Happy Hour (7 page)

“Screw it, we don’t need a name,” Kat said, unclipping her light brown
hair and letting it fall to her shoulders. “It’s like a happy hour.”

They all nodded in agreement and made a schedule as to who would host
happy hour on which Sunday.

The hostess would choose the wine and recipes for the
evening. The rules were: no chug-a-lugging (these were tastings, not frat parties),
and no driving home buzzed (which occasionally happened to one or more of them;
Kat’s husband Christian was available to act as a taxi service if needed).

Tonight was Jamie’s night and, as usual, she was running
late. It didn’t help that Jamie always chose some impossible recipe that
typically called for some ingredient she’d never heard of.  But she couldn’t
help herself because as she looked through her cookbooks on the Fridays before
her Sundays, she always found a mouthwatering photo that accompanied a
complicated recipe. The wine part was easy for her, though. Wineries from all
over sent wines to the magazine and
someone
had to sample them. Of
course Jamie reciprocated, writing them up in the
Happy Hour
monthly
column.

Today was no different as far as the recipe. She’d chosen duck
a l’orange. Already five after four and the duck was in the oven, but she had
yet to make the saffron potatoes. Nora still hadn’t shown up. Even though times
were tight, and she’d let go of the cleaning service, Jamie had had to hire
Nora to take care of Dorothy while she was at work and to help out on happy
hour Sundays. Nora wasn’t the best housekeeper, even when she bothered to clean
and clear clutter at all, but she always made sure Dorothy had her meals and
was happy. And Jamie appreciated Nora’s sportsmanship. Taking care of Dorothy
came with a certain—um—weirdness. God bless her, but Dorothy truly believed
Nora to be Dean Martin.

While Jamie searched the cupboard for saffron, Dorothy came
in, wearing a poodle skirt, a white blouse, and a bow that pulled her long gray
hair taut. Her blue eyes, exactly like Nathan’s and Maddie’s, blinked rapidly.
“Hi, honey. Has Dean called? I thought we had a date.”

“No, Mom. I’m sorry. He hasn’t called. But he should be here
soon.”

Dorothy laughed girlishly and did a twirl as well as a
seventy-seven-year-old woman could manage. Actually, her twirls were still
quite good. Dorothy, who’d been a dancer in her younger years, had also worked
in Hollywood for some time. Rumor had it that after she divorced Nate’s dad,
she’d partaken in a few scandalous affairs with notorious hot shots and bad
boys in the entertainment business. Now, a tendency to fall back into
yesteryear had left poor Dorothy not only believing that Nora the housekeeper
embodied Dean Martin, but there were days that she imagined that the UPS driver
and mailman were Frank Sinatra or Elvis. Yes—Elvis. Jamie loved the outfits she
donned for her
dates
with Elvis.”

“Where’s Nathan? He should be home by now. School is out.”
Dorothy looked at her wrist, at the watch that wasn’t there, and tapped it. “He
is supposed to come straight home. Dinner will be ready soon.” She shook her
head. “That boy.”

Jamie walked around the kitchen counter and put her hands on
Dorothy’s shoulders. “Mom. It’s me. Jamie. Nathan is gone. Remember? He is an
angel now.” She swallowed hard. Dorothy frequently forgot that Nate was no
longer with them, something Jamie wished she could do. Countless times she
wished she could live in Dorothy’s world, a world where Nate still existed.

Every time she heard her husband’s name, a weight pulled down on her
heart. Her breath shortened and sorrow closed her throat, but Dorothy couldn’t
understand.

“Jamie! Yes. You are such a nice girl. I always liked you. You are so
much better than that Ann Marie that Nathan thought he wanted to marry. You
came home with him and it was a ray of sunshine walking through the door. Deano
thought you were a doll. You need to call Nathan and tell him to come home.
He’s been gone too long.”

“I know, Mom. You’re right. Why don’t you go watch some TV and I’ll let
you know when Dean shows up?” Nora had better hurry her butt up, because
Jamie’s sweet mother-in-law needed a boyfriend.

“Good girl. I’ll do that. Will you bring me some sherry while I wait?”

“Of course.”

Four-thirty rolled around. Maddie would be home any minute from her Uncle
David and Aunt Susan’s place in Marin County.

The doorbell rang. “Nora!” Jamie yelled, half exasperated, half relieved,
as she opened the door. Nora scurried past her, removed her purse, and laid it
on the sofa. She then said something in Spanish that Jamie thought to be an
apology—either that her brother or brother’s wife was sick and needed help. It
went something like this. “Lo siento. Mi wife de mi hermanos esta esicky.”

“Your esposa is sick?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No. Es mi hermano.”

“Hermano?
Hermano?
Hermano?” Where in the world was the
Spanish/English dictionary at? In her office upstairs.

“Es mi brother.”

“Your brother esta infermo?” Oh yeah,
hermano
is brother. Should
have known that.

“Su esposa.” Nora crossed her arms and looked at her with a ‘you are so
dumb’ expression.

“His wife?”

She tossed up her hands, nodded, and headed for the kitchen, where she
gasped at the mess Jamie had created and immediately began cleaning. This was
how their relationship went. They spoke Spanglish to each other with Nora basically
in control, and typically aggrieved with Jamie. Nora was almost always late and
sometimes didn’t show up at all (on Sundays). But she always had a fabulous
excuse and she definitely had the knowledge that there was no way in hell Jamie
was ever going to find someone to clean her house (sort of) and take care of
Dorothy for two hundred dollars a week, as well as make the trek out on her
Sundays. She’d wedged Jamie between a rock and a hard place, and she knew it.
So Jamie dealt with it.

 As Nora scurried around the kitchen attempting to clean it, Jamie
checked on the duck and decided to turn the heat up a little. The potatoes were
boiling but she still hadn’t found the saffron. Maddie bounded in the side door
off the kitchen, loaded down with shopping bags. “Hi, Mommy.”

Jamie stopped the saffron search and wrapped her arms around her
daughter. “Hi baby. Where’re Uncle David and Aunt Susan?”

“They said to tell you that they had to get back to the city because they
have a dinner or something tonight.”

“Oh.” Jamie peered out the kitchen window to see David’s Mercedes pulling
out of the driveway. This seemed to be becoming the norm with Nate’s brother.
Maddie’s visits with her aunt and uncle typically meant gifts galore. Then when
David and Susan would bring her home they would visit for less than ten
minutes, say hi to Dorothy and leave. Today they hadn’t even bothered to get
out of the car. With a sigh and frown, Jamie shook her head. Unbelievable. A
heart to heart with her husband’s brother was overdue and necessary. “Look at
you. Looks like you got a few things.”

Maddie smiled widely. “Check this out, Mom.” She opened a bag and took
out Ghirardelli chocolates, a purple cashmere sweater and a pair of True
Religion jeans. “Aunt Susan bought them for me. She said they’ll be perfect for
next fall. Her personal shopper picked them out just for me. And Uncle David
took me to the bookstore and he got me a bunch of new books I can’t wait to
read. They’re in my suitcase at the door. Can you bring it in for me? It’s kinda
heavy.”

“Sure, sweetie. Sounds like you had fun.” A tightness crept into her
shoulders and neck. The jeans alone had to have cost over a hundred dollars.

“I had a great time. We saw the new movie with Matt Damon in it, and then
last night we watched
Mamma Mia
again on DVD, and we ate at Auntie Sue’s
favorite restaurant. It was the best Mexican food ever,” she squealed.

“That’s wonderful, honey.”

“Where’s Grandma? I want to tell her about it, even though she won’t
remember.”

“Waiting for her suitor.”

Maddie smiled. “Who is it supposed to be tonight?”

“Dean, of course.”

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Should have known. Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe
I almost forgot, but the best part this weekend was that Aunt Susan got a
horse.”

“She got a horse?”

Maddie nodded. “It’s amazing. He’s soooo beautiful and sweet. He’s
sorrel, which Aunt Susan explained is like a reddish brown, and he has a blaze
on his face, and he jumps!”

Jamie remembered that Susan grew up riding horses and as a young woman
rode on the show jumping circuit, but her prized horse had been injured badly,
resulting in his having to be put down, so she’d gotten out of the horse world.
Apparently she’d gotten back in. “Great. That’s wonderful.”

“It is, Mom. She said that I can come and ride with her sometimes. I want
to go again next weekend. They said that I could. Aunt Susan even said that
she’d get riding lessons for me!”

The muscles in Jamie’s neck and shoulders tightened further. “Honey, I
think that’s great, but we need to talk about this, and right now my friends
are coming over.”

“But Mom. I can tell you’re going to say no.”

“I didn’t say no. I said that we need to talk about it, but not now.”

“But I want to.”

“Nevertheless, I need you to either go in and watch TV with Grandma, or
read one of your new books, or find something to do in your room. We will
discuss this later. I am expecting company soon.” Jamie stood up straight and
then, oh no, that smell.
Burning
. The duck!

“Señora Jamie!” Nora yelled.

“I know, I know.” Grabbing hot pads off the counter, she pulled open the
oven to see that things were only a tad crispy but not burnt. She took the duck
out and pulled at a wing. Hmmm. Not at all appetizing and nothing like the
photo in the cookbook.

As if on cue, Nora grabbed the hot pads and the duck from her and dumped
it into the trash. She headed to the fridge and took out cheeses and some
fruit, and went to the cupboard for crackers. Jamie turned off the stove. So
much for duck a l’orange and saffron mashed potatoes.

“Mommy.” Maddie placed her hands on her hips.

“Not now, Maddie.”

Jamie turned in time to see her storm off toward her room. Great way to
welcome the kid home, but Susan and David obviously weren’t doing her any
favors. Horses! Now it was horses!

Jamie kicked the trash can and Nora’s eyebrows went up in scorn. “I know.
I know. Don’t look at me like that, though.”

Nora seemed to understand her this time as she turned away and sliced up
the cheese. Jamie gave up trying to play blue-ribbon hostess, and went upstairs
to change out of the t-shirt that was now covered in orange sauce and the jeans
she wore every weekend. Fifteen minutes later the doorbell rang and she dashed
down the stairs. Peeking in the kitchen, she saw that Nora had covered her
butt. She passed her and Dorothy staring at the boob tube in the den. Nora had
even given Dorothy a glass of wine. Jamie smiled weakly at Nora, who shook her
head at her, as Dorothy reached for the housekeeper’s hand. “Gracias,” Jamie
whispered.

“Mas dinero. Queiro mas.” Nora rubbed her fingers together.

Jamie shrugged her shoulders and walked to the front door, knowing
exactly what Nora wanted.

The friends all rolled in together.

“It smells…” Danielle wrinkled up her nose.

“Burnt,” Jamie replied. Her friends laughed and followed her into the
combined open family room and kitchen. “Sorry, but uh, no duck a l’orange for
you.” She waved her hand over a tray of cheese and crackers, grapes, apple
slices and strawberries. “Dig in. It’s gourmet, I assure you.”

“I don’t do duck anyway.” Danielle smiled and reached for the bottle of
Viognier in the ice bucket. “You try too hard. You should know by now that we
aren’t a difficult crowd to please.”

“Look who’s talking.” Alyssa took a seat on the end barstool and pulled
her hair back into a ponytail. She wore a cream colored v-neck sweater that
contrasted beautifully with her dark skin. “What was it you served last time?
Veal scallopini?”

“We were drinking Italian wines,” Danielle replied.

“Personally, I am with Jamie on this. I get sick of the gourmet food.”
Kat handed Danielle the corkscrew at the end of the counter.

“Sure,” Jamie said. “Christian’s food is so horribly boring.”

“No, of course not. But you know it’s nice to have something simple
sometimes. And it’s better on my waistline. I swear my husband doesn’t know how
to cook without using a cup of butter and cream in every sauce.” She pinched
her waist. “And it shows. Just look at my ass. I could hardly squeeze into
these.” She turned around and patted her butt. “And I won’t even show you the
excess baggage hanging over these suckers. Thank God for loose fitting
blouses.” She ruffled out her blouse. It was on the larger, longer side, which
as far as her friends were concerned was totally unnecessary. Kat seemed to
have a skewed image of her body shape. “Not to mention black. Thank God for the
color black.” Kat’s flowy blouse happened to be black.

“Please. You look great,” Danielle said. “Here.” She’d uncorked the wine
and poured glasses for each of them. “So I have some news.”

They all leaned in over the kitchen counter.

“Yes. What is it?” Kat waved her hands in small circles.

“The Bastard’s child bride is preggers again!”

Kat almost spit out her sip of wine. Jamie’s went down the wrong way,
causing her to cough for a minute, and Alyssa’s eyes widened.

“I know. How stupid! First Al knocks her up while screwing her behind my
back and she has twins. They’re barely three and
now
another one is on
the way.” Danielle picked up her glass and swirled the light golden contents
around.

“How do you feel about that?” Jamie asked.