The Christmas Wedding - James Patterson [39]
I paused. I blinked a few times.
“And I dream about my family. My kids. Their kids. I am forever falling asleep at night and seeing four-year-old Lizzie’s fat little legs running away from Pincus the pig. Or watching Seth as a teenager coming home at six in the morning and sneaking through the laundry room window. One day—and this was real life, not a dream—I found myself looking through a cardboard box filled with hockey sticks and baseball gloves made for very little hands. Another time, I was straightening books on the shelf, and I pulled down Goodnight Moon, and I recalled how all four of you kids thought this was the finest piece of literature ever written. And then…I dreamed that we were all together again for Christmas.
“And here we are. Just like in my dreams. And when someone asked me to get married, and then someone else, and so on and so forth, I knew this was a good idea. I knew that the only four people in the world who were nosier than me were my children.
“And it worked! We’re all here! The tables are set in the barn. The conductor’s ready to strike up the band. Today has been one of the best days of my life, and I know tomorrow will be even better.
“So thank you all for coming this Christmas Eve. Thank you to my wonderful children—Claire and Lizzie and Emily and Seth. Thank you to my incredible grandchildren. And most of all, thank you to—in no particular order—Jacob, Tom, Marty, and Stacey Lee. You are the best friends anyone could ever have. I love you, and I know you all love me. Even better, you put up with me. Most of the time.
“Everyone! See you tomorrow. And see you in my dreams!”
Chapter 46
AND THAT WAS it for Christmas Eve. Well, almost.
The Summerhill family had a drinking-and-driving rule, a rule made many years before. We called it the Double Designated-Driver Rule. All it meant was that there were always two people who had to stay sober for driving. So if one of the two drivers decided to refresh himself with an after-dinner cognac, there was always another person ready to take the wheel.
Claire’s pickup truck was piloted by Claire herself, who had not had a drink in five years. Seth had offered to drive. He’d stuck to Pellegrino all night, because of our rule, but, as he put it, “If I’m driving and a cop stops us, he’s going to think I’m drunk no matter what. C’mon, a car being driven by a guy dressed like a reindeer’s ass?”
So Claire did the driving while Seth, Andie, the twins, and I did the gossiping about the evening.
Ten minutes later Claire was pulling into the long driveway at the house. As she shifted into park, I looked out and saw somebody walking toward us. And suddenly I realized that the night wasn’t quite over.
“That asshole,” Claire said.
It was Hank, of course.
“Am I late for the party?” he said as we got out of the truck. No one answered him.
I had that sense you sometimes get when someone is really good at disguising how drunk he is but you somehow know he’s drunk anyway. That’s how Hank seemed to me.
“Gaby, I understand congrats are in order,” he said.
“And I understand there are some rooms at Motel Six in Lenox. I’ll get you a reservation and drive you there,” I answered.
“Why would I wanna do that when the family is all here?” he laughed.
At that moment Emily and Bart’s little BMW came quickly down the driveway. People started climbing out of it as if it were a clown car at the circus—Emily, Bart, Gus, Stacey Lee.
“It’s a regular fucking Summerhill family reunion,” Hank said. He moved closer to Claire and me. And Seth and Bart moved toward him.
“Ooooh, Dr. Fucking Wonderful and the boy prodigy are here to protect the womenfolk,” Hank said. “Think the two of you can handle me? I doubt that very much.”
“Take Gaby’s advice, Hank,” Seth said calmly. “We’ll drive you to a motel.”
Hank started to shout then, and to wave his arms up and down, and occasionally to leave his feet. “What? And miss the celebration? Miss the miracle that some jack-off is willing to marry this old bag? That somebody,