“To the poor children,” she said wearily, and they all drank.
Kathleen thought Caro meant her own kids for a second, and then realized that she was referring to the recipients of that evening's fund-raising efforts.
Kathleen had been to many social events in her life, but never one that reeked of wealth the way this one did. There were at least three waiters to every table and they were always hovering, refilling glasses and clearing and bringing plates. The room was decorated with wreaths of flowers and candles that cast a flattering warm glow and made the ropes of jewels on the women all around her sparkle brightly.
Cinderella was at the ball.
Funny thing—so was the fairy godmother.
There was a steady stream of tuxedoed men paying their respects to Jackson all during dinner, so at first Kathleen didn't even look up when one more came—and then she heard his voice. And there was Sam Kaplan, clasping Jackson's hand and saying something she couldn't quite catch that had Jackson shaking his head with a rueful smile.
Kathleen was surprised and a little annoyed. Sam hadn't told her he was coming, even after she'd mentioned the event that morning.
Kevin had once said something to her about how his father admired Sam, and there seemed to be some truth to it: Jackson had risen to his feet and was listening intently to whatever Sam was saying. He nodded his head in agreement at the end. They did that guy thing of shaking hands while clapping each other's upper arm, and then Jackson gave him a little salute and sat back down between his older sons.
Sam greeted the rest of the family as he circled around the table, kissing the air close to all the women's cheeks and shaking all the men's hands. “Just wanted to say hello,” he said when he reached Kathleen and Kevin. He and Kevin shook hands. “Kathleen,” he said with a nod of greeting. Apparently she didn't rate an air kiss.
“Oh, right,” Kevin said, leaning back in his seat to include them both. “I forgot—you two already know each other. You're how we got Kathleen.”
“I’m how she came to work at Porter and Wachtell,” Sam said. “You got her all on your own, buddy.”
Kevin smiled.
Sam said, “You must be proud of your father this evening.” Kathleen was so used to his armchair insults that it was a surprise to realize he could actually be as polished as the next guy when he was out at a social function.
“I am,” Kevin said. “I absolutely am.”
Sam raised his hand. “Have fun, kids,” he said and walked away. He shook a couple more hands and cuffed a few more shoulders before returning to Table Eight, where he sat down next to a young woman with roughly cropped hair that was dyed a bright copper orange. The girl immediately leaned over and whispered in his ear.
Kathleen stared at them. She had been living under Sam's apartment for several months but had never once seen a female go in or out—and here he was at a major social event with a total babe.
A waiter placed a salad in front of her, blocking her view. She quickly devoured the small salad, and then noticed that none of the other women at her table had eaten theirs.
She felt Kevin's hand on her leg under the table and smiled at him. He turned and said, “Hey, Mom, did you know that Kathleen's a triplet and her two sisters are movie stars?”
“How nice,” Caro said, and raised her wineglass to her lips.
“Yeah,” Kevin said. “Christa and Kelly Winters. They're huge.”
“Really?” Caro said. “How interesting.”
From her other side, the sister-in-law in red said, “I’ve heard of them.”
“Have you?” Kathleen said.
“Yes. My little girl made me take her to one of their movies once.” One eyebrow was crooked derisively, daring Kathleen to ask her whether she liked it, but Kathleen knew better and was silent.
The waiters cleared the salad plates. Kathleen shifted restlessly in her seat. She looked over at Sam's table. He was saying something to the girl next to him. She tilted her head in consideration, and long, heavy earrings flashed at her neck. A few minutes later, Sam rose to his feet and moved across the room. He stopped at a table to talk to someone.
Kathleen pushed her own chair back abruptly. “I need to go to the ladies’ room,” she said.
“Do you know where it is?” Kevin said.
“I’ll find it.”
He rose as she stood up. He was polite that way.
She said, “Excuse me,” to the rest of the table, but no one seemed to notice.
She made her way across the room, and after Sam had finished chatting with the people at Table Twenty-seven, she darted forward and cut him off before he could go back to his own seat.
“Kathleen,” he said and gave her a quick up and down look. “Nice dress.”
“Why didn't you just tell me you were coming to this, you jerk?”
“You didn't ask. Are you having a good time?”
“It's okay. You let me go on and on this morning—”
“How much wine have you had?” he asked.
“I don't know. A glass or two.” Or three or four. “Why?”
“You look drunk. Your face is red.”
“Whatever,” she said. “You certainly look like you're enjoying yourself.”
“Do I?”
“Who's the girl at your table?”
“The girl?”
“Sitting next to you. With the bright orange hair—she's kind of hard to miss.”
“Oh, her. Beautiful, isn't she? She usually comes with me to these kinds of things. Takes pity on an old man.”
“What's her name?”
“Joanna,” he said and Kathleen could have kicked him. Or herself. Joanna was his daughter. She had seen a couple of photos of her around his apartment, but they were all at least several years old, and most of them were of her as a little girl. And she didn't have copper hair in any of them. Kathleen had stupidly assumed she was still an adolescent with undyed hair.
She glared at him. “Why didn't you just say that in the first place?”
“And ruin your excitement? You were so sure you had discovered some hidden scandal in my life—ancient Sam with his little thing-on-the-side.”
“You're not married,” Kathleen said. “You can't have a thing-on-the-side.”
“Whatever,” he said, just like she'd said it a few seconds earlier. Making fun of her.
“Can I meet her?”
“If you like.” He led the way back to his table.
Up close, Kathleen could see a tiny bit of a resemblance—her nose was long, like his, and she was thin like him, too. She was prettier, though, than you would have expected Sam's daughter to be—not that he wasn't a handsome-enough man in his own hawky, severe way, but she had a delicacy about her features that definitely came from some other source.
Sam introduced Kathleen, and Joanna said, “Oh, the girl who's staying downstairs.” Her eyes were light blue—another surprise, since Sam's were so dark—and heavily made up in shades of bright green. Her ears were pierced in four different places. The tarty look suited her, made her look oddly more innocent underneath it all. It helped that she was so young. She gestured at the room. “This is nice, isn't it?”
“Kathleen is here because she cares so deeply about the cause,” Sam said. “Have you figured out what it is yet, Kathleen?”
She shrugged. “Something about poor kids.”
‘”Something about poor kids’?” he repeated with a snort.
“Don't let him get to you,” Joanna said. “He's always trying to make me feel like a moron, too.”
A woman on the other side of Sam's chair cleared her throat, and he stepped back to include her. “Oh, excuse me. Kathleen Winters, Patricia Kaplan.”
“Also known as my mother,” Joanna put in helpfully.
Patricia held out a beautifully manicured hand, and Kathleen shook it, a little surprised. She hadn't realized Sam still saw his ex-wife socially. “How nice to meet you,” Patricia said. She was a handsome woman, an old
er version of Joanna, really, with a smaller build and a more elegant presentation. She wore her honey-blond hair in a simple twist at the back of her neck. “Sam was just telling us about your apartment.”
“He said you don't have any furniture and you play soccer on the empty floor,” Joanna added.
“It's not as crazy as it sounds. I didn't know how long I’d be there so I never really moved in. And with all that extra space—”
“Might as well play ball?” Joanna said with a grin.
“I should have gotten a security deposit from you,” Sam said to Kathleen. “It just occurred to me you're probably destroying the floors. I’ll have to get them refinished.”
“They're fine.” She had no idea if that was true or not—she wasn't the kind of person who went around examining floors for scratches.
Several waiters converged on the table with trays of food.
“I should go back,” Kathleen said, and the women said goodbye.
Sam walked a few steps with her. Kathleen looked across the room. Back at her table, Jackson was shaking his head with an impatient frown at something the oldest brother was saying, and the middle brother was looking triumphant. Caro was smiling pleasantly at a distant wall sconce. The sister-in-law in black had completely turned her back on Kevin, who was playing with his fork, pushing down on the turned-up tines so the other end rose up like a seesaw.
“Have a nice evening,” Sam said and turned to go.
“Wait,” Kathleen said.
“What?”
“Don't you think it's a little weird?”
“What?”
“Hanging out with your ex-wife. People aren't supposed to go out with their exes.”
“Why the hell not?”
“It's just weird, that's all,” she said. “My parents are divorced and they can't stand each other.”
“Right,” he said. “Your parents. Those stellar examples of a healthy lifestyle.”
“People get divorced because they don't want to be together.”
“I married Pat because I enjoyed her company,” he said. “That hasn't changed.”
“Then why'd you divorce her?”
“That's the topic of a much longer discussion than I’m prepared to have at this moment,” Sam said. “Or probably ever, with you.”
“You don't have to be a jerk about it,” she said. “It was a legitimate question.”
“Good night, Kathleen,” he said. “I suspect I’ll see you soon.”
He put out his hand, but Kathleen just walked away without taking it. She didn't know why she was so annoyed at him, but she was.
She came over to the table and collapsed ungracefully into her seat. Her main course was already there and waiting for her, the chicken and rice steaming gently.
Kevin picked up his fork and said, “You were gone forever.”
“Long line,” she said and stabbed her knife savagely into the chicken breast.
V
So, what do we think?” Kathleen held the necklace up for general inspection.
Lucy immediately dropped her knitting and jumped up to look. She slid her palm under the chain and pulled it closer to her eyes. “Silver?” she said. “Or white gold?”
“Silver,” Kathleen said. “Which I happen to like.”
“I didn't say anything negative.”
“You were about to.”
“I think it's pretty,” Lucy said with a shrug, letting the necklace slip away from her fingers.
Kathleen brought it over to Sari. “What do you think?”
“It's beautiful,” Sari said. “So Kevin just up and took you to Tiffany's, huh?”
Kathleen put the necklace back in its velvet box and closed it with an audible pop. “Yep. He said, ‘You need a necklace,’ and right to Tiffany's, just like that.”
“Next time, point out you could use a new car,” Lucy said, sitting down and picking up her knitting. “See what happens.”
“Right to BMW,” Sari said. “Just like that.”
“Oh, please,” Lucy said. “No one drives BMWs anymore. It's all about the Audis. Or, if you're really cool, a hybrid.”
“I’d take a Lexus convertible,” Kathleen said. “That's what Kevin drives.”
“That's so open-minded of you,” Sari said as she carefully slipped a bunch of stitches from one needle to the other. “Being willing to settle for a Lexus.”
“What can I say?” Kathleen threw herself into a dining room chair and pulled the bowl of bagels toward her. “I’m a saint.” She started flipping through the bagels.
“Can you please just touch whichever bagel you're planning to eat?” Lucy said.
“Maybe I’m planning on eating them all.” She extracted a poppy seed one. “I can't believe you're almost done with that blanket, Sar.”
Sari said, “I have no life. That's why I get so much knitting done. Every night, while the two of you are out being social and having fun—and probably having sex—”
“Definitely having sex,” Kathleen said.
“I’m sitting in front of the TV, knitting. It's pathetic.”
“At least you're making something useful,” Kathleen said.
“Yeah,” Sari said. “I could probably knit this baby five blankets before it's even born. I could knit one for a king-size bed with the time I have.”
“You want me to ask Kevin if he has any great friends?” Kathleen said.
“Why? You think they need blankets?”
“No, I mean to date.”
Sari thought about it. Her needles clicked and their metal ends flashed. “Yeah, I guess,” she said after a moment. “Why not?”
“Make sure they're rich,” Lucy said to Kathleen. “If yours is rich, I think it's only fair that Sari's be rich, too.”
“Amen to that,” Sari said. “Hey, guys, either of you have any good ideas for a Halloween costume?”
“You going to a party?” Kathleen asked.
“No. I have to get dressed up for this thing we do at the clinic. Most of the kids are scared to trick-or-treat for real, so they come in costume and we hand out candy. Usually I just wear scrubs or something easy like that, but Ellen yelled at me for being lazy about it last year.”
“You could be a sexy cat,” Kathleen said.
“Or a very wicked witch,” Lucy said. “In one of those tight black dresses that lace over your boobs.”
“Or a sexy little French maid,” Kathleen said. She batted her eyes, her hand to her chest. “Oh, but, monsieur, madame—she weell find out!”
“Uh, guys?” Sari said. “I’m going to be handing candy out to a bunch of four-year-olds with autism. Call me crazy, but I really don't think I have to be all that sexy.“
“You're crazy,” Kathleen said. “It never hurts to be sexy.”
“I’ve got a good idea,” Lucy said. “Let's go to a costume store right now and we'll help you pick something out.” “You really don't have to,” Sari said.
“It'll be fun. You free, Kathleen?”
“Kevin and I were supposed to go to the beach with some friends of his this afternoon, but I’d rather do this.”
“She's already losing interest,” Lucy said to Sari. “What's it been? Two weeks? Three?”
“That's our girl,” Sari said.
“I’m not losing interest,” Kathleen said. “I just don't feel like I have to spend every minute of the day with him.”
“Kathleen, you always lose interest after a few weeks,” Lucy said. “You've got relationship ADD.”
“That's because it's always just been about having fun before,” Kathleen said. “No one can sustain fun forever. But this is about more than that. This is about stability and friendship and—”
“She's bored out of her mind,” Lucy said to Sari.
“How come you don't get bored with us?” Sari asked.
“It's the sex,” Lucy said. “She gets bored having sex with the same guy over and over again. Since she doesn't have sex with us—”
?
??Shouldn't that make you even more boring?” Kathleen asked.
“No, because you actually bother talking to us,” Lucy said. “If you ever found a guy you liked talking to instead of just having sex all the time, you might last more than a few weeks with him.”
“Don't blame me,” Kathleen said. “There isn't a guy out there who's willing to sit around and talk when he thinks he could be having sex.”
It was Kathleen's idea to take Sari out for a drink before going to the costume store, but Lucy immediately seconded the motion.
“You'll be more open to our suggestions if you're tipsy,” Kathleen said.
“You mean you're going to force an outfit on me when I’m too drunk to argue,” Sari said.
“We're your friends,” Lucy said. “If you can't trust us—”
“You're my friends,” Sari said. “And I don't trust you at all.” But she let them drag her into a bar half a block from their destination.
When the bartender brought them their drinks, Kathleen said to Lucy, “I can't believe you drink straight scotch.” “It's not straight,” Lucy said. “It's on the rocks.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I like it. It's a manly drink. And it's lower in calories than those girly cocktails everyone else drinks, but gets the job done faster.”
“I’m drinking a beer,” Kathleen said. “That's just as manly as scotch.”
“No, it's not. It's a frat boys drink. A whole different thing.”
Sari frowned at her glass of white wine. “Clearly, I lose this particular contest. But why exactly do we have to be manly in our choice of alcoholic beverages?”
“It's just cooler,” Lucy said.
“Scotch tastes like medicine,” Sari said.
“I like it,” Lucy said and drank it slowly, but with real pleasure. She stopped after one—she was driving, and scotch was strong stuff—but the other two had another round, so when they finally got to the costume store, they were all pretty looped and giggly.
Sari was relaxed enough now to try on a sexy cat costume. When she walked out of the fitting room, Kathleen let out a loud wolf whistle, and everyone in the store turned to look.
“For God's sake, Kathleen!” Sari grabbed the fitting room curtain and pulled it across her body. “Do you have to completely embarrass me?”