Chapter 4
Laura
I stacked my cue cards, tapping the bottom of them on the kitchen counter, and then paced the floor between my island and dining room table.
“Ladies and Gentlemen. I am pleased to welcome you back to the fifth annual fundraiser for Laura’s Haven. Your attendance is greatly appreciated and I am grateful for your continued support and determination to make this foundation a success. It is my pleasure to welcome our new donors this year, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzhuberts.” I paused, looking down at the cards. No matter how many times I’d run through my speech I couldn’t pronounce the name of one of the couples who were new attendees this year. “Fitsburt. No. Fitshubertusson? Ugh,” I groaned, rubbing my temples. I was never going to get it right.
I put the cue cards face down and walked away from them, needing a distraction. More than a little stressed, I made my way upstairs to my bedroom. I passed my gown, which was hanging on the back of my closet door, winking at me in all its rhinestone studded glory, and went into the bathroom to wash my face. I exfoliated and moisturized.
Then my cell phone started to ring, from all the way back downstairs, of course. I padded my face dry and hurried back down to answer my phone. “Hey Ella,” I said.
“You sound out of breath.”
“I just ran down the stairs.”
“Ran?”
“Yes, I know. I had to hurry otherwise I’d miss your call.”
Ella laughed softly. “Okay. Okay. How are you? Ready for tomorrow?”
“No. I can’t pronounce the last name of the new—”
“Fitzhubertussen,” Ella said effortlessly.
“Wait. Say that one more time.”
Ella repeated the name, and then I tried. This went back and forth a couple of times until I managed to say it cohesively. Then I said it nearly thirty times over, committing it to memory.
“You should write it down phonetically,” Ella suggested.
“Huh?”
Ella sighed. “On your cue cards. Spell it out how it sounds rather than how it’s spelled. That will make it easier for you to pronounce if you’re nervous.”
“Clever.”
“You’re welcome. Now have a glass of wine or three, like me. It will help mellow you out.”
I giggled. “Good advice. How are you doing? Are you ready?” As Ella answered I went about pouring myself a glass of Merlot.
“I’m good, I think. The nerves come and go. Sometimes I’m super calm and the next minute I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest. But, like every year, I know we’ll be fine once we get there and the evening begins.”
“When there’s no more time left to worry,” I said, taking a sip of wine. The first one was always the best.
“Exactly. And I’m optimistic. Maybe I’ll meet a handsome billionaire this year and he’ll whisk me away from this life and we can spend our days on a beach in Bali.”
“Bali, huh?”
“Or Tahiti. Or Fiji. I’m not picky, really.”
“Perfect. That’s what billionaires go for, right?”
Ella laughed. “I wouldn’t know.”
I dropped down on my sofa and pulled a white fluffy blanket over my lap. Kicking my feet up on the coffee table, I sank into the back of the sofa and put my phone on speaker. “You know, walking out with a billionaire wouldn’t be so bad. I could convince him to give money to our cause. Then the children’s home would definitely happen.”
“And it would be boujee as hell.”
I snorted. We both cascaded into a fit of laughter. “Canopy beds for all.”
“And three ply toilet paper.”
“Yes!” I cried. My wine sloshed dangerously to the edge of the wine glass. “And a library. And a computer and private room for every child.”
“Now we’re really dreaming.”
“A billion dollars can get you a lot.”
Ella sighed. “It sure could. Well. Considering that neither of us were born into money, and had to put ourselves through school, we’ve done pretty well for ourselves. Don’t you think?”
“Hell yes,” I said. “Let’s do a shot to that tomorrow night.”
“Before or after your speech?”
I pursed my lips. “I’ll let you know how I feel about that tomorrow.”
“Alright. I’m going to hold you to it though. One shot.”
“Deal.”
I could hear Ella sipping her wine through the phone. She swallowed. “Maybe getting our drink on tomorrow night is what will attract the wealthy men to us. Care free women and all.”
“Irresponsible women. We’re the hosts. We have to keep it professional.”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts.”
Ella groaned. “Fine. But do you want to know what the real dream would be?” When I didn’t answer she continued with her train of thought. “Love. Can you imagine being in love with a guy worth more than a billion dollars?”
“Life isn’t a romance novel, Ella. How many glasses of wine have you had?”
“Only two.”
“Maybe you should call it quits.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Ella snapped playfully. “But I’m serious. What about love. I think we’ve both missed out on plenty of opportunities because we’ve been so busy with the foundation. Don’t you ever wonder about it?”
“About love?” I asked, skeptically.
“Yes.”
I shrugged even though she couldn’t see me. “Not really.”
“What? Seriously?”
“Seriously. It’s overrated, El. I’ve tried and failed miserably. Every guy I’ve ever dated has only ever wanted something from me, or liked the idea of being with me.”
“Well, those guys weren’t worth your time.”
“I don’t think any guy is,” I said, as I rolled my wine around in my glass. I finished the last four mouthfuls.
Ella scoffed. “You can’t say you’re done with love if you’ve never felt it.”
“Sure I can. I have other things to worry about. It’s not everyone’s journey to find a guy, Ella. I learned that a long time ago. I don’t have to follow that traditional path. I’m more than happy with my life the way it is and with who I have in it.”
“Sounds like a way to protect yourself from getting hurt.”
“Or from getting distracted,” I said. “Kids are depending on me. I want to dedicate my time and energy to them. Not to some guy.”
“Alright, forget I said anything.” Ella said. We were both quiet for a minute. I untangled myself from beneath my white blanket and went back to the kitchen where I poured myself another glass. If Ella could hear what I was doing she didn’t say anything about it. Instead she asked, “Are you still coming to my mom and dad’s place on Christmas day?”
“If the invite is still there,” I said, as I screwed the cap back on the wine bottle. I didn’t buy corked wine. Too much effort.
“Of course it is. They’re looking forward to having you. I usually go over to their house around ten in the morning. You’re welcome to come over anytime.”
“I was thinking later in the afternoon. Maybe around three?”
“Sure thing. But you can come earlier if you want. We just have a low key start with coffee and pastries, oh and gifts. It’s nice. I think you’d like it.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“Have you heard from your mom and dad this week?”
My parents were off on a whirlwind adventure. They’d been travelling the world via a cruise ship, which sailed across the globe and stopped at over one hundred and twenty different ports. If my memory was correct their itinerary had them currently in Australia.
“They sent me an email on Monday. They’re having a great time. I think my mom is getting a little sick of the cramped cabin, but it’s a small price to pay for being able to see so much.”
“Do you miss them?” Ella asked.
“Terribly,” I admitted.
Christmas without my family was going to be hard. It was something we’d talked about when they first told me they were considering this trip. They didn’t want to leave me behind to spend Christmas alone.
But I’d steadfastly assured them that I could handle spending one Christmas alone. They couldn’t give up such a great opportunity all because I wasn’t willing to be by myself for the holidays. When Ella’s family had stepped up and offered to include me in their festivities it eased my mother’s mind.
I never voiced aloud how badly I wished they were going to be home for Christmas. It was my favorite time of the year and spending the time from Christmas Eve through New Year’s at my mom and dad’s house was the highlight for me. I liked feeling like a kid again for a time. I slept in my old room, woke up and stayed in pajamas all day, and indulged in treats and plenty of food over the seven day period. We’d play games, drink too much wine, and nurse our fat heads in the morning with cups of tea and slices of cranberry lemon loaf.
“They’ll be home before you know it,” Ella said, in an obvious effort to make me feel better.
“Yeah. I hope so. May feels very far away now.”
“It is far away, babe. But you can do it. And when you need company I’m only just a phone call away.”
I smiled. “I know. Thanks Ella. I love you.”
“Love you too. Now, we better get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
Chapter 5
Max
The stares I received from people on the sidewalk outside of The Java Corner were a common occurrence. My Huayra definitely didn’t blend in with the middle class environment. The sidewalks here were beat up, and people dressed in casual urban clothes like distressed jeans and combat boots. My suit, tie, jacket and Italian sports car didn’t belong. Neither did my Rolex or hairstyle, for that matter.
But I didn’t give a damn.
I hopped up on the curb and beeped the car alarm as I crossed the sidewalk to the coffee shop. In one hand I held the container of curry that Keith had sent me off with. It was still warm and had fogged up inside, making the contents almost impossible to see.
A bell chimed above my head when I stepped inside and it was like walking into an invisible wall. The smell of coffee flooded my nose, and after I stood there for a minute I picked up on other scents—cranberries, chocolate, vanilla and more I couldn’t quite identify.
Catherine, my younger sister by two years, was standing behind the cash register ringing up a customer—the only other customer in the cafe. He was a middle aged man I’d seen in here a few times before. He ordered the same thing every time, a hazelnut latte with extra foam. He would sit in the corner seat by the window and read, while occasionally glancing up to watch people walk by.
My sister caught my eye over his shoulder as she reached for his change. She gave me a smile and nodded at the display case, which was her way of saying ‘pick what you want, it’s on the house.’
She looked good tonight. Her long black hair was swept off her face in a neat bun and her green eyes were bright and clear. The apron tied around her waist was stained with coffee and wet spots from leaning against the counters.
Catherine moved behind the espresso machine as her customer went and claimed his customary table by the window. I stepped up to the counter and scanned the pastry display.
“It’s late,” Catherine said, as she pulled espresso shots and steamed milk.
“I know. Keith and Hayden were especially chatty tonight. Brought you some curry,” I said, as I held the container out of her reach, then put it on the counter between us.
Catherine arched an eyebrow. “Is that Mom’s recipe?”
“Yeah. Keith took a stab at it. Not bad, I must say. Not as spicy, but that’s alright.”
She nodded knowingly. “Keith could never handle spice. Neither could Hayden. Mom changed the recipe when they moved in, remember?”
“Oh, I remember. We were miffed about it for weeks.”
Catherine grinned as she poured the milk over the shots and hazelnut syrup. Then she called out to the customer, who hurried over to claim his latte. He thanked her and returned to his spot while happily sipping foam from the edge of the cup. Not the most sophisticated move, but somehow it made me happy.
Catherine put a hand on her hip and waved her other arm behind the pastry case. “What’ll it be this evening, Max? Chocolate croissant? Maple scone? Cheese danish?”
I chuckled and shrugged out of my jacket. As I draped it over one arm I pointed at a fruity looking pastry near the front of the glass. “That thing. The raspberry white chocolate scone I guess it is.”
“A wise choice,” she declared. Catherine gave the glass door on the other side of the case a great heave and it slid open. As she put my scone on a plate she said, “All the Christmas pastries will take over tomorrow. Our first shipment shows up at five in the morning.”
“How horrible.”
“No, I like it! You’re the only Scrooge in the Miller family.”
“I’m no Scrooge,” I said defensively, as my sister came out from around the counter. I grabbed the container of curry from the counter and followed her to our table. It was a table for two on the opposite side of the cafe from the other customer. We still had a nice view of the people going by on the sidewalk. “I just don’t see why people get so worked up over a holiday. There’s no sense in it.”
“There isn’t supposed to be any sense in it,” Catherine said, as she lifted the corners of the lid. She peeled it back and the unmistakable aroma of curry wafted up in the air between us. She breathed it in and smiled with contentment. “Smells like Mom’s.”
I leaned forward to rest my chin in my hand. “So all the Christmas shit doesn’t bug you? For real?”
Catherine shrugged. “The first year without Mom sucked. Actually, so did last year. But it wasn’t because it was Christmas. It was because she wasn’t there. I think I’m just better at telling the difference between the two things than you are.”
“I’m supposed to be the wise one of the two of us. Older brother and all.”
“Means nothing.”
“Sure it does. I have two extra years of life and knowledge on you.”
“And you hate Christmas. No wise person hates Christmas. Sure, it’s become hella commercialized, but it’s magical in its own way.”
“Oh God. Now you sound like one of those cheesy elves working for a mall Santa.”
Catherine picked up her spoon and took a bite of curry. She must have liked it, because she quickly shoveled in a few more before speaking again with her mouth half full. “I would really like that job, thank you very much.”
“Someone’s gotta do it, I guess.”
Catherine switched the subject on me. “So is Hayden still bulking up?”
“Bulking?”
Catherine nodded and stirred the curry. “Yeah. He was getting into lifting weights last time I saw him. The guy spends like eight hours a week at the gym these days.”
“Makes sense.”
“What does?”
“He hugged me when I got to the house earlier today. I thought my head was going to pop right off my shoulders.”
Catherine gave me a deadpan look and blew a strand of black hair out of her face. “Was that supposed to be funny?”
“No.”
My sister shook her head at me and went in for the last few bites of curry. “Hayden’s cool—and he’s getting his shit together. You should be happy for him.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
“Never said you were, either,” she said, pointing at me with her fork. Then she pointed the utensil back at herself. “See? Me. Wise one.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh please. And I am happy for him by the way. He’s made something of himself and found his niche.”
“You should tell him that. You do know he’s been trying to get on your good side for over a decade now, right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“When Kei
th and Mom got together, all Hayden wanted was to be ‘in’ with you. To hang out with you and your friends, you know? But, in the end, he had to make his own way. Which turned out fine. I think he just wants to feel like you’re brothers.”
“But we aren’t brothers.”
Catherine put her utensil down and folded her arms on the table. The look she gave me was pure disapproval. “Yes—you are. Don’t say shit like that, Max. Keith and Hayden have been nothing but good to us since the day they stepped into our lives. They made it better in their own way. It’s high time you let them in.”
I sighed and slumped back in my chair.
“You should listen to me. The wiser sibling is never wrong. Besides, you look like shit. You should try to take it easy for the holidays.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “Everyone keeps telling me that.”
“Maybe you should listen to them.”
“Nah.”
“Max.”
“What?”
Catherine shook her head and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. Her pink lipstick was still, somehow, perfectly in place. “All I’m saying is to go easy on yourself. December isn’t easy for us Miller kids. And we have to stick together. So don’t you dare block me out like you did last year, okay?”
Guilt crawled around inside me, unfurling like a snake ready to lunge at its prey. “Okay, Catherine. I’m sorry. I never meant to leave you alone last year.”
“You didn’t. I had Keith and Hayden. But I wanted you, too. Family. That’s what the holidays are all about. The sooner you wrap your head around that the sooner this time of year won’t feel like a roundhouse kick to the teeth.”
I chuckled. “An accurate analogy.”
“I try,” she shrugged.
Catherine was the only person in my life who could tell me the brutal truth and not ruffle my feathers. She and I had been through a lot together, and when she was diagnosed with MS at the early age of thirteen I’d become her fierce defender. Nobody messed with my baby sister without getting messed with back by me. She was mine to protect.
That feeling had intensified after our mother died. I felt like I needed to fill two roles now—big brother and parent. But she didn’t expect that of me. All she wanted was Max. The old Max. The Max who could always make her laugh harder than anyone else. The Max who would break the rules just to make her smile.
Brand New Man Page 3