The Spinster Sisters (22 page)

“Well, dear, I’m with you,” Aunt Shirley says. “I think coffee is simply a good excuse for cream and sugar.”

“Is that a request for another cup?” I ask her.

“Oh no, dear. I’m fine,” she says, winking at me.

“Sure she is. Fine.” Aunt Ruth snorts. “She’s had two cups already, and she won’t be able to sleep. We’ll go back downstairs, and she’ll putter around all night!”

“You’re welcome to stay in the guest room at our place if you need to get some rest,” Hunter says.

“Kiss-ass.” Jill elbows him in the ribs.

“Leave the boy alone, darling,” Ruth says, smiling at Hunter. “I happen to like a young man who knows where his bread is buttered.”

“So, Jodi, how’s it feel to be losing a sister to marriage?” Raj asks me playfully.

“I’m not losing a sister; I’m gaining a brother,” I say dutifully, rumpling Hunter’s hair as I sit on the other side of him on the couch.

“Aw, shucks,” Hunter says, faking humility.

“You are, however, losing a Spinster!” Raj says.

“True enough,” I say. “And more power to her!”

“You’ll have to hold down the fort,” Tim says. “The last surviving Spinster.”

“Even if she did take a brief sabbatical to the dark side.” Raj laughs.

Aunt Ruth and Aunt Shirley make eye contact over the rims of their coffee cups.

“Hey, marriage isn’t the dark side!” Hunter says in mock horror. “Is it? Are you luring me to the dark side?” He faces Jill, who laughs uncomfortably.

“Of course not,” she says and waves her hand in front of his face. “This woman loves you.”

Hunter adopts a blank look. “This woman loves me.”

“She is not trapping you in marriage.”

“She is not trapping me in marriage.”

“She needs a Gucci purse for her birthday.”

“Even I am not that stupid,” he says, kissing her neck.

“Damn,” Jill says, the uncomfortable moment gone. “I was so close!”

“Hey, it’s almost time,” Tim says, checking his watch.

I walk over to the television and turn it on, finding the Times Square festivities. We have less than five minutes to go.

Jill hands around glasses of champagne, a beautiful bottle of Krug that Raj and Tim brought.

“Before we count down,” Matt says, “I’d like to propose a toast to the four best hostesses in the world!”

“Hear, hear!” Raj says.

“Beautiful and talented, all,” Shelly says. “Thank you so much for including us.”

“You are all very sweet,” Aunt Shirley says.

“Hey, hey, here we go!” Hunter points at the TV.

The ball begins its journey, and we all count in unison. “Happy New Year!” we all shout, and the ubiquitous kissing begins. I receive my hugs and good wishes from everyone in the crowd and try to think of my blessings, but there is something a little disappointing about not having a man taking me in his arms at this joyous moment. I can see Hunter dipping Jill dramatically, Raj and Tim are holding each other tightly, and Matt has picked Shelly up to kiss her, like a porcelain doll. I wonder what Connor and Abbot and Ben are doing right now.

Everyone begins to straighten up, and I sneak off to my bedroom for a moment. I check my cell phone. Two new text messages.

The first is from Abbot.

 
The second is from Ben.

 
The boy writes in license plates.

No messages from Connor. I pause. Then I dial his cell number. It rings six times before he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you. Happy New Year.”

“Hi. Happy New Year to you. How’s the party?”

“Good. Too much food, too much drink, typical. How are the boys?”

“Too much sugar, too much Xbox, too many Vin Diesel movies.”

“What time are Michael and Peg due back?”

“They said by one or so.”

I take a deep breath. “Wanna come over instead of going home?” I can’t help it. Despite Abbot’s attentions the other night, I find that tonight, it is Connor I’m missing, and I’m feeling very much as if I am ready to move that relationship forward physically, even if it means I have to let go of something else.

Connor pauses. “That’s a very tempting offer, but I’m going to have to take a rain check. These guys are wearing me out, and I’ve got that thing tomorrow. But Tuesday night for sure. I’ve got good plans for us.”

“Okay, just a thought.”

“I like the way you think. Hold the thought for a day, will ya?”

“I will.”

“Hey, you’re missing the movie!” I hear a distinctly female voice muffled in the background.

“I’m coming,” Connor says. “Jodi, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath as I hang up the phone. Who the hell was that? And why do I get the sense that she is the thing he is doing tomorrow?

I head back out to my living room, where everyone is getting ready to go.

“Good night everyone, thanks for letting us old birds come to your party,” Aunt Shirley says, making a round of kisses.

“Oh pish, Shirley,” Ruth says. “We keep things lively.”

“That you do,” Tim says, kissing her cheek. “I’d adopt you both if I could.”

“And you aren’t even Chinese!” Raj says, making us all laugh. “It’s not funny! He’s been leaving articles about foreign adoption all over the house!”

“It isn’t my fault I’m not wedded to the old-world way of doing things,” Tim says, waving Raj off. “This one still thinks we’ll find the perfect Hindi lesbian to continue the Bijanali bloodine.”

“Hey, in just five months you guys can start arguing about kids!” Matt says, clapping Hunter on the shoulder.

“Oh, Lord. Don’t even get him started,” Jill says, stepping between them. “It’s hard enough dealing with Groomzilla over here on the infinite wedding details. I shudder to think about what I’m in store for when it’s time for kids!”

“I can’t help it if I want the day to be perfect!” Hunter says in his own defense and with an air of weariness. “After all, the perfect bride deserves the perfect wedding, even if the groom is the only one who seems to care.”

“Yeah, except I keep waiting for you to come home and tell me that your colors are blush and bashful!” Jill says.

“Shirley, let’s get the hell out of here before it becomes a daytime drama.” Ruth takes her by the hand and drags her toward the door.

“Wait up, ladies, we’ll escort you home,” Tim says, and he and Raj each offer them an arm.

“Okay, buddy. You keep these gals in line.” Matt gives Hunter a hug.

“Thanks again. It was a great night.” Shelly gives me a hug.

They head out, and Jill and Hunter and I flop down on my couch, Jill and I simultaneously kicking off our shoes. Jill puts her feet in Hunter’s lap, and he dutifully begins to rub them.

“Another triumph!” he says.

“True enough,” Jill says. “Jodi, the cake was amazing.”

“Well, your double-baked potatoes were perfect.” Hard to go wrong with potatoes, sour cream, and cheddar cheese.

“I think we could have served old shoes next to Aunt Shirley’s roast and no one would have noticed,” Jill says, rubbing her belly.

“No kidding!” Hunter says. “How the hell did she get it so perfect? Brown and crispy on the outside, but pink and juicy all the way through, right to the very edges.” Hunter sighs.

“She is a miracle worker,” I say. “Were there any leftovers?”

“She made a smaller second roast and left it in my fridge for tomorrow,” Jill says. “She knew we’d want to make sandwiches for the game. Are you coming down?” Jill and Hunter have some of Hunter’s poker buddies and their girlfriends coming over to watch the football game tomorrow.

“Yeah, I’ll come down. Can I bring anything?”

“No, I think we have everything we need,” Jill says.

“Um, Jodi . . .” Hunter says.

“Yeah?”

“Could you do that Ro*Tel Velveeta thing you make?” He asks sheepishly.

“Oh, Hunter, don’t you remember last time?” Jill admonishes him.

I made the simultaneously very delicious and totally disgusting cheese dip for our Fourth of July party last year. Hunter ate so much of it that he shat orange for three days.

“I won’t have that much again, I promise,” he says.

“I’ll bring it; you ignore her.”

“Thank you, Sis-to-be.” Hunter gets up. “You guys sit. I’m going to go downstairs and finish tidying up.” Jill moves as if to get up. He pushes her back down. “Nuh-uh, princess. You guys did all the prep work. I’m on the final round of cleanup.”

“You’re a god among men,” she says, sinking back down gratefully.

“I try. Happy New Year, Jodi. See you this afternoon.”

“Good night, little brother. Happy New Year.”

“Good night, Monkey Ears,” he says. Jill shakes her head.

“Keep working,” I say.

“Oh well.” He closes the door behind him. I turn back to Jill and smile. “He’s a keeper, kiddo.”

“That he is. Did you have fun tonight?”

“It was fine. A good party. I really like Matt and Shelly.”

“Me, too. I’m sorry all your boys bailed.”

“Yeah, well. It’s my own fault. I waited too long to make plans.”

“Because you were waiting for Connor,” she says knowingly.

“Because I thought he’d be the best fit for the party, is all.”

“Because you wanted him to be here. God, Jodi, there’s nothing wrong with liking this guy!”

“I never said I didn’t like him.”

“But you won’t admit that you like him differently than the Father or the Son. Come on, this is
me
here. You can’t fool me. Sure, Abbot and Ben have their charms, but Connor has gotten under your skin. And you wanted him to be here with you because you
wanted him with you
, not because he would fit better with us.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter whether that is the case or not,” I say with more vehemence than I intended.

“Why? What’s up?” Jill sits up and crosses her legs underneath her.

“I called him on his cell. Invited him to come over after Michael and Peg came home tonight. Thought I’d give him a little late-night New Year’s treat.”

“And?”

“Well, he said he was going to be too tired, and we have plans for Tuesday anyway, but then . . .”

“Then what?”

“Then I heard some girl tell him he was missing the movie, and he said he had to go. And he has some mysterious plans tomorrow that I’m not invited to.”

“So?”

“So?!? So, it doesn’t matter how much I like him or don’t like him. He clearly has other fish to fry.” I know I’m pouting, but I can’t help it. Jill starts to laugh.

“You are the best,” she says. “Do you hear yourself? You’re all pissed that he has some girl over there for New Year’s, even though he invited you first. But after he turned you down, you invited
two other guys
, in case you’ve forgotten, to join you here! And you’re mad at both of them for making other plans, even though they both
also
asked you for plans first. You’re ridiculous! You make this whole big stink about your relationships being nonexclusive, but apparently you only mean for you . . . They’re all supposed to be at your beck and call!”

“That’s not true!”

“Jodi, I love you truly, madly, deeply, but be honest. You like having your little gaggle of guys. Makes you feel all wanton and powerful. But one of those guys is not like the others, and you can’t admit it!”

“You’re totally off base. And besides, I’d better keep my gaggle of guys, or we’ll be out of a job.”
Oops
.

“What the hell does that mean?” she snaps.

“Nothing. Forget it.”

Her jaw drops. “Are you thinking about what Raj and Tim were saying?”

“They have a point. I mean, we have set ourselves up as the icons for single girls. One of us had better stay single, don’t you think?”

She leans over and takes my hand. “What I think is that we have the success we have because we do it together and because our hearts are in the right place. And I hope that you don’t ever make your personal life a business decision. You and I can do anything we set our minds to, and our business will grow and change as our lives move forward. My life is so much better with Hunter in it, and I know that the happier he makes me, the better I will be at home
and
at work. And I hope that when you meet the guy who can make you happy like that, whether Connor is that guy or if he is just on the horizon, that you will let go of the persona you think you have to have and just let yourself embrace that happiness. I know you are concerned about the fallout. I’m doing my best to get us through it. But at the end of the day we have to trust in our message and our intentions and let the chips fall where they may.”

And even though I can’t really believe her, I also can’t give in to the desire to yell at her for getting married and potentially spoiling everything we’ve worked so hard for. So I fake acquiescence. “Ignore me. I know you’re right; I’m just pouting. And I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Suit yourself. I’m going to bed.” She gets up, walks over, and kisses the top of my head. “Good night, Butthead.”

“Good night, Moose Face. Happy New Year.”

“You, too. Love you.”

“Love you, too. I’ll see you when I get up.”

“You got it.”

She crosses the room and leaves.

I swig the last of the champagne out of the bottle and take my sorry self to bed. Alone. Where I try not to think about Connor and who he might be sleeping with.