The Champagne Sisterhood

by Chris Keniston

  “Not in writing, but Mark and I are her godparents.”

  “You? You can’t be serious. What about the rest of the circus act?”

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “Anna, you’re upset. You’re not thinking clearly. Guardianship is a serious responsibility. Children are not part of our plans, especially not someone else’s child.”

  “This isn’t someone else, this is Babs and this is only temporary to get Marcia out of the hospital tomorrow. We’ll work out the details later.”

  “Temporary? I won’t argue when it comes to work you’re the best at what you do, but you and kids, babies--”

  “I don’t need you to remind me,” she cut him off, “but we have to do something and I am her godmother.”

  “That may be, but the courts are going to want something more.”

  “Babs said she wanted me to keep Marcia away from Social Services.”

  “She said? I thought she’s in critical condition.”

  “She came to briefly. Mumbled a few things. We were able to piece together what she was saying.”

  “Who’s we? Never mind. I think I know. Did anyone not part of the troupe hear her?”

  “The nurse and the doctor.”

  “Okay. That gives me something to start with. I’ll get back to you in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Harrison. I really appreciate this.”

  “Just make sure you’re back in time for the Hobart’s dinner party. Their endorsement will be key to our future.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Anna leaned back against the seat. “Thanks again. ‘Night.” Disconnecting the call, she let the phone fall into her lap.

  “Should I call my lawyer again?” Mark asked.

  “No. Harrison will make it happen. He always makes things happen.”

  “Everything will look better after you get some food in you and a good night’s sleep.”

  “He’s right.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t do kids and babies. I’m not mother material.” She paused looking out the window before turning back to him. “In junior high, I won a couple of gold fish at the school carnival. You know, the kind little kids bring home in a plastic bag and put in their mom’s favorite mixing bowl. Fish are supposed to be easy to take care of, a stepping stone to a kitten or puppy.”

  She waited a beat. When Mark gave a short nod she continued, “Mine died. I couldn’t even take care of a lousy pair of gold fish. Babs knows I have no maternal instincts. Why not pick Erin or Kat? Why did she pick me?”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, General. Lots of kids kill off their gold fish and grow up to make great parents.”

  Tipping her head to the side, her brows drew together. “General?”

  “You were great back there. You managed to accomplish everything I couldn’t. Like a general commanding his minions.”

  She let out an unladylike snort. “That still doesn’t make me mother material. I have no business being responsible for a ten month old baby.”

  “You love her mother and you love her. That’s reason enough. And Barb believes in you.”

  “Yeah. Too bad I don’t know what Babs knows.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Anna poked at the hastily cooked pasta with her fork. Babs had been the master of her kitchen. Every corner of the large space reflected a little of Babs.

  After her parents’ plane crash she and Tom had moved into the house she’d grown up in. The first thing Babs had done was remodel the kitchen- the heart of the home she would call it. Polished cherry cabinets with granite counters the shade of treetops wrapped around three sides of the room. A huge picture window overlooking the deck and backyard helped bring the feel of outdoors in. Modern amenities like stainless steel appliances and state of the art water filters meshed seamlessly with the colonial table and antique accessories. The room radiated warmth and love. It was contemporary yet old-fashioned. It was so Babs.

  For Anna, watching Kat and Erin cook dinner instead of Babs seemed too surreal. “It feels really weird not having them here. Being in their house without them. Knowing Tom will never be back.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Mark’s voice trailed away.

  “I’m sorry. Thanks for calling the funeral home. I don’t think I could have dealt with that on top of everything else today.”

  “Yes you could have.” He cleared his throat. “But Tom was my friend and business partner. It made sense for me to deal with it.” Squaring his shoulders, he met her gaze and waved his fork at her. “Now, are you going to eat that or play with it all night? It’s actually pretty good.”

  “Don’t let my mother hear you say that. To an Italian, sauce from a jar is sacrilegious.” Anna toiled, turning the fork around and around, wrapping a long strand she had no intention of tasting into a small, well-wound clump of pasta.

  “Your mom’s a good cook?”

  “Is the Pope Catholic?” One corner of her mouth twitched upward in a half-hearted attempt at a smile. “She still makes homemade canolis.”

  Erin looked up from across the table. “Oh, and what were those lovely crispy things she always makes for us when we visit?”

  “Pizzelles”

  “Babs loved those too.” Kat pushed the chair back, stood and carried her plate to the sink.

  “Like you didn’t.” Erin followed her, adding her dish to the pile.

  “Of course I did, but Babs could live on those things if Mrs. B. would let her.”

  Mark’s attention skipped from one friend to the other. “Anyone care to share what pizzelles are?”

  “It’s an Italian cookie, but looks more like a wafer thin waffle. Mostly butter, sugar, flour and of course brandy,” she answered.

  “Of course,” Mark nodded. Belying his solemn expression, a smile twinkled in his eyes.

  She hadn’t noticed before what an unusually deep shade of sapphire blue his eyes were. For a fraction of a moment, she forgot about everything else. “Anyhow,” she continued, setting her fork down on the plate, giving up the pretense of eating. “Mom sprinkles hers with powdered sugar.”

  “Sounds delicious.” He dropped a glance at her plate.

  “And addictive,” Kat added, dishes clinking noisily as she loaded the sleek stainless steel dishwasher.

  Mark pushed away from the table, gesturing at Anna’s barely touched food. “You should eat some more.”

  “I’m not very hungry. Too much on my mind. So much to work out.”

  “Assuming your boyfriend is as good as you say, there’s going to have to be a lot of changes starting tomorrow, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to eat today.”

  Anna blew out a heavy breath. Food was the last thing on her mind. What had she been thinking when she told Harrison to make her temporary guardian? Yes, she assured Babs she wouldn’t let them have Marcia, but that didn’t mean she had to be named guardian. “If the doctor is right and Babs isn’t going to be able to care for Marcia for a very long time, it makes more sense to have you appointed guardian. After all, the baby actually likes you.”

  Mark looked to Erin and Kat, then back to Anna. With his eyes wide as full moons, he brought his thumb to his chest. “Me?”

  Anna nodded.

  “I know this is a liberal state, but even California frowns on single men with no apparent female companion taking responsibility for young girls.”

  “She’s just a baby,” Erin said, her voice going up an octave.

  “And you...” Mark shrugged a shoulder. “Are a very nice person, but not everyone is.”

  “That’s disgusting.” Erin shuddered and turned to the sink, rinsing off another plate.

  “The world can be a disgusting place.” He paused, shaking his head. “No, Babs seemed to be talking to you, Anna. The four of you are best friends, yet Babs chose you for Marcia’s godmother.”

  “I’m sure she expected to have a house full of kids and give each of us a turn as godmother. She probably drew
our names out of a hat.”

  “I doubt that,” he mumbled, turning his back to the women.

  “Whose name is on the papers is inconsequential,” Kat chimed in. “What matters is what are we going to do tomorrow with a ten month old little girl whose mother is near death in the hospital?”

  “Don’t say that,” Erin leaned over and snapped the dishrag at her.

  Anna grabbed the rag from Erin before Kat struck back. All she needed was for one of them to forget their age and start a towel war. “Maybe we can ask the housekeeper to help. Marcia must be comfortable with her.”

  Kat shook her head. “I don’t think leaving Marcia with Luisa is a good idea.”

  “Me neither,” Erin agreed. Kat was still shaking her head.

  Anna lifted her hands, palms up. “Why?”

  First slanting a quick glance at Erin, Kat turned to Anna. “Well, we didn’t think it was worth mentioning, but when we got here today we had a somewhat hysterical housekeeper on our hands.”

  “Oh, crap. I hadn’t thought about that.” Anna dropped into the nearest chair. “How’s she holding up?”

  “She kept rambling in Spanish for God to forgive her it was all her fault.”

  “Her fault?” Anna looked to Mark. He’d known the woman longer than any of them. He merely shrugged, so she turned back to Kat. “Why was it her fault?”

  “Apparently she was late for work this morning. She knew Tom had a business dinner scheduled with Mark and a new client, so Babs would be driving him to the office. She feels if she’d been here on time, maybe Babs and Tom would have left sooner and avoided the accident. Or maybe they would have left the baby with her and Marcia wouldn’t have been stuck in the hospital.” Kat shook her head again.

  “She seemed to think we were lying to her and Marcia was really badly hurt,” Erin interjected.

  Anna tossed the dishtowel she’d been holding onto the table. “Then seeing that the baby is okay would be good for her.”

  “I don’t think so.” Kat shook her head again.

  “Would you stop that,” Anna snapped. “You look like one of those damn plastic dogs on the back window of an ancient Chevy. Except you’ve been crosswired and keep shaking no instead of bobbing yes.”

  “I’m telling you. It’s not a good idea. The lady is an emotional basket case. Even after we calmed her down and assured her we weren’t lying. She walked around the house making the sign of the cross every few seconds repeating, ‘hay Dios mio’.”

  “Oh, God.” Anna leaned on her elbow, dropping her forehead into her hand.

  “Exactly.” Kat folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the counter. “Five minutes in the same room with that woman and Marcia would know something was really wrong. I mean besides what the poor thing must already sense.”

  “So what you’re saying is three strangers are better than one slightly neurotic, though familiar, housekeeper?”

  “Yeah, that about sums it up.” Kat nodded.

  Anna turned to Mark again.

  He raised his hands and shook his head. “Don’t look at me. She works days. I barely know the woman.”

  “All right. Which one of you is more talented in the diaper changing department?” Anna watched in horror as Kat turned to wipe the counter for the ninth time and Erin, humming Tura-Lura-Lural, developed a sudden interest in the wallpaper.

  The low rumble of muffled laughter rolled across the room.

  “And what may I ask is so funny?” She whirled around to glare at Mark. He seemed to be practically eating his lips in an attempt not to laugh.

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” He hitched his shoulders, all wide-eyed and innocent-like.

  If she weren’t so terrified she would have laughed with him. “I strongly encourage you to wipe that stupid grin off your face.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He pressed his lips together tightly, swallowed a few times, and straightened to his full height.

  With unexpected grace for such a tall man, he eased across the room. Stopping beside her, his hand came to rest on her shoulder and for the first time all day, she felt as though everything would really be all right.

  “I have an idea.” He patted her shoulder. “Barb brought Marcia to the office all the time. She even has a playpen set up and a closet full of toys. Marcia knows everyone there and loves the attention she gets. Since I have a lot to do at work with Tom gone, and you ladies want to spend as much time as possible at the hospital with Barb, what if I take Marcia to the office after she’s released?”

  Mark slid his hands into his pockets, leaned against the nearby wall, crossed his ankles, and watched with fascination as the three women looked back and forth at each other.

  Anna raised an eyebrow. Erin shrugged a shoulder. Kat puckered her lower lip. The seconds quietly ticked as their gaze drifted from one to the other, and then it was Kat’s turn to raise a brow while Anna shrugged her shoulders. Without a single sound having been uttered, like some absurd human symphony, in perfect synchronization the three nodded and turned to him.

  “That, Mr. Lambert, is the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Anna crossed her arms, sporting the first real smile he’d seen since her arrival. A very nice smile indeed.

  “Damn.” Anna slammed the phone down and grabbed the cup of coffee she’d poured before Harrison’s call. She’d been up half the night reading through some of Babs’ baby books and desperately needed an infusion of caffeine. More than this one mug would offer.

  Erin came running down the stairs. “What’s the matter?”

  “I have to be in Redwood City in less than an hour.” Anna took a fast gulp and rushed past Erin in the hall, sloshing coffee along the way. “I need something to wear.”

  “Redwood City?” Erin did an about face and hurried up the stairs behind her. “What for?”

  “Family court. I’ve got to meet with Judge Abercrombie, or was it Applebee?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Right. I’ve got a guardianship hearing.” She ran into the guestroom and flipped Kat’s luggage lid open. Thank God they were the same size. “I need clothes.”

  “Herp yerseff.” Kat stood in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush handle sticking out of the side of her mouth.

  “She’s got to be in court in an hour, guardianship,” Erin explained.

  Spitting into the sink, Kat tossed the toothbrush down and bolted into the room. “I didn’t bring court clothes.”

  “Who does?” Anna picked up a pair of faded jeans.

  “Here. These pants should look great on you.” Kat held up a pair of black linen slacks.

  “Do you think I should wear a dress? I mean, don’t mothers wear dresses?”

  Kat and Erin stole a quick glance at each other before looking back at Anna. “You’re never going to look like June Cleaver,” Kat said.

  “Overkill?” Anna scrunched one side of her face, holding the slacks against her with one hand and a long-sleeve gray silk shirt in the other.

  Erin turned her wrist up to see the time. “Fifty minutes and counting.”

  “Okay. Black slacks it is.” Anna stepped into the pants.

  “Shall I check if Babs has a black jacket to complete the outfit?” Erin asked. Anna and Kat shot a sharp glare in her direction. “Okay, dumb question. Of course she has a black jacket. Be right back.”

  Five minutes later, running a brush through her hair, Anna ran out the front door. “See you at the hospital. Wish me luck.”

  “Break a leg.” Kat smiled.

  “Yeah, break two.” Erin waved.

  The bruising on Babs’ face was getting uglier. Erin looked at all the machinery surrounding her friend and swallowed the urge to cry. She’d fallen asleep last night with her face in her pillow so no one would hear the sobs. That feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn’t going away, and she feared she’d never again get the chance to tell Babs how much better her life had been because of her. Glancing at her watch for the umpteenth time, she looked to Kat on
the other side of the bed, tapping away at the keys on her netbook. “Do you think everything went okay?”

  “I’m sure it’s fine. I mean, why wouldn’t a judge appoint Anna guardian? Think of it, of the three of us, she’s the most logical choice.”

  “You think?”

  “Well, sure. How much money do Dallas school teachers make nowadays?”

  “Enough.” Erin bobbed her head, then sighed. “But I wouldn’t want to try and raise a child alone on my income, and my apartment isn’t all that big either.”

  “Exactly.” Kat closed the lid on her netbook. “Freelance travel-writing pays the bills, but if I didn’t have people to share expenses I’d be living in a box on the seedy side of Miami. Besides I’m not sure that even a California judge would think too much of a perpetual grad student, an overworked cocktail waitress and a gay wannabe interior decorator as ideal roommates for parenting material.”

  “That’s silly. Nothing precludes any of your roommates from having children of their own. Well... ” Erin giggled. “Except maybe for the gay guy. But still, I’m sure they’d all make great parents.”

  “So the fact that Anna has a six figure income, lives on Park Avenue and has been in a stable relationship for almost five years doesn’t make her the best candidate?”

  “If you put it that way. Yes, it does make more sense,” Erin agreed. “Do you think the fact that none of us live in California is a problem?”

  “Not so long as we agree to stay near Babs.”

  “I can’t stay away from work for long. I might have to figure out a way to fly back and forth.” Erin looked at Babs lying so still and tears filled her eyes. “I just want her to wake up. You know, sit up and tell us everything will be just fine.”

  Arms extended and tears brimming in her own eyes, Kat sprang from her seat, practically falling into Erin’s embrace. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Erin hugged her friend with everything she had.

  “Some party you people throw.” Anna stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “Don’t get me started. My mascara’s not waterproof.”