Cat's house, of course, is the exception. There is nothing understated about it. Her house is enormous— tasteful, but enormous nonetheless. I smiled as we pulled into the large circular drive of "Chez Cat," as I had come to call it.
Chez Cat is a three-story colonial with a smaller wing on each side of the main house balancing the midsection, probably to keep it from toppling over. The house is complete with his and her twin offices, a weight room, a game room, a monstrous family room, and a gourmet kitchen. There are eight bathrooms scattered throughout the house. There are five bedrooms on the second floor and six on the third floor, making eleven total.
The master suite, one of the largest rooms in the house, features a sunken tub big enough for six and a seating area that rivals my living room. I'm sure my sister's walk-in closet is bigger than my bedroom.
In keeping with the gargantuan theme, the backyard is also immense, sporting swimming pool, tennis court, putting green and at least two acres of rolling gardens, artistic shrubbery and flower beds. To keep up appearances, Cat staffs a full-time nanny, housekeeper, gardener, and personal assistant. I figure being Catherine Cooper-Masters is probably exhausting, and she needs all the help she can get.
Many years ago, my sister came up with a brilliant marketing idea. It was one of those obvious things that everyone else in the industry had overlooked and Cat had managed to develop without all the restrictions of established competition. She began her marketing company with borrowed funds, heavy on the chutzpah, and turned a substantial profit within a short period of time. Within two years she had sold off most of her company to a larger conglomerate for more cash than I could count, but had retained the management rights. She was still holding court at a very large firm in downtown Boston.
Cat moved her family to Andover shortly after the construction of her dream home. I'm told that a small three-bedroom ranch once stood where the east wing of Cat's house now rests, but those rumors have yet to be substantiated.
As my brother-in-law removed my luggage from the back of the SUV, I stood in the driveway and looked up in awe. My sister came to my side and said, "I had it repainted since the last time you were here. Taupe is such a better color with this landscape, don't you think?"
I nodded and noticed for the first time that yes, indeed, Cat's house was now a more muted color. I stepped back and took in the structure and marveled again at the size of the place. It had to be nine thousand square feet if it was an inch, and it never ceased to amaze me that my sister owned this home.
Growing up, Cat and I had always lived in modest comfort. Our parents did well, and our homes were in upper-middle-class neighborhoods. I could only imagine the look that must have appeared on my parents' faces when they got their first peek at Chez Cat. They lived to climb the social ladder, and seeing my sister wrap herself in such opulence must have made them salivate with envy.
"You coming in, Abby?" she said, looking back at me as I continued to stare up at the house.
"Right behind you," I said, snapping out of my daydream. We walked in and were met by my four-year-old twin nephews, Matt and Mike. "Auntieeee! Auntieeee!" they shouted as they came crashing into my legs.
"Hey, little men! How are you?" I asked, stooping low to hug them. They're generally great kids—just as long as they're not on "seek and destroy" missions.
"M&M let Auntie go upstairs and get settled. You can visit with her later, all right?" my sister said, calling to my nephews by their conjoined nicknames.
M&M ignored her. Not an easy feat, mind you, but the twins had mastered it very quickly. They continued to hug me, shower me with questions, and use my body as a jungle gym. My sister withstood this blatant disregard for her authority for all of ten minutes before bringing in the heavy guns. "Sharon!" she called to the boys' nanny. "Can you please rescue my sister?"
A minute later I was relieved of my nephews and free to get settled upstairs. I walked heavily up the staircase, suddenly cognizant of how tired I felt. Traveling really takes it out of you.
My brother-in-law had already carried my luggage up for me, and when I entered the room I saw it sitting on a hope chest at the foot of the bed. Wearily I sat down and looked around the room, remembering its subtle decor.
The room itself was on the second floor toward the back of the house, and two of the windows overlooked the gardens below. It was relatively quiet, as it was one of the rooms closest to the west wing, which housed Cat's and Tommy's private offices. When I sat on the bed I also had a nice view of the pool. The walls were painted a very pale Peabody blue, with cream-colored bedspread, a French canopy and beechwood furniture. Everything was soft, elegant and finished. No construction to trip over, no ugly gray walls to stare at. I sighed and lay back on the bed for a minute as dusk descended on Boston, then closed my eyes and breathed deeply, feeling relaxed for the first time in ages.
Our mother had never been very interested in her children, and my father had traveled so much that we barely spent any time with him. Cat and I had been left to nurture and parent each other and as a result, had developed a bond much closer than most siblings. Even now we still took turns being the mother, except that Cat was far more serious about the role than I was. I attributed this to the feet that she was three years older and already had two kids of her own. She was naturally more inclined to offer advice, whether I needed it or not. Since I typically needed it, this tended to work out well.
I was lying there, letting the calm seep into my bones, when I heard footsteps approach from the hallway and enter the bedroom.
"Yes?" I said, not opening my eyes.
"Are you hungry?" Cat said.
"I could eat," I replied, opening one eye.
"Great because I had Marie whip you up a little dinner, and we can go over the weekend itinerary while you eat."
I stifled a groan. "I'll be right down." Cat retreated back down the hallway and I rubbed my tired eyes. Ugh, and I'd thought I was going to get a chance to relax.
My sister had the energy of a platoon of Green Berets. I had no idea where she got it from. I myself was typically content to sleep in and imitate moss on my days off. Cat also had the organizational skills of the Pentagon. She was an efficiency maven. She ran her entire day based on the second hand of her watch. In fact, her nickname was rumored to be Tick-tock. And I should know—I started the rumor.
Cat's wedding was a perfect example. Instead of having a wedding rehearsal day, she'd opted for a wedding rehearsal week. She came to every practice session loaded with index cards, measuring tape, a stopwatch, a whistle and, that essential necessity of every bride-to-be—a bullhorn. The rest of us brought our own individual bottles of Maalox.
Of course, on the day of the blessed event we were rewarded with rave reviews. Most attendees agreed that we, the bridal party, had performed our duties with the showmanship and professionalism of a Broadway cast.
Another great example was when Cat decided to take the twins to Disney World and invited me along. I received a seven-page itinerary for a three-day vacation via e-mail, then by registered post, plus two follow-up phone calls to ensure that I had indeed received the itinerary.
At Disney World, my sister actually timed the Dumbo ride. The five of us could be seen jogging single file through the park, grabbing fast passes and jousting for stroller space. It was the most exhausting vacation of my life.
Groaning again, I rolled over and got up. I looked at my luggage, still packed, and knew I had two choices. I could unpack it now, or leave it and just root around in the suitcase all weekend. The latter would drive my sister batty. I decided to wait until the itinerary unveiling before deciding which way to go.
I found Cat in the kitchen, making yellow highlighter streaks across several sheets of paper. Uh-oh.
"There you are! I was just making some quick notes for you here. I have it all planned out…"
Suddenly my intuitive phone began ringing. This happened a lot with Cat. I got all sorts of messages for her, mostly
because she never stood still long enough for her own intuition to catch up to her. "Hold that thought, Cat. I'm getting something," I said and turned my head slightly—a habit I'd formed early in my development. When I was concentrating on getting a message, I liked to turn my head to the right and slightly down.
Seeing me cock my head, Cat bolted from her chair and sprinted up the stairs. She returned not even a minute later, holding a weathered notebook with abby's predictions neatly labeled across the front. "I'm ready!" she said breathlessly as she took her seat and held her pen poised over the paper.
"What's this big dinner party you're hosting? It's to celebrate something special? A birthday or something?"
"Yes!" Cat said, nodding her head vigorously. "Helen's seventy-fifth birthday is next month, and I've rented the Wharf Room at the Boston Harbor Hotel. It's going to be a huge party!"
Helen was my sister's mother-in-law. Cat and she had always been close. I'd met Helen several times and considered her an angel who'd fallen from heaven. She was very special and I could see why my sister wanted to go all out to make her birthday one to remember.
"I'm getting the feeling that there's a woman with blond hair who's going to spoil this for you. You're really hoping to keep it a surprise, and this woman is going to ruin it." There was a pause as my sister and I looked at each other and as one said, "The Evil One."
The Evil One was Dora, my brother-in-law's sister. Dora had taken an instant dislike to Cat, and the two were archenemies. At Cat and Tommy's wedding, Dora had sobbed hysterically when the two were saying their vows, and burbling, "He just can't marry her!" disrupting the ceremony. Cat had never forgiven her, and the two have been playing in a game of "Who Can Outdo Whom?" ever since.
"I knew it!" my sister said, thumping the table. "I haven't even sent her an invitation yet because I wanted to wait until the last minute."
"My thought is that she's going to try and put one over on you, Cat. I get the feeling she's already gotten wind of this and that she's also planning a surprise party of her own. She's trying to beat you to the punch by having hers the night before, or even on the same day. That way she can say she had no idea you were planning this and she comes out smelling like a rose."
My sister mumbled under her breath, and scribbled something I assumed was inappropriate in her notebook. I smiled and continued, "Now, here's my advice. She's going to plan this event at some sort of hall that's close to a harbor and has a view of a lighthouse."
Cat sucked in a breath. "The Cape Codder! I know that place! Oh, you're right, Abby. She goes there all the time!"
"Now all you have to do is beat her to the punch. Call up the hall and pretend to be Dora, cancel the reservation, and pay them some cash for their time. I'm telling you it's going to work, and Dora's going to end up with egg on her face."
I could already see the wheels turning in Cat's head. "I'm also going to move the date of the party," she said. "I'll have it a week early instead of on Helen's birthday, and I may even misprint Dora's invitation on purpose. Wouldn't it be hysterical if she missed the party altogether?"
"Hysterical," I agreed, shoveling some mashed potatoes into my mouth. I'd extracted a warm plate of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans from the oven and was happily munching. After a few more bites, I said, "She's also planning on sending Helen on a cruise. Did you know that?"
"No! Where?" my sister asked.
"Someplace south, maybe the tropics. She went cheap, though, and the trip is going to be a total dud. How about you outdo her by sending Helen and Paul someplace extravagant?"
"Europe!" Cat said excitedly, as she jotted down notes.
I checked my radar. "That works. Send them for a couple of weeks, and go all out." I had no problem telling my sister how to spend her money. She had plenty to spare.
"The Queen Mary cruise ship!" Cat exclaimed. I smiled at how excited she was. Helen would love the gift and the party, and the Evil One would get her just desserts. Sometimes I love being psychic.
"Wow!" Cat said when she'd stopped scribbling.
"Glad I could help," I said, taking another bite of mashed potatoes and fingering through the agenda spread out on the tabletop.
"Abby, this is great. How can I repay you?" Cat asked, turning the pages again in her notebook.
I looked at her, and then at the weekend agenda, which included a trip to the zoo, the mall, the aquarium, two museums and Faneuil Hall. I smiled as I gathered up all the pages and began to tear them into little pieces.
"Wha … ?! What are you doing?!" Cat shrieked. "That took me a full half hour to put together!"
"I'm sure it did, but I don't want to do any of it. The way you can repay me is to spend a few days relaxing by the pool with me."
"Abby, I can relax when I'm dead. Come on, don't be silly…"
"No, Cat, we're going to sit still, relax and enjoy the weather, the pool, the backyard and each other. We are going to plant ourselves out there poolside and lounge like lizards. And if you say no, then you can forget about ever getting another reading from me."
"You wouldn't!"
"Try me," I said, smugly eating another forkful of chicken.
"Not even the mall? But there's a sale at Neiman Marcus this week!" she insisted.
"Okay, the mall—but you will leave your watch behind."
"Now you're just being mean," she said, scowling.
Two days later I was sitting outside on a lounge chair with Cat, who was doing her best to relax with me by the pool. Puddled at her feet were two reference texts, a marketing plan, notes for an upcoming meeting, two cell phones, a Dictaphone, a Palm Pilot and a laptop computer. I had decided to take my small victories where I could. At least I'd been able to spend the last couple of days relaxing instead of running around.
I was contemplating flipping over to sun my back when the peace and tranquility of the day were suddenly interrupted by the sound of heavy equipment coming from somewhere at the front of the house. I looked at Cat, who was in the midst of yet another phone call, and took in that she didn't seem alarmed. Two minutes later a very large bulldozer and digger came tumbling across the edge of the property. I expected Cat to jump up and go chasing after them, but instead she waved to one of the men on the truck.
"What's all that about?" I asked when she'd finished her call.
"We're starting the construction of a guesthouse down there at the edge of the property," Cat said, pointing down the hill.
I squinted into the sun and saw where she meant. "Why so far away?"
"Claire and Sam are coming to visit this Christmas, and I want to make sure they're comfortable."
Claire and Sam were our parents. We hadn't called them "Mom and Dad" since we were teenagers as they preferred to be called by their first names. I noticed a small tic form at the corner of Cat's eye, and my heart went out to her.
Our parents were currently living in South Carolina and hadn't asked to visit my sister since their last trip here three years earlier. Apparently, nine thousand square feet just wasn't enough room for my sister and mother.
I had no such problems, as my relationship with my parents had deteriorated to a Christmas card and an occasional cable-knit sweater, which neither fit nor flatted. My mother was very good at purchasing items exactly two sizes too small, the subtle message being "lose some weight, fatty." Claire and Sam had never once in the ten years since they moved south asked to visit me. I wasn't losing sleep over it.
Cat was a different story. She struggled through hair-pulling conversations with our mother for the sake of her children. She wanted her sons to know their grandparents, which, in my mind, was a farce, because my mother had never wanted to know her own children, much less her children's children. I stroked Cat's arm and smiled reassuringly. "Are you sure you couldn't move them just a bit farther away?"
"I tried, but my neighbor wouldn't sell his property," she said, pointing to the neighbor behind her house an acre and a half away.
I chuc
kled. "Aren't you a little worried, though, about ruining your good relationships with all of your neighbors who have to put up with all the construction?"
"Oh, please, Abby, I have money," she said matter-of-factly. "They'll be back."
Just then M&M came running out of the house wearing matching swim trunks plus yellow inflatable floaties on their upper arms. Despite the awkwardness of the floaties, Matt was precariously carrying an armload of small cars and trucks. "Here, Auntie, these are yours," he said and deposited several on my lounge chair.
I looked at the assortment and noticed that he'd given me a police car, an ambulance and a fire truck. "Thank you, Matty! I love them. But I thought you were into diggers and bulldozers."
"Yes!" he said, pointing excitedly to the far end of the property. Turning back to me, he added, "But those are yours!" He then ran to the far end of the pool, where Sharon was already helping Mike into the water. I watched my little nephew trot happily away and then I looked down at the assortment he'd given me and felt a small chill creep up my spine. A feeling of foreshadowing fluttered around the pile of trucks in my lap, and I shuddered even in the heat of the sun. Thankfully, my sister was on another call and hadn't noticed the exchange, or my reaction. I sat through the rest of the afternoon slightly removed, my thoughts troubled and my mind uneasy.
The next morning I was on the ten a.m. shuttle from Boston to Detroit, and as I stared out the window after leaving Logan Airport I thought again about the disturbing dream I'd had the night before. I dreamed that I was dead and that my body had melted into the ground so that I was one with the grass. All the people I knew were looking for me but couldn't find me. Everyone but my neighbor Mary Lou, who said she knew exactly where I was. She led a group of people that included Dave, Connie, Marco, Parker, Dutch and Milo to where I lay. Dutch walked right over me, and I could feel the rubber of his sole as it mashed down on my chest. He looked right and left and said he couldn't see me; everyone else nodded in agreement I shouted up to him with my grassy lips, but he couldn't hear me, so Mary Lou began to plant marigolds in a flower outline of where I lay. When she was finished she stood up and said, "See? I told you she was here!" Then I woke up, startled and chilled by something I couldn't quite place.