by Mara Jacobs
Part of the reason was that the house, a grand Southern-style estate, was always dressed to the nines in holiday trimmings. Each year, Mom had a theme to her decor and this year, apparently, it was The Holly & The Ivy, Plus Angels. Glittering red and green holly swagged the front entrance, gold ivy curved around the banisters. Ivy topiaries trimmed with tiny red ribbons and lit by tiny white and green lights sat on the foyer table. A huge glittering tapestry of angels hung on the two-story wall above the table. And she could see a trio of elegant silver celestial beings on the fireplace mantel in the living room.
“Honey, I’m home!” Tess called gaily, dropping her Balenciaga bag on the floor and poking her head into Dad’s study.
“Hi, sweet pea,” he said, rising quickly from his desk chair. “Welcome home.” He said the words reverently, as if she’d been gone for years. So he knew. She hadn’t told him much, but somehow he knew.
They met halfway across the room, and he looked into her eyes as if to take measure of her well-being. Then he pulled her into a tight embrace, stroking her hair like he’d done when she was little. He smelled like her daddy and she inhaled the comfort and familiarity. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Tess had managed to keep it all under control the whole day—while she was at the hospital being Belle, at Birdie’s showing off fancy headpieces, talking to Deanne downtown…but now that she was home, there was no need. To her horror, she felt her eyes begin to sting and she hugged her father tighter. “Thanks, Dad,” she murmured. “I needed that.”
“I have a feeling you need this too, honey.”
Tess turned to find her mom coming into the room, holding a big glass of red wine. She took the glass then flowed into another embrace, this time with her petite, familiar-scented mother. “Thanks, Mom,” she said, taking care not to slop what was surely a zinfandel on her mother’s crisp white slacks.
“You okay?” Mom asked, lifting Tess’s chin even though she was five inches shorter than her daughter. Her gaze delved into hers just as Dad’s had, then she nodded. “You will be.” She gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“I will. I’m so glad to be home for the party tonight. I thought….” Her voice wobbled, but she held it together. “I thought this would be the first year I’d miss it. Ever.” Silly. Stop being such a wuss! Last year was the worst, when she realized she was going to have to divorce Barry.
But it had taken her almost six more months to make that decision.
“Sit, Tess. You’ve got about five minutes before Annabelle the whirlwind shows up—and, oh, wait till you hear about that,” Mom said. Her sea-green eyes danced merrily. “She was blazing into town as usual in that little hot rod—and, well…your baby sister’s streak’s been broken.”
“Really?” Tess asked, a smile tugging her lips. “Annabelle met her match, huh? It’s about time.” She sipped, then hummed with delight at the rich woodsy, berry flavor. “Ah. Thanks. I really did need that. What about Gracie—where is she? Off to Target, shopping for a dress?” Her smile turned into an affectionate laugh.
“She’s upstairs trying to figure out what to wear,” Dad replied with a sad shake of his head, sipping a rock glass filled with Scotch. Of the entire Devine family, including their patriarch, Grace was the only one who was clueless when it came to fashion and style. If she could, she’d wear jeans and a white t-shirt every day, just for the simplicity of it.
“She called me, wanting to know when I was going to get here so I could protect her from Belly.” They all laughed together and Tess felt another pang: this one of emptiness and yet comfort, all rolled into one.
Her parents had been married for forty years, and were still as much in love as they had been when they wed. They were a united front who understood each other, adored their daughters, and yet expected the best from each of their very different offspring. They had each other.
“Tell us about it, sweet pea,” Dad said, patting Tess’s knee.
She drew in a deep breath and looked at them both. “Well, it’s been a little rough. The divorce. I mean, for me. Barry’s been his normal self.” She smiled grimly. “But I’m fine. It hasn’t really hit the big press yet—only a few small outlets have picked it up. So some people know, but a lot of others don’t. It probably won’t go big, either, so that makes it a little easier.”
No one had ever said anything overtly negative about the man she married two New Year’s Eves ago during the party, but she’d sensed the distance between him and her family. And in retrospect, she understood why. They’d seen what she’d been blind to: his condescension, his attempt to control and change her, and, worst of all, his propensity for “mentoring” young actresses. On the couch.
“The divorce should be final by the end of March, but you know as far as I’m concerned, things have been over for a year. And…I left the show. I’m leaving the theater.”
There. I said it.
Mom’s eyes widened. She took Dad’s rock glass from his hand and gulped a big swallow. When she brought the glass away she said, “You’re leaving the theater?”
“Well, I’m leaving the stage. I’m just not…happy anymore. I know I should be grateful for the opportunity I’ve had, the little bit of success I’ve gleaned—”
“And your date with Matthew Morrison,” Mom threw in. “He was a gentleman, wasn’t he?”
Tess gave a short chuckle. “That was pretty awesome. And yes he was—unfortunately. That man is ripped. But there are thousands of young women who’d give anything to take my place onstage. And they probably already have,” she added ruefully. “But—I’m almost twenty-nine, and thirty’s just around the corner. Not old, but—I want a family. A normal life. I thought I was going to be able to do that with Barry, but…yeah. That didn’t work out.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Dad, just watching her.
She drew in another breath and smiled. “I’m going to do some producing, actually. Maybe being married to a director gave me the idea; I don’t know. I’ve got some options with a couple smaller shows…in New York, but also in Chicago or Atlanta. You know I’ll be good at that—bossy as I am. And that will give me more time to work with EverFun.”
“You do enjoy that, don’t you?” Mom said. She didn’t look quite as shocked anymore. “You just light up whenever you talk about all the things you’ve done with that foundation—visiting the children in the hospitals, doing the fundraisers, the media interviews—everything.”
“You’ll be able to give your name to the Foundation, and that’s good visibility for them,” Dad said. “I think it’s wonderful, sweet pea.”
“Exactly. So—wait, is that Belly?” Tess stood, looking out Dad’s study window. Sure enough, the bright red sports car was rumbling up the long drive toward the circle. She grinned, suddenly feeling lighter than she had in a long while. “Let’s go hear about the cop who broke her streak!”