her pocket to pay for the hot chocolate. “I can’t wait to see what this one looks like,” she said, referring to her father’s latest companion. “Anyone want to bet she has big tits, collagen lips, and a tight ass?”
“That’s a sucker bet,” Sam snarled as he struggled with his backpack, gloves, and jacket.
Hannah shrugged into her jacket, aware that the other customers were staring at them. Their smiles were forced as they left the warm, steamy coffee shop for the walk to their grandmother’s apartment at the Dakota, the historic apartment building on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.
Forty-five minutes later, they rode the elevator to the ninth floor. Hannah reached into her pocket for her key.
“Forget it, the locks have probably been changed,” Sara said. “We ring the bell and wait. Don’t you get it, we’re guests now? It’s a whole new ball game this time around.”
“I don’t doubt you for a minute, big sister, but let’s be sure. Ah, right as usual,” Hannah said, withdrawing the key from the lock. She gave an elaborate shrug as she kicked the door instead of ringing the bell. When there was no response, she kicked it again, this time louder. “Look, I made a smudge,” she said, pointing to an ugly black mark at the base of the door.
The door swung wide. Jonathan Cisco stared at his children. “The doorbell really does work,” he said coolly. He was a tall man. A handsome man with the same curly redbrown hair as his children, and the same blue eyes. Eyes that were now pearl gray just like the triplets’. Not yet fifty, he carried his years well, in part because of his daily workouts, good eating habits, and eight hours of sleep a night, not to mention drinking the requisite eight glasses of water a day. He stood aside for the triplets to enter their grandmother’s apartment. His apartment now.
“Oh myyy God!” Hannah wailed.
“I hate it!” Sara cried.
“You sure move fast, Dad,” Sam said, looking around at the glaring black-and-white decor. “I never saw a black flower before. I guess you did all this redecorating before you slapped Cisco in that place. Looks like a major undertaking to me. Like you planned it way ahead of time. My opinion, for whatever
it’s worth, is it’s ugly.”
Hannah ran into the apartment and down the hall. Sara and Sam ran after her when they heard her high-pitched squeal of distress. Their eyes were wild with horror as they surveyed the three bedrooms that had at one time been theirs. Hannah’s room was black and white with purple accents. Sara’s was black and white with red accents. Sam’s was black and white with blue accents.
“Where’s our stuff?” they asked in unison. “Where’s Mom’s picture? The family picture with all of us in it?”
Jonathan Cisco had the grace to look ashamed. He turned away. “In storage. It was mostly just clutter. I thought since you will be graduating in the spring, you’d all be finding your own places to live. I know young college grads don’t want to live with their parents.”
“Now, you see, Dad, that’s where you’re wrong,” Hard-Hearted Hannah said, living up to her childhood name. “We did plan on coming back here for as long as it takes to find really, really high-paying jobs. New York is where the job market is. What’s better than paying no rent? Nothing, that’s what. I want my stuff back.” Her voice dripped ice. “And I damn well want Mom’s picture back.”
They closed ranks then and drew together. Their father realized that he would get nowhere with them. The proverbial brick wall. He shrugged as he prepared to walk out of the room.
“We want to talk about Cisco and what you did to her. She’s our grandmother, and she damn well raised us, no thanks to you, Dad. How could you do that to her? How?” Sam demanded, his voice all choked up.
“I did it because it was the right thing to do. I’m sad to say your grandmother is becoming feeble. She needs to be looked after properly. She needs to eat properly, rest properly, and take her medication on time, not when and if she thinks about it. If she were to fall, she could very well become incapacitated. She couldn’t handle that. She would never be the same again. I don’t think any of us want that for her. I know I don’t. She can’t see, and she can’t handle the business anymore. I’m doing her the biggest favor of her life by making sure she’s safe and sound. She’ll get used to the new routine at the facility. And they made a special concession for her to keep Freddie with her.”
“Favor!” the triplets shouted in unison.
“This is not negotiable, and I do not have to explain to any of you why and what I do. Now, it might be a good idea for you to settle in. I have to go out now for an important meeting. I won’t be home till quite late, so don’t wait up for me. I hired a housekeeper some time ago, and she’ll prepare dinner for you. It’s nice to see you all,” he added as an afterthought.
When the door closed behind their father, the triplets huddled together the way they had when they were children. Their eyes were misty with unshed tears, their bodies trembling. Hannah was the first one to speak. “I can’t sleep in a black-and-white room. I need my junk. I need to see Mom’s picture before I fall asleep. And I hate the color purple. Do you think he had the balls to change Cisco’s room?”
They created their own wind tunnel as they raced down the hall and around the corner to their grandmother’s room. Her hand shaking, Sara turned the knob. They literally wilted in relief when they saw the room was intact. “We sleep in here. Hanny and I get the bed. Sam, you get the couch. It’s just as comfortable as the bed. Look, there’s Freddie’s bed. God, this feels so good.” She bounced on the bed to make her point.
“It smells just like Cisco,” Sam said inhaling deeply. “Just like her,” he said happily.
Hannah swooned as she flopped down on Freddie’s bed.
Sara reared up. She fiddled with her tight curly hair until she had it in a tidy bun at the nape of her neck. “We need a plan.”
To Jonathan Cisco’s chagrin, on Thanksgiving Day his children trooped into the dining room attired in jeans and sweatshirts that said Penn State on the front. They waited expectantly for their father to introduce the young woman at his side. “Alexandra, I’d like you to meet my children—Hannah, Sara, and Sam.” The triplets nodded, their heads barely moving.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Alexandra gushed. “What interesting lives you’ve led, and you’re not yet, what is it, twenty-two?”
The triplets offered up grimaces.
“And you would be…how old?” Hard-Hearted Hannah asked.
“Forever twenty-nine,” Alexandra said with a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“What is it you do?” Sara asked politely.
“I’m a decorator. Right now I’m between jobs.”
Sam slapped at his forehead. “Now why did I know you were going to say that.” He looked around at the black-and-white furniture, the chrome and glass that seemed to be everywhere, disgust written all over his features.
“Your eyeballs really stand at attention in a room like this. I find it cold and austere. What happened to all my grandmother’s things? The antiques in particular. I guess black and white is in this year,” Sara said.
“Actually, black and white is in. I like things that are clean and crisp. Jon said he likes what I’ve done. Your grandmother’s things were placed in storage. I made sure to catalog everything. How do you like the way your rooms turned out?”
Hard-Hearted Hannah answered for all of them. “Actually,” she said drawing out the word the way Alexandra had, “we pretty much think they stink. We’ve been hanging out in Cisco’s room. Is it time to eat?”
“No, it isn’t time to eat,” Jonathan snapped. “We’re having cocktails because there’s something I want to talk to all of you about. The least you could have done is dress for dinner. The three of you look like homeless people.”
“Let’s get to it, Dad,” Sam said, marching into the sterile-looking living room. “Are these sofas leather or plastic?” he demanded.
Alexandra’s chiseled features registered horror. “Leather, of course.”
“They kill animals for leather. I’m not sitting on this stuff,” Hannah said, dropping to the floor and crossing her legs. Her siblings joined her. “How long is this going to take? When are we going to eat?”
“As long as it takes, that’s how long,” their father snapped again.
Jonathan walked over to the bar, where he poured champagne into fragile flutes. “What’s your GPA this semester?”
“Three-point-eight,” the triplets said in unison. Their father looked pleased as he handed out the glasses.
“We all have high IQs,” Sara said. “What’s yours?” she asked Alexandra.
“It’s gotta be single-digit,” Sam muttered under his breath.
Jonathan cleared his throat. “Alexandra and I wanted you to be the first to know that we’re getting married on New Year’s Day. Of course we’d like you to attend the small formal wedding here at the apartment. To a long life rich with happiness,” he said to Alexandra, a sappy look of adoration on his face. The triplets merely held the flutes but didn’t drink from them or give any sign that they accepted the toast.
“Will Cisco be here for the wedding?” Sara asked.
“I rather doubt it,” her father responded.
“Then count us out. Isn’t it time to eat? By the way, we decided to drive back to school after dinner. We’d like to get the issue of Christmas cleared up now, though. We’re going to spend the holidays with Cisco, Sam said.”
“I closed up the house. You can’t go there. Alexandra and I want you to come here so we can spend Christmas together. I have several parties planned. We’re going to have a wonderful big tree. I want you here,” he said coldly.
Sam’s eyes narrowed, his slim body going tense. “We’ll just open the house back up. I know how to turn everything on.” His expression clearly defied his father to argue with him.
“We’ve always spent Christmas with Cisco. Even before Mom died, we spent Christmas in the mountains. It’s a tradition, and we aren’t giving it up…Dad,” Hannah said.
“Why don’t we just grab a sandwich and head on back,” Sam said, leaping to his feet.
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br /> “Good idea,” Hannah said.
“I’m with you guys,” Sara said, reaching for her brother’s hand so he could pull her to her feet.
“You’ll do no such thing. Oh, there’s Maureen now, signaling that dinner is ready,” Jonathan said, relief ringing in his voice.
“We’re acting like spoiled ten-year-olds,” Sam whispered in Sara’s ear as they walked to the dining room.
Sara snorted. “That’s exactly how I feel right now. Alexandra has Gold Digger plastered right across her forehead. This dinner is going to tell us the tale. If there aren’t six chairs at that table, I’m leaving. You know what else, I’m never coming back, either.”
Cisco always sat at the head of the table, their father and Sam at her right, Hannah and Sara on her left. There were six chairs, Sara saw to her relief. Now, the big question was, who was going to sit in their grandmother’s chair, or would it remain empty throughout the meal?
The chair at the head of the table remained empty as Jonathan took his seat next to Alexandra.
Sara stared at her brother through the tulip arrangement and over the top of the huge thirty-five-pound turkey. She gave a slight nod. Within seconds, Sam had moved his plate and chair to the opposite side of the table and was seated alongside his sisters.
The blessing was short and curt, offered up by Jonathan. Cisco always blessed and thanked God for a full ten minutes before she carved the turkey.
Sara continued to watch Alexandra through the tulip arrangement as her father nervously picked up the carving knife. She tried to be objective about her father’s choice in women but found it hard going. Cisco always said to look for the good in people. That was even harder to do.
Alexandra was dressed to perfection in designer wear, hair coiffed so that not a strand was out of place, makeup so flawless it looked like it had been sprayed on. Eyes bluer than a summer day couldn’t be real. Her teeth were small and pearl-like. They glistened behind glistening lips. Diamonds winked in her ears, on her neck, her wrists, and her fingers. She looked shellacked. Sara’s final assessment was that Alexandra was as vapid and artificial as a Barbie doll.
No Place Like Home (Holiday Classics) Page 2