“Why’s that? Did you and Maddie have a fight or something?” He chuckled.
“No. It’s nothing like that. I just don’t want to go.”
“Spill it, Lizzie.” Ethan set his cell phone on the table, accidentally bumping his coffee. He reached for my napkin to wipe up the splotches.
How could I tell him what I was afraid of? I was too old to be worrying about such silly things. Ethan’s eyes bored through me.
I pointed to my bracelet.
Ethan shook his head. “I’m not following you.”
“Come on. She gave me a bracelet right away. What kind of gift will she give me for Christmas? What will Sarah think? And what if Sarah finds out about the bracelet? She’ll catch me in a lie. Then our relationship really would be over.”
Ethan shook his head. He sauntered back to the counter, refilled his cup, and then came and sat back down. “I wish I had your problems.”
“Why is that?”
“Seriously, Lizzie! Do you think Maddie is that stupid? And so what if Sarah finds out? All along, you’ve wanted to find a way out. I don’t understand why you fight so hard to stay in a relationship you even don’t want! I wish I had your problems—because they’re all imaginary.” He pushed his chair away from the table, causing me to wince as the chair legs scraped along the floor.
“What problems do you have that are real?” My voice quivered with anger.
“She wants to adopt a child. We’ve started the process. Soon, I may be a daddy.”
For an expectant father, he didn’t look too happy about it. He looked so unhappy that I didn’t even try to joke that at least he wouldn’t have to sleep with her to father the child.
“Does she know you hate kids?”
“I don’t hate them.” He sighed. “I just don’t want any. They poop and piss in their diapers. And they cry. They smell. And we don’t make a lot of money. Not all of us have a trust fund and can go to Breckenridge for the holidays.”
Ethan had always struggled with bodily functions, I knew. Piss, poop, and sweat grossed him out. All sexual acts repulsed him. There were times when I thought his wife must have loved him more than any woman had ever loved a man, history or no history. How could she be with a man who was repulsed by not only her secretions, but also his own? To my knowledge, Ethan never masturbated, let alone fucked. Kissing was probably out of the question as well. I imagined oral sex certainly wouldn’t be an option. It was as if he and his wife would live like siblings for the rest of their lives. No wonder she was desperate for a child.
I let the trust fund comment slide. I’ve lived with that stigma all of my life, and while I resented people thinking I was a typical trust fund baby, few people knew I received a scholarship for my studies. Also, instead of asking for money, I worked my way through my undergrad years. But I also knew that I couldn’t pursue a degree in history without a trust fund. Not many people get rich by studying history. It helped that Sarah also came from money. One of us could always suggest an expensive dinner or a weekend away without making the other feel bad. If Sarah had been a boy, my mother would have been so proud of me; she could have bragged to her friends at the club about me dating someone of “our” status.
“What are you going to do?” My instinct was to offer Ethan money. I always had that instinct. I hated watching people suffer because they didn’t have what I had too much of. But experience has taught me that people don’t like to be reminded they are struggling and I am rich—and not rich from my own endeavors, but rich because my parents are rich. People really hated that.
“I can’t really refuse her now, can I? She’s been making all of the sacrifices, and I think I owe her.”
I stared at a table of high school students. They were trying to act dignified, drinking lattes and discussing a movie they had seen the night before.
After a pause, I asked Ethan, “Do you think that’s fair?”
“Fair to whom? My wife? Yes. Me? No. And the child? Well, it’s not fair to the child at all. But then again, how many fathers really want their children?”
His coldness was a cover; I could tell by his eyes that the prospect weighed on him. Ethan never wanted to hurt a soul. He was tormented enough about ruining his wife’s life, which was why he would never leave her. She never had to worry about him cheating on her. And now he would have to account for another life. It was too early to know if that life would be ruined, but it didn’t look good. It definitely didn’t look good.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Christmas Eve arrived much faster than I wanted it to. Sarah and I were expected at Peter’s for dinner, and since my parents would be at the house on Christmas morning, Sarah and I decided to exchange our gifts on the morning of Christmas Eve.
We had decorated a small tree, which pleased us both; our mothers had always gone crazy with Christmas opulence during our childhoods—all white lights and sophisticated ornaments. I had always loved the simplicity of bubble lights and could stare at them for hours and be completely at peace, but they were never deemed dignified enough for my mother. Sarah had chosen our ornaments, cute little decorations from all of her favorite childhood Christmas shows—the kind her mother despised. Sarah loved the Mickey Mouse Christmas Carol the most, and you could tell by looking at our tree.
The tree made me smile. I wish I liked my mother enough to invite her over and rub her face in it; her disdain would be priceless.
Sarah and I had also agreed on a budget for gifts. We were not allowed to spend more than three hundred dollars on each other. But while shopping for my mother’s gift in Tiffany’s, I found a stunning amethyst ring. As soon as I saw it, I knew Sarah would love it. I bought it for her without thinking. With one purchase, I had blown the budget out of the water. Not wanting to let on, I purchased other gifts, too, and wrapped them separately.
As we unwrapped our gifts, I kept the Tiffany’s box in my pocket. Sarah had already started to get up to clear away the wrapping paper when I handed her the box.
Her eyes lit up and then she slapped my arm playfully. “I can’t believe you! We had a deal—no more than three hundred dollars.” She slowly opened up the box. “Wow. It’s beautiful. You even remembered my birthstone.” Sarah hugged me and then slid the ring onto her finger. She kept admiring the amethyst, smiling, for the rest of the day.
* * *
Both of us sighed when we pulled out of the parking lot and hit the road for Peter’s house. For so many years, I had avoided the family on holidays or had made only the quickest of appearances. I never understood the incessant need to be with family on special days. All families did was fight, bicker, belittle, and abuse each other.
Yet that year, Sarah and I had agreed to spend several days at Peter’s. Sarah didn’t have any siblings or other close family, apart from Rose, so when Maddie invited us, Sarah had jumped at the chance. It seemed her desire to be with family—even one as dysfunctional as mine—overcame her desire for a peaceful holiday. I said yes only because Maddie asked, and to make Sarah happy. But once we started heading to the house, both of us had reservations.
No one should make plans for Christmas months ahead of time, I thought. Or even weeks ahead. Christmas always seems so far off when you agree to attend, but when the day arrives, it’s as if you’d rather be kneecapped than go. Sometimes, I wished I were an orphan like Hank.
One solace was that Maddie had insisted Hank come too. He sat in his carrier in the backseat and meowed, or “talked” as Sarah called it, the entire car ride. I had become unashamedly, if not surprisingly, attached to the little guy.
We arrived before my parents, so at first the evening was relaxed. Peter seemed at ease. Maddie had a cheese and sausage platter out, and all of us sat around nibbling and chatting. In the background, It’s a Wonderful Life was on TV. All in all, it wasn’t a bad night.
When I slipped into the kitchen to get another cocktail, Maddie followed.
As soon as we were out
of earshot, she slapped me on the back. “Why didn’t you tell me you got Sarah a ring for Christmas?”
I filled my glass with some vodka and mixed it with cranberry juice. “You never asked.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t spill. It’s a huge deal. And nice job with the ring. It’s beautiful.” Maddie grinned.
It struck me that her smile was too wide. She looked too happy. I had hoped that she wouldn’t notice the ring at all. “Thanks,” I said, feeling suddenly awkward. “It’s her birthstone. Why is it a big deal, though? It’s not a diamond.”
“It’s a piece of jewelry. Women love jewelry. And it’s a ring. She put it on her ring finger. Seriously, how do you not know this?” Maddie crossed her arms, waiting for me to respond.
I gulped my Cape Cod and stared at her. The bracelet Maddie had given me jangled on my wrist as I took another gulp. “She didn’t say much when she opened it. She just gave me a hug.”
“Have you noticed she keeps staring at it? She never even told me you got it for her. I could tell by the way she looked at it, and then at you.”
I made another Cape Cod. Why did some women have to make such a big deal about things? I had seen the ring and thought she would like it, end of story. But no, Maddie and Sarah had to ponder the meaning. What did the ring signify? What were my intentions? It was a gift—that was the intention. Why can’t people just give a gift? When Maddie had given me the bracelet, I hardly knew her. But I had been with Sarah for more than a year. I bought her gifts all the time. It was just a gift. She should know it was just a gift. Plus, it matched the necklace I got her for our anniversary.
My racing thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. Maddie’s face paled and my stomach flipped. Enter The Scotch-lady.
“Well, I guess the fun is over.” I made another drink for myself and one for Sarah, even if having another drink was probably a mistake.
I walked into the front room, still carrying the drinks, to see Peter fawning over my mother’s new outfit—yet another navy blue power skirt and blazer. Her white shirt looked so crisp it might crack in half. I shook my head. No one wanted to see that, I thought. Her hair was pulled back too tight in a bun. I wondered if she’d recently had work done.
“Oh great, you brought the cat.”
Hank took one look at the brittle Scotch-lady and jumped into Sarah’s lap.
I walked over to them and handed Sarah her drink before taking a seat on the armrest of her chair. Hank purred as I scratched his head. I still hadn’t said hello to my parents, and I wondered if I should even bother.
My father sat down on the couch and opened a magazine. Peter chatted to Mom. Maddie, sitting near us, said nothing.
Yes, I loved the holidays. The tension was so worth it. I tried not to remember that I could have been sitting in front of a roaring fire in a cabin in the mountains instead, absorbed in a good book, a drizzle of snow covering the ground. Stop it, Lizzie. You’re only torturing yourself.
After dinner, my parents stayed longer than was normal. I kept staring at my watch. When my mother left the room, I got up to get some quiet time in the kitchen. Maddie and Sarah were deep in conversation, so I didn’t think anyone would miss my company.
I stared out the window. The house was on a hill, overlooking Denver. Beyond, the city lights twinkled in the cold, cloudless night.
I heard the pad of feet entering the room, but ignored the intrusion. The person opened the back door of the kitchen. While trying to stay focused on the lights, I heard a weird shooshsing sound.
Turning, I saw my mother trying to push Hank out the door.
“What are you doing?” I rushed over and scooped the kitten up.
“I just thought he would like some fresh air.”
“Bullshit!”
Her eyes glistened with hatred.
“Hank is an indoor cat. There are coyotes and foxes everywhere out there.”
“What, you don’t want your precious child to make new friends?”
“He’s part of the family now. We don’t associate with those beneath us remember? You taught me that?”
She sniffed. “Well, he certainly didn’t learn that from you.”
“Meaning?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean. You’re always throwing it in my face.” She moved closer to me. “It’s because of you we can’t have bigger functions this time of year.”
“By all means, throw bigger functions. I don’t give a fuck if I don’t associate with you or your friends.”
“Come now, you two, play nice.” Maddie entered the room, hands on hips. Her voice was firm. Sarah was right behind her.
I glared at my mother for a second longer. Then I said, “Thank you Maddie, for the reminder. I wasn’t taught that by my parents.” I turned my back on Mom and prepared to leave the room.
My mother retorted, “I don’t even understand half of the stuff you say. If you want to say it, say it. Don’t hide behind snide remarks.”
I whirled to face her. Her words were bursting in my mind like bubbles. Bitch, coward, liar, cunt, two-faced whore—I wanted to shout. How I despised her. How I hated being related to her. How I wished she would—
Sarah took Hank from me, and I melted at her sorrowful eyes. No. It wasn’t the right time. I stalked out of the room and headed upstairs.
No one spoke. I heard the footsteps of their dispersal. A few minutes later, Sarah came upstairs and we went to bed.
Sarah’s final words for the night were, “Gotta love family time.”
I buried my head in the pillow. Hank jumped off the bed and hid in the closet, curled on a pile of clothes.
Surprisingly, the next morning went well. The four of us exchanged gifts. Peter and Maddie had opened their gifts for each other the day before as well.
I was surprised by the thoughtfulness of the gift Sarah had purchased for Maddie and Peter—a personalized basket that included wine, cheese, crackers, and other delicacies. She had also included a day spa voucher for the two of them. It was to the new, trendy spa that was all the rage. Even I had read about it in the paper, and I remembered Sarah and her mom talking about it at one of our dinners at Jay’s Bistro. I made a mental note to send Sarah and her mother to the spa for a day.
Maddie handed us our gift with a smile and said, “I guess we had similar ideas.”
Disappointed, I let Sarah open the gift. I didn’t want to go to a dreadful spa. Sarah took the lid off the box and squealed.
Dammit! I was sure we were going to the spa.
Sarah pulled a piece of paper out of the box and waved it at me. It wasn’t a spa. The gift certificate was for a weekend for two at Vail.
“I thought, since the two of you are out of school right now, you could use some time together.” Maddie smiled.
I was relieved. Getting a pedicure before sitting in a sauna did not appeal to me. And what’s up with drinking weird fruit, veggie, bee pollen, and wheat germ concoctions. No thanks!
“This is great! I can’t wait to get Lizzie on a pair of skis,” exclaimed Sarah.
Peter laughed. “She’s never skied in her life.”
“It’s true,” I told Sarah. “I haven’t. Can we snowshoe instead?”
“You’ll fall down no matter what, Elizabeth. You might as well go skiing and not be a pussy.”
I glared at Peter.
Sarah’s lips brushed my cheek and then she left the room with Maddie. Peter and I just glanced at each other, neither of us saying anything. My brother went into his office and I followed Sarah and Maddie into the kitchen to help them finish preparing dinner—prime rib, Peter’s favorite.
The three of us chatted, whiling away time.
“Maddie, I hope you don’t mind, but I brought Lizzie’s favorite.” Sarah went to the fridge and pulled out a bag. Then she plopped the parsnips onto the counter.
“She won’t go skiing, doesn’t listen to music, but she loves parsnips. You got yourself a weird one, Sa
rah.”
“Oh, I’m sure she has some positives. I keep hoping I see them some day.” She smiled at me.
“Really? I know she’s a workaholic, absorbed in her research ninety percent of the time.”
“That’s true. And the other ten percent she’s asleep. But I have to admit, she does clean Hank’s litter box every day.”
“Well, I’m obviously not appreciated here.” I interrupted. “If you’ll excuse my workaholic-self-absorbed ass, I’m going to hang with my cat and read about the Hitler Youth.”
Maddie called out after me as I left the room, “You can both be pussies together.”
I heard Sarah laugh. “And don’t forget to clean his box.”
Those two becoming closer made me uncomfortable. They seemed like old friends.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The two of us sat by the fireplace in our room in Vail. Maddie had splurged on a really nice condo in the heart of the town. Blanketed with fresh snow, Vail reminded me of a quaint, Dickensian village. Everyone was merry and enjoying themselves. The town bustled with activity, people running to and fro to the slopes, shops, and restaurants.
Everyone except us.
“Will you stop giggling?” I squirmed in my chair, trying to get comfortable. The fire was raging, but I was still freezing. “Can I take the ice bag off? I’m chilled to the bone.”
Sarah came over and took the ice from my elbow. “Wait until Peter hears about this.” She laughed again.
“Sarah! You better not tell Peter.”
“Don’t you think he’ll find out?” Her words had the whiff of betrayal. “We’re going to their house on New Year’s. It’s only a few days away.”
“I don’t have a cast. I can put the brace on my arm and cover it with a thick sweater. I don’t use my left arm all that much.”
“Lizzie, you grimace every time you move it.”
I looked at my elbow. When we had arrived, Sarah immediately wanted to go to town for lunch. Famished, I readily agreed. My mistake; I have never been known for my grace and adding ice to the mix made for a potentially dangerous situation. People in my family should only be around ice in cocktails. We were not athletes.
A Woman Lost Page 15