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EARLY THE FOLLOWING morning, while Alex continued to snore lightly in our bed, I got out of bed, put on my white satin robe, and went to Blackwell’s bedroom. She reared straight up in the bed when I woke her, and then I asked her to follow me to the kitchen.
It was just five o’clock and we’d only gotten a few hours of sleep, but I knew that she wanted questions answered about Daniella and Cutter, and it was best to answer them while we were alone and everyone else was still asleep.
“Put the coffee on,” she said as she tied her black robe around herself and we stepped into the kitchen. “I need several injections of it.”
“You’re not alone—I’m putting it on now.”
“Why do I feel as if I’m hung over?”
“How many martinis did you have last night?”
“Marcus just kept ordering them. I have no idea—but likely way too many.”
“So, you two got along?”
“If I say anything positive about my interactions with him, you’re just going to start to map out the wedding.”
“I will not. What was he like?”
“Before we get to that, why is your hair a horror show right now?”
“Seriously? I just got up.”
“And you couldn’t have even run a brush through it for me? I certainly did for you. Why is your husband still in love with you if you insist on getting up looking like rats have nested in your weave?”
“I don’t have a weave. And my husband loves me just as much as I love him—with no bounds.”
“Tell that to your divorce lawyer in two years.”
“Oh, whatever. Why don’t you tell me about Marcus before people start to wake up. We only have a limited amount of time to talk in private before that happens. So, come on—spill it!”
“I need coffee first.”
“It’s coming.”
“Then we’ll talk when it comes.”
When the pot was filled, I poured her a cup—black, just as she liked it.
“And let’s just thank God for this,” she said as she took her first sip. “While there’s a chance that I might still be slightly drunk, at least I can be awake through it all.”
I poured myself a cup, added a bit of cream and Stevia to it, and then sat next to her at the island. “Tell me about him,” I said.
“He’s intriguing. He’s handsome. He’s worthy of a second glance.”
“What did you two talk about? You were gone for hours.”
“I don’t know. We talked about everything. It seemed unusually easy talking to him. Maybe that was because he took the time to listen to me in ways that Charles never did. We talked about our children, about our divorces, about our jobs, and all sorts of meaningless trivia along the way.”
“Did you have fun?”
“Define ‘fun’.”
“Why are you always so difficult?”
“Define ‘difficult’.”
“Jesus! Did you enjoy yourself, or not?”
She blew over her cup of coffee and then just rolled her eyes at me. “Well of course I did. I didn’t invite him to Christmas Eve because I loathed him. As I said, he’s intriguing. I enjoyed how easy it was to talk with him. He’s bright. He’s intuitive and disarmingly funny. And I liked how his mind worked—we talked a lot about business. He’s savvy—and clearly successful. I find that attractive. But we only talked for a few hours, so don’t get your panties in a knot over any of this, because I’m certainly not. When you turn my age, Jennifer, and have been through a failed marriage—which I hope will never happen to you—you become very guarded. It’s a cliché, but your heart truly does become a steel trap. And it’s wounded and bruised. That said, I did enjoy myself. He seems like a perfectly nice man, so we’ll see what tonight brings—and if he remains equally disarming. But enough about him. What I want to know is what Cutter and Daniella were up to.”
Since I knew that was weighing heavily on her mind, I just got to it and told her everything I knew.
“Cutter started this?” she said.
“He did.”
“But why? I love my daughter deeply, but everyone knows that she’s a goddamned train wreck. Where did this come from? Cutter isn’t stupid—he sees what all of us see in her. A monsoon! He’s so on the straight and narrow when it comes to his life. I’m sorry to say that I just can’t see him inviting Daniella into it, as much as it pains me to say that. I want Daniella to find love, but with Cutter? I can’t see that happening—and that’s strictly between us.”
“Everything being said right now is between us.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “You know, I love that boy—and if my daughter could finally get her shit together, I’d love nothing more than for her to be with him. But I’m confounded that we’re even discussing this. What is all this about? Please enlighten me. Because I don’t understand any of it.”
“Here’s what Alex and I discerned. When Cutter was talking to Daniella before they went off to a table of their own, he mentioned the time that Daniella had spent with him when his life was on the line on the island. You remember how she was there for him when we thought we were going to lose him—she was at his side in ways that none of us were. I think he’s thought long and hard about that over these past few months, and perhaps questioned who Daniella really is as a person because of that. She’s a complicated girl.”
“The understatement of the decade.”
“But she also can be a wonderful person—we all know that because we’ve witnessed it for ourselves. I think that Cutter saw the real Daniella when she was there for him. That girl did everything she could to make sure that he left that island alive. And don’t forget that when Cutter was first returned to us, he was still coherent. I think it was at that point that he remembers what Daniella did for him. After that, he became too sick to remember any of it. And I believe that with the passing of time—and with some serious reflection—that has come to mean something to him. He knows Daniella’s potential. Last night, he said to her that he thought she acted up because she had been hurt by too many men, and that maybe what she really needed was a real man to bring out the person he remembered on that island.”
“Well, I would agree with that. Daniella tends to hook up with losers—not to sound like Donald Trump, but it’s true. She has a serious case of low self-esteem that reveals itself in the worst of ways.”
And then Blackwell paused for a moment. “You know, the divorce was especially hard on Daniella,” she said. “Because Daniella was nothing if not a Daddy’s girl. Before Charles and I separated, she never acted like this. But the moment the papers were signed and the divorce was settled, she became this completely different person. She went to hell. So, all of her behavior is likely on me because I’m the one who initiated that divorce.”
“What were you to do? Charles cheated on you. Were you supposed to stay in that marriage given what he’d done to you?”
“Many others would have,” she said. “For their families. I chose not to for two reasons. First, when I learned about what he’d done to me and to our family, he was dead to me. Second, I wanted to set an example for my daughters, so they’d know that no man ever should treat them like that—and if one did, they needed to dump his ass and move forward with their lives, just as I have. While that sounded right to me at the time, I’m fairly certain that my decision might have affected Daniella more than it did Alexa, who is more rational than her sister. And that kills me.”
“How could you have stayed with him after what he’d done to you?” I asked. “You couldn’t. However Daniella and Alexa have interpreted the situation, what you showed them are character and strength. Hopefully, what Daniella will eventually take away from your decision to leave Charles is that no woman in a committed relationship should ever remain with a partner who cheats on her. By divorcing Charles, you sent a solid, meaningful message to your girls. You said that you were better than that, and by doing that alone, you essentially told Daniella and Alexa that they also should never tolerate that kind of behavior in their own relationships.”
“I think that Alexa gets it, but not Daniella,” she said. “Alexa hasn’t changed the way that Daniella has, but then Daniella always was closer to her father than Alexa was—and she’s always been the more emotional one. Psychologically, I think that she was the one who was most damaged by our divorce. And that damage has revealed itself in ways that many of us would rather forget. She hasn’t been herself since I filed papers. She’s not the sweet girl I remember from before the divorce. She’s regressed to the point that she’s become intolerable. I think that she’s seriously been affected by the divorce. I mean, look at her now—a combative mess. I’m directly responsible for that. Charles fought to save our marriage, but I was having none of it. The girls know that I walked away from our marriage, for better or worse.”
I placed my hand on her arm.
“I do adore you, you know?” she said.
“Well you are, after all, my surrogate womb.”
“Please, for the love of God, stop saying that.”
I gave her a kiss on the cheek and told her that I loved her.
“I love you, too,” she said. “Somehow, as unfathomable as it is to me, you’ve managed to become my third daughter.”
“Who knew?” I said.
“Who knew, indeed?”
“Well, I guess that all we can do now is let the day play out and see how tonight goes,” I said. “After last night with Cutter, Daniella has a lot on her mind right now, and she’s probably had a fitful sleep. She knows that if she doesn’t straighten up, her chances with Cutter are in serious question. As for Cutter, I’m sure he’s processing his own feelings for her and what transpired between them last night. He might even be awake right now, wondering to himself how to move forward—if he even wants to move forward.”
“Let’s just pray that he does,” Blackwell said. “Because he’s the one who decided to open that door, and I know my daughter. If she does rein herself in and he nevertheless decides to take a step back? God help us all. And God help him if he does so, because he’s the one who started this—and if he ends it with no good reason, then I’ll end it with him in ways that boy won’t soon forget.”
