There were too many presents, which ranged from dresses, pajamas, shoes, jeans, tops, sweaters, and jewelry for the girls; to a sweetheart diamond necklace from Brock to Madison, who immediately hugged and kissed him for it; and then a black Dior suit that Alex and I had purchased for Blackwell, because frankly, I thought that she needed to change things up a bit. It couldn’t be Chanel all of the time.
“What is this?” she said as she held it up in front of her.
“You know damn well what it is,” I said.
“Dior? That’s lesser than Chanel. Why is my day already starting to turn dark around the edges? Dying would be the only reason to stop wearing Chanel. But even then, it’s in the will—Daniella and Alexa are supposed to bury me in it. Otherwise, they’ll get disinherited.”
“Just so you know, lovecat, I had that suit made for you.”
“Made for me?”
“It was designed specifically for you. There is no other one like it in the world.”
And when I said that, her eyes brightened. “You mean—this isn’t off the rack?”
“Do you really think I’d ever dare to buy you something that was off the rack?”
“Of course you would. You hail from the bowels of Maine, for God’s sake. Who knows when your sordid roots will spring up and try to leach the life out of me?”
“That suit you’re holding is an original couture design made only with you in mind. Last August, I started working with one of the senior designers at Dior on it. As in four months ago. I sketched out the original drawing, and then he and I collaborated to improve upon it. And now it’s yours.”
“Oh, snap!” Daniella said.
“Well,” Blackwell said, clearly taken aback and surprised. “I had no idea. You did this for me? You actually reached out to Dior for an original creation that only I will have?”
“And I went a step further. Open the other box that’s at your feet.”
When she did, she pulled out a pair of black strapless Dior shoes that also were made specifically for her.
“I’ve been working on those since last July. And I might have also sketched out the design for those.”
She dangled the shoes in front of her and admired them. “Well, I don’t know what to say other than that they’re absolutely divoon. You outdid yourself, Jennifer. I mean, God. Naturally, I’ve worn couture before, but never anything that was designed specifically with me in mind. And I have to say, my darling girl, that you nailed it. I can’t imagine the trouble you went through to make this happen, so thank you. J’adore. I’ll wear the suit and the shoes tonight at dinner, assuming that they’ll fit.”
“I know your size as well as I know my own name. Believe me—everything will fit.”
And onward we rolled until there were only two other presents left beneath the tree, which I’d made certain would be given out last. One was for Alex from me, and the other was to Cutter from Alex.
“Cutter,” Alex said, pointing to the deep blue box adorned with the silver bow. “That one is from me to you.”
“Here, let me get it for you,” Daniella said, reaching for the gift and handing it to him. “Who knows what it will be?” she said. “Maybe it’s a bronze star, because you certainly deserve one after what you did for us on that island.”
“I was just doing my job,” he said.
“You went above and beyond your job,” Alex said. “So, you know—go ahead and open your gift. I chose it myself.”
Cutter opened the package and pulled out a Royal Oak Concept Laptimer Michael Schumacher watch, which was as masculine as it was handsome.
“Oh, my,” Blackwell said. “Well deserved, my dear boy. A Michael Schumacher—I recognize it on sight. And at a cost of a quarter of a million, no less. Wear it with pride, because my daughter is correct—you earned that watch after what you did for us.”
Cutter turned the watch over in his hands, and then he looked over at Alex.
“If this watch is that expensive, you know that I can’t accept it,” he said. “I appreciate the gesture, Alex, but I was on the job at the time. It was my duty to do what I did. It would be unethical of me to accept this for that reason.”
“No, it wouldn’t, because you went above and beyond your job. Tank told you that the plane was about to blow. He told you not to go anywhere near it, and still you put your life on the line and fought on. Everyone in this room who was on that island knows that you smashed through the boundaries of your job. So, I won’t hear another word of it—that watch is yours. And just to put this into perspective, Cutter, you saved several lives on that island, while I’m only giving you a watch. What I need you to know from my heart is that we are grateful for all that you did for us, and continue to do for us. So, please—accept it without another word.”
“All right,” he said. “And thank you, Alex. I never expected anything like this.”
“And I never expected any employee of mine to step up in the ways that you did for me, my family, and our friends, so thank you again for that.”
“Try it on,” Daniella said. “It’s kind of sexy. Alexa and I went to see ‘Spectre’ last week, and it kind of reminds me of something that James Bond would wear.”
“I can see that,” Alexa said.
“It’s great looking, that’s for sure,” Cutter said. When he removed his own watch and replaced it with the Michael Schumacher, he held out his wrist and turned it slowly from left to right. “It’s heavy,” he said. “Which I like. It feels substantial. And check out the gears, Daniella—you can see pretty much all of them.”
“It’s like a puzzle,” she said. “But one that’s been revealed.”
“And now for Alex,” I said.
“But you’ve already given so much this morning,” he said. “From the suits to the shoes—and, Jesus, to everything else in between.”
“And yet I might have saved the best for last. Daniella, would you mind reaching for that last package and handing it to Alex?”
“Of course not.”
When she gave it to him, I shot Alex a look of anticipation. “What does one give a man who has everything? Let me tell you that’s been no small challenge. But I think I might have met it. So, you know, open your gift.”
As he did, I held my breath and hoped beyond hope that he would like what was inside.
“What are these?” he said when he lifted the top off the box and looked inside.
“The fanciest cufflinks I could find. I know how you love to wear them, but you’ve got nothing even remotely close to anything that look like these.”
“Well, let’s see them, for God’s sake,” Blackwell said. “What do they look like?”
Alex lifted one of them from the box, and the women in the room swooned.
“They’re a pair of Fonderie 47 transforming cufflinks designed by Roland Iten,” I said. “There are only twenty in existence.”
“They kind of look like a watch,” Alexa said.
“Good eye, Alexa—Fonderie 47 makes watches. These are the easiest cufflinks in the world to use. You just need to slip them over the cuffs of your sleeves and clasp them as if you were putting on a watch.”
“And you found these without my assistance?” Blackwell said.
“I am capable of finding a gift for my husband.”
“Apparently,” she said. “And I have to say that they’re beautiful. Very masculine. Very now. What are they made of?”
“Eighteen carat rose and white gold—as well as metal from an AK-47 assault rifle.”
“As well as a what?”
“You heard me.”
“Cool,” Cutter said.
“But I don’t understand,” Blackwell said. “How can that even be?”
“Here’s the deal,” I said. “And listen up, Alexa, because you’re especially going to get a charge out of this. When I purchased them, I was told that the sale would go toward raising funds for organizations that actively destroy guns in Africa, where they often are used to murder women
and children.”
“I’m loving this already,” Alexa said.
“I thought that you would. The sale of just one pair of these cufflinks is enough to fund the purchase and destruction of one hundred assault rifles in Africa. From what I’ve read about the company in the Times, that claim is true. Fonderie 47 has actively destroyed over two-thousand assault rifles by selling just twenty pairs of these cufflinks. I know that doesn’t sound like a lot, but it’s something, and through its many other products, the company has banished an additional thirty-thousand AK-47’s from Africa. So,” I said to Alex with a kiss on his lips, “I hope that you like them, on all levels.”
“I love them,” he said. “And you. Thank you.”
“There’s something else in the box...” I said. “Just beneath the tissue paper.”
He whisked the paper aside, and when he did, he paused when he saw what was inside.
“Well, what is it?” Blackwell asked.
“It’s an antique key,” he said. “One that’s been inlaid with rubies...”
“Might we see it?” she said.
He removed it from the box, held it in the palm of his hand for a moment, and then showed it to the room.
“It’s beautiful,” Madison said. “But what is it?”
“It’s the key to my heart,” I said. “All dressed up in red.”
“Oh, brava, my dear,” Blackwell said. “Well done, indeed!”
“You see, this is why I love you,” Alex said. “Who would have thought of doing something as meaningful and as unique as this? I think that this is my favorite gift you’ve ever given to me—beyond your love.”
“Now I’m going to cry,” Daniella said.
“Cry on Cutter’s shoulder,” I said. “Meanwhile, I’m going to kiss my man.”
And when I did, Blackwell instructed everyone to just look away before “you catch on fire from the sheer sordidness of it all!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
BREAKFAST WAS A FEAST, and it went off without a hitch. Marcus came and continued to casually tease and flirt with Blackwell, who was nothing if not flustered by it. Then, when the meal was over and Marcus was gone, Madison took me by the arm.
“It’s nearly noon,” she said. “We’ve got a meal to make.”
“Indeed, we do. Let me grab Alex while you get Brock.”
“He’s already in the kitchen.”
“Then you’re a step ahead of me. We’ll be there in seconds!”
And we were. After I asked Daniella and Alexa to set the dining room table for us—under Blackwell’s supervision—Alex and I joined Madison and Brock in the kitchen, where the caterers had left food for a proper Christmas dinner purchased from a list I’d given them earlier.
“Good God,” Alex said as he looked into the refrigerator. “How much food do we need?”
“You and Brock can just overlook our twenty-pound turkey and everything else that’s in the fridge. Just focus on your pies, because Madison and I will tend to the rest.”
“Beyond the turkey and the stuffing, what are you two making?” Alex asked.
“Roasted carrots, the Contessa’s gravy, and her potato and fennel gratin. Since Alexa is a vegetarian, she can enjoy the carrots and the gratin, but she needs more to eat than that, so we’re making her a killer wild mushroom risotto with parmesan cheese.”
“Alexa eats dairy?”
“She does.”
“That sounds great,” Brock said.
“How about you two?”
“Alex and I are going to make Michelle’s apple pie, her chocolate cream pie, and her pear clafouti.”
“And that sounds decadent,” I said. “So, let’s get to it.”
“Brock,” Alex said. “You know what to do.”
“The dough.”
“That’s right—you’re better at it than I am. I’ll start peeling the apples.”
“We can’t disappoint,” I said as I hauled the turkey out of the fridge and set it on one of the two islands.
“We won’t,” Alex said. “The four of us have each other’s backs. We’ve got this.”
AND WE DID.
An hour into making the dinner, we were making great progress, so much so that all of us felt comfortable enough to get out of our heads and actually talk to one another. We’d been so focused on what needed to get done, none of us had said much of anything to one another that didn’t have to do with cooking the meal.
“How’s it going with the gratin?” I asked Madison.
“It’s looking good.”
“It smells amazing. And this Maine girl has been watching you—clearly, the ladies from Wisconsin know how to cook.”
“It’s practically been drilled into us.”
“And look at me,” Brock said. “The happy recipient.”
Madison blew him a kiss when he said that while I focused on her dish.
She really was an excellent cook. She’d used a mandolin to slice the potatoes at exactly the right thickness, sautéed the onion and the fennel until they were just tender, and shredded the Gruyère cheese in one of the Cuisinarts. Now, after mixing all of the ingredients with heavy cream, salt, and pepper in a giant bowl, I watched her pour the lot of it into an enormous white baking dish that would serve all of us.
“Damn this bowl is heavy,” she said.
“Do you need some help?” Brock asked.
“Maybe later tonight, I will,” she said.
“You two are killing me,” I said.
She giggled at that, and then pressed down everything into the baking dish before finishing it off with several handfuls of more Gruyère.
“Done!” she said.
“And well done—it looks perfect.”
“Now for the carrots,” she said after she’d washed her hands.
“Behind you in the fridge.”
“Got them. And then the risotto, which really needs to be made at the last minute.”
“It does,” I said. “Otherwise—sheer ruin.”
“By the way,” Madison said. “Did any of you notice how tense Blackwell seemed at breakfast this morning?”
“I did,” I said.
“Same here,” Alex said. “I don’t think she knows what to make of Marcus.”
I looked over at him. “I think it goes deeper than that—I think she doesn’t know whether she can trust another man after Charles.”
“Marcus seems like such a great guy,” Madison said as she started to cut the carrots on the diagonal. “He’s smart, he’s successful, he’s charming, and he’s handsome. Beyond that, he really seems to like her. It was subtle this morning, but that man was flirting with her.”
“And Blackwell wasn’t herself,” I said. “Last night, they talked for hours. And while they still talked throughout breakfast, I could sense a shift in her. Is she second-guessing this? I’m not sure. I don’t know how this is going to turn out.”
“Let’s just hope for the best,” Alex said.
“Agreed.” I looked over at Madison. “So, when are you and Brock going to move in with each other? It’s about time, isn’t it?”
“Ummm...” Brock said.
“Too soon?” I asked.
Before he could respond, someone’s cell rang. All of us looked at each other, but then Madison held up her hands and reached for her phone in her pants pocket. She looked down at the name on the screen and immediately smiled. “It’s Rhoda!”
“I love Rhoda,” Brock said.
“Isn’t she your clairvoyant friend?” I asked.
“She is—and I adore her. She’s my closest girlfriend in the world. I’ll make this very quick.” She answered the phone. “Rhoda!” she said. “Merry Christmas! I was going to call you after we’d finished making Christmas dinner. What’s that? You want me to put you on speakerphone? Why? Well, you certainly sound bossy today. OK, you’re now on speaker. All of us can hear you—so speak.”
“Hi, everyone,” she said. “And Merry Christmas! Alex and Jennifer, we have
n’t met yet, but this is Rhoda, Madison’s best friend and roommate—in that order.”
“How do you even know that Alex and I are here?” I asked.
“A question for the universe. But before we get into the reason for my call, let me save you from what will become an absolute disaster if you don’t listen to me, Jennifer. That oven you’re working with might be a fancy Viking, but it runs hot. Turn down the temperature from 375 to 325. Cook the bird for four hours, and then cover it with foil for thirty minutes so it can rest and reabsorb the juices. Trust me—if you do that, you’ll be sending me flowers tomorrow, because that Butterball of yours will carve as if it’s softened butter.”
“Do whatever she says,” Madison said. “Because she’s never wrong when it comes to things like this.”
“Thank you, Rhoda!” I said.
“My pleasure. Now, listen to me. Let’s just get right to the bottom of the reason why I’m calling. Jennifer, it will be a full nine months before Madison leaves me for Brock. Until then, she still will live with me. And thank the universe for that, because as happy as I am for her and Brock, it’s going to kill me to see her go. I plan on treasuring the rest of our time together.”
“How do you know that Jennifer just asked that question?” Alex asked.
“Because it’s the burden I’ve been born with, Alex. And by the way—love the cufflinks Jennifer gave you, but it was the key inlaid with rubies that filled my heart and made me pour myself an early glass of wine.”
“Holy shit!” I said. “She is the real thing.”
“She’s got it like that,” Madison said.
“I have to say that I’m kind of disappointed, Rhoda,” Brock said. “I was hoping that Madison and I would be moving in sooner than that.”
“Not happening. She’s mine for the next nine months—so cool your heels, big boy. She’ll be yours in September. And then you’re going to have me on your doorstep every other day.”
“I wish that you were here with us now,” he said.
“While I’d love to be with you and especially to meet Jennifer and Alex, Alexa, Blackwell, Daniella, and Tucker—”
“It’s actually ‘Cutter’,” I said.
Holiday: Annihilate Him, #4 Page 17