“Wanna know what I use on my girls’ hair?” Tamra stood up straight and counted the ingredients on her fingers. “I put coconut oil, water, and grapeseed oil in a spray jar, comb it out once a week, and honestly, that’s all you need. How long is your real hair, honey?”
Emira almost flinched. She was suddenly so grateful to need both of her hands as she tucked a corner of a napkin into a crooked fold. She could already hear Zara’s response to this question, which would be a wide-eyed, She asked you what? “Umm.” Emira kept her brown eyes low. “Like, chin length maybe.”
“Okay, that’s something!” Tamra congratulated her. “I can definitely see you with some curls, girl.”
“Memmy?” Imani appeared at the top of the stairs and Emira felt her breath come back into her shoulders. She turned to the little girl and said, “Hey there, I haven’t met you yet.” Emira continued to question Imani about being a big sister until all the silverware was wrapped.
When Emira came back downstairs she set the basket of silverware on the table and found Kelley on his way to the bathroom. “Sorry, that was weird,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
Kelley said, “Mm-hmm,” and then, “I need you to check your phone,” before he slid into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
Briar intercepted Emira in the foyer and Emira swung her up onto her hip. She kept her there as she snuck away to the front vestibule, moving coats and scarves aside to dig into her purse.
“Prudence has a big cat,” Briar said.
“Yeah?” Emira clicked into her messages. “What’s its name?”
There were three texts from Kelley on her phone, and she read them as Briar explained that cats don’t pick their own names, and that the mama gets to pick.
The first message from Kelley said, Your boss was my high school girlfriend.
The second said, The one who only flew first class.
The third said, I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE.
Fifteen
Jodi was meant to sit next to her daughter Prudence, but Prudence had quickly remembered her obsession with a now very tipsy Rachel and begged her mother to switch. Peter and Catherine settled in at the head of the table, next to Walter and Payne. Next to Alix, Briar fiddled with the strap that buckled her into her booster seat. Across from Alix, Emira reached forward and touched a hideously sparkled pumpkin that read Give Thanks! in gold around its plastic body. “This is all so nice,” she said.
“Oh. It’s not . . .” Alix threw her hair behind her shoulders as she sat down. She tried to explain, but like everything else she’d said in the last hour it was more for Kelley than anyone else, which meant she couldn’t find her words. Kelley took his seat next to Emira and winked at Briar in front of him. “Well, it was kind of a joke,” Alix said. “But it’s silly, though—”
“She’s right, A.” Jodi stepped in and saved her. “This is absolutely lovely. Pru?” Jodi looked to her left and squared her daughter’s face. “This is a very special treat that you are sitting next to Miss Rachel, so you need to behave, okay?”
Prudence did the same sneaky face she always did when Jodi alluded to such a thing as consequences. Rachel high-fived Prudence and said, “Us single ladies will be fine over here, right, Cleo?”
Two-year-old Cleo shook her head. “No, thank you.”
Peter looked over at Alix but said to the entire group, “Should we say grace of some kind?”
Walter raised his chin at his daughter from the other side of the table. “Pru knows a prayer, don’t you, Pru?”
Jodi mumbled, “Oh, God.”
“That’s perfect,” Alix said. “Do you wanna help us out?”
Prudence looked around the table as if she were about to execute a very rude and smelly prank. She folded her hands on the table and giggled to herself. “For food and health and happy days, receive our gratitude and praise. And when we serve others may we, repay our debt of love to thee. Amen.”
The adults at the table said, “Amen,” and Walter echoed, “That’s fantastic, kiddo.”
Tamra leaned forward. “They taught her that at preschool?”
Jodi reached for a pot of sweet potatoes. “Don’t even get me started.”
Alix encouraged everyone to dig in, and those wonderful jingles of dinnerware hitting plates and porcelain started to drift up toward the ceiling.
Everything sounded like the Thanksgiving she wanted, which made the evening even more eerie. The guests looked festive and warm under the glow of the chandelier. The snow swirled effortlessly behind the front window panes. And the front hall of her home had switched to a dining room quite easily; it smelled like a mix of berries, brown sugar, baked crusts, and burning flames. Briar pointed to every item of food that Alix put on her plate and asked, “Mama? Mama, is dis hot?” Payne stood on Walter’s knee and bounced adorably with a binky in his hand. Rachel applied strawberry ChapStick to Prudence’s little lips, to which Jodi prompted, “What do you say, Pru?” Tamra replied to Imani’s interest in this activity by raising her eyebrows and saying, “Don’t even think about it.” Everything sounded so homey and sweet and domestic, but across from Alix was her beloved babysitter, Emira, with what seemed from above the table like Kelley Copeland’s hand on her left knee. As Alix spooned asparagus for Briar, she tried not to look at Emira while wondering, How much do you know? In a lull, Peter looked over to Emira and Kelley and asked, “So how did you two meet?”
Alix watched Kelley and Emira wait for the other one to answer, and this private language between them made her writhe in her seat. “They met on the train, honey.” She said this as she cut Briar’s turkey. “Isn’t that right?”
“Ummm . . .” Kelley reached for his glass of wine and then, at the last second, grabbed his water. “That is . . . incorrect.”
“Well.” Emira looked at him. “Not entirely, though.”
“Uh-ohhh,” Walter boomed. “What’s the real story then, Kelley? Come on, now. Let’s have it.”
At the other end of the table, Prudence blew bubbles into a plastic cup of milk. Jodi eyed her and whispered, “Prudence? That’s one.”
“I don’t . . . uhh . . .” Kelley looked unbearably cute as he struggled, and Alix had to look into her lap. “I don’t know if it’s appropriate.”
“Ohmygod,” Rachel said. “They had a one-night stand.” This seemed to please her greatly, and the fact that she sat next to two four-year-olds and across from a two-year-old did not interfere with her excitement. “Do not be shy, girl. We’ve all been there. These two met on a one-night stand”—she pointed a fork at Walter and Jodi—“and look at them now.”