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“I’M SO GLAD THAT YOU’RE here,” I said as Lisa, Tank, Kate, and Ben stepped out of the elevator and greeted us in the foyer.
“I second that,” Alex said as he moved beside me and placed his hand gently against the low of my back. “Tonight is now officially on.”
As I kissed Lisa and Kate on the cheek and Alex shook hands with Tank and Ben, we quickly switched positions, and soon I was kissing Tank and Ben while Alex did the same with Lisa and Kate.
“Good God, Jennifer, you look amazing,” Kate said as she stepped back and admired my gown. “How can it be that you gave birth just a week ago?”
“Let’s get real,” I said. “When it comes to my body, it’s all smoke and mirrors—and Spanx of course. But thanks for the compliment, Kate. And by the way,” I said as she removed her red overcoat. “You look terrific too.”
And she did. She was wearing a metallic beaded gown by J. Mendel, which I recognized immediately if only because Mendel was one of Blackwell’s favorite designers. With Kate’s beautiful brown hair swept up behind her neck in a loose chignon—and with a thrilling host of diamonds glimmering at her throat—I thought she looked fabulous.
And then I turned to Lisa.
Apparently, she had come to own this party and to shut everyone down—and I loved her for it because I knew the reason why.
As Alex removed her coat, she looked straight at me, put her hand on her hip, and struck a pose.
“Consider this my armor against the darkness otherwise known as Blackwell,” she said.
She was wearing a striking Alexander McQueen damask lace gown with a nude underlay, a mock neckline with picot trim, and long sleeves with picot cuffs. Unlike the rest of us women, who had worn darker colors, Lisa had gone for winter white. And it worked. With her blonde hair and fair complexion—not to mention her slimmer-than-slim figure—she looked like an ice princess.
“That dress is to die for,” I said.
“Good, because I came here to slay,” she said. “Let’s not forget that my arch nemesis is within mere feet of me. You know—the one who has bad ideas when it comes to throwing important baby showers. I had to come here looking my best if only to show her up.”
“You certainly didn’t need to spend thirty grand on a gown to do that,” I said.
“Oh, but I did. And I’ve already told you why. So let’s do this shit. Bring me to the evil one!”
At that moment, a waiter came over to us.
“Mr. or Mrs. Wenn, Helga would like to speak to you by phone.”
“It’s Aiden,” I said. “He’s probably not sleeping.”
“Let me get this,” Alex said. “Take our friends into the living room with the others. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
He gave me a kiss before he said, “I’m positive. Now go. I’ll deal with Helga and the baby.”
“I’m sorry,” I said to everyone when Alex had left. “Aiden doesn’t sleep well if he’s not being held by one of us. And since this is his bedtime, our nanny for the night is probably having a problem getting him down.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” Kate said. “We’re your friends, and we get it. Given how busy and tired you must be, I still can’t believe that you even managed to throw a party tonight.”
“Let’s just say that we had plenty of help. And trust me—I was hoping that tonight would go off seamlessly, which it hasn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
I told them about Daniella’s reconciliation with Cutter, which had been tense and awkward until she finally decided to forgive him, and about how I feared that Blackwell—of all people—was headed straight into the bag after she decided to break up with Marcus.
“She did what?” Lisa asked.
“She broke up with him.”
“On Christmas eve?”
“That’s how Blackwell rolls.”
“I can’t believe it,” she said. “I really liked Marcus. They seemed good for each other. Why the split?”
“Because they’ve only seen each other in person eight times this year.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“Apparently, he’s a busy man. Tonight, when he was too busy to accompany her here on Christmas eve of all evenings, Blackwell decided that she deserved better than that, and frankly, I don’t blame her.”
“Neither do I,” Lisa said.
“But I’m concerned about her. At first, I thought she was fine. You know how she can be—acting as if nothing seems to touch her. But when I left her to greet you a moment ago, she was pretty much one drink shy of being in the cups.”
“That’s not like her at all,” Lisa said. “Blackwell’s always in control.”
“You’re right—this isn’t like her. But it’s her right now. She ordered her third martini just before I came to greet you. And here’s something that will surprise absolutely no one who knows her—she’s drinking on a nearly empty stomach.” I shook my head. “Because of that alone, we should probably go to the living room now just in case I need to help right a sinking ship.”
* * *
WHEN WE WALKED INTO the living room, I announced that our final guests had arrived and everyone turned to greet them.
Daniella, Cutter, Alexa, Epifania, and Rudman all gathered around Lisa, Tank, Kate, and Ben to wish them a Merry Christmas, while Blackwell—who was standing in front of the Christmas tree in a halo of colored lights—simply lifted her glass in their direction while she brushed off a server who had dared to offer her a canapé.
“I don’t eat,” she said to him. “As in almost never.” She tapped a finger against the side of her martini glass. “But as for this? I’ll have another one of these very soon, so please keep an eye out for me when I raise my empty glass to you.”
If she keeps drinking like this, she’s headed straight for disaster, I thought. What is wrong with her? She never behaves like this. It has to be Marcus. She fooled me when she said that she was relieved their relationship was over. Clearly that isn’t the case.
Tank and Ben had brought two large bags filled with gifts for Alex, Aiden, and me, and when they asked me where they should put them, I motioned toward the tree, where Blackwell stood with her martini to her lips.
“You both look perfectly handsome in your tuxes,” she said as they put the gifts next to the tree. “Well done, boys.”
She stood on tiptoe so that she could give each of them a kiss on the cheek, and I saw her totter a bit as she did so. She wasn’t drunk quite yet, but another martini would be the end of her. And so I walked over to her and took hold of her arm. For years, she’d had my back. Tonight, I needed to have hers.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
“Never better.”
“Why do I think that isn’t true...?”
She paused a moment before she finished her drink. “Because we share no secrets...?”
“What’s going on with you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s Marcus, isn’t it?”
“So what if it is? Listen to me, love—all I need is another drink and ten minutes to fully absorb what’s happened tonight, and then I’ll get over the disappointment the day has offered.”
“In my opinion, you’ve had enough to drink.”
“Then by all means, my darling one, feel free to Google, ‘I don’t give a shit what you think.’”
“Really?” I said. “You don’t?”
“Not entirely true, but true enough at the moment. And by the way, that’s good enough for me.”
I put my arm around her shoulders and held her close to me while others in the room mixed, laughed, and talked.
“I’m sorry that he wasn’t there for you,” I said.
“No sorrier than I am, but it is what it is, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.”
“Well, it is. Here’s what you should know, Jennifer—men always will be men. I simply was duped into believing in them again. But trust me—after tonight? That trust won’t come so easily next time. If there even is a next time. Because I’m thinking there won’t be—certainly not after him.”
“Were you in love with him?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said wistfully. “Maybe I was. I know that I certainly was close to falling for him. But that’s over now, isn’t it? What you must never forget is that I’m strong, Jennifer. I might have had a few too many martinis tonight, but given my disappointment, I also believe that I’m entitled to have a few too many, if only to console my heartbreak.”
“Your heartbreak?” I said, not knowing the depths of what she was going through.
“Yes, that. I went through it before with Charles, and now I’m feeling the sting of it again with Marcus. I tried to make it work with him—to see him as often as I could—but despite my best efforts, he rarely made time for me. What hurts me most is that if he had found the time, I know that we could have been a force.”
“I’m so sorry, Barbara—I can’t say it enough.”
“And I appreciate that, darling—I do. But it’s all behind me now, isn’t it? I decided to call it off, and when I did, I knew in my gut that I made the right decision for me.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because that man is just like me. He’s all about his work, which is one of the reasons we clicked in the first place. Relationships come second in our lives—well, at least our secondary relationships. I know for a fact that he always will be there for his daughters, just as I always will be there for mine—which includes you. But until I really came to mean something to Marcus, Jennifer, he’d always choose work over me, as he did tonight. Now, look, I might be disappointed this evening, but what you need to know is that I don’t hold Marcus accountable for his absence throughout our courtship. What’s over is over. And by the way, love, after admitting all of that to you, I think I really do need another drink...”
“What you really need is to eat something,” I said to her. “At the very least, you have to have a canapé or three, because you are teetering on the edge of losing your composure right now, Barbara, and I know in my gut that you don’t want to embarrass yourself if you drink too much.”
“Then bring on the canapés,” she said.
I was about to call a waiter over when she said, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been quite as lit as I am tonight. And I mean that. I never allow myself to go this far—certainly you know that. Is it just the vodka talking, or is it getting rid of Marcus that’s done me in? I think we both know the answer to that question—it’s him. Or, hell, maybe it’s something else, such as the new spring line, which Vogue recently revealed in its latest issue, and which was such a major disappointment to me, I nearly wept at my desk. At this point, it doesn’t matter. And I do agree with you—I probably should eat something, because after downing that last drink, the room is starting to spin. I need to get myself back on track...”
I called over a waiter, a handsome young man with a silver tray that was filled with canapés. “Have the beef tenderloin,” I said to her. “Have some protein, some fat.”
“Fat?” she said in horror. “Do you even know who you’re talking to?”
“I do. And yes—fat.”
“I can’t eat fat in front of these people,” she said. “All of them are looking at me now with drumbeats of concern—including my own daughters, each of whom look horrified at what’s become of their mother tonight.”
“How about if we turn around and pretend that we’re admiring the tree?” I said. “Then you can have as many canapés as you want with no one watching.”
“Fine! If that’s what it will take, I’ll succumb to the fat. But just this once! Give me that beef thingy thing that you were just talking about.”
Startled that she was beginning to slur her words, I plucked one off the tray and gave it to her as she turned to face the tree to eat it. But when she did so, she turned so quickly that she lost her footing and her balance. In what seemed like slow motion to me, Blackwell actually lost it and started to fall straight into the tree.
“Oh dear,” she said as she pitched toward it.
“Oh God,” I said as I looked on in horror.
“I believe that I’m about to go down!” she bellowed as she threw her canapé high into the air and reached out her arms toward the tree. “And this tree is going to be my victim!”
“Not if I can help it!”
I tried, but I couldn’t help the inevitable. When Blackwell’s ankles twisted in on themselves and she crashed into the tree, her martini glass slipped from her hand and smashed to the floor in a shattering of glass as several ornaments followed suit. As she tried to grab hold to several branches in an effort to steady herself, I looked on in horror as the tree shook and trembled, while an embarrassing array of ornaments rained down onto the floor in the unfolding chaos.
“Heyzeus Cristo!” I heard Epifania call out. “Somebody better say the timber now, because that tree about to go over!”
I got hold of Blackwell’s Chanel blazer and tried to grab her, but it was to no avail. I simply wasn’t strong enough to stop the inevitable from happening.
Until Cutter intervened.
“Here,” he said as he wrapped his arm around Blackwell’s waist as the tree shook and several other ornaments smashed on the floor. “I’ve got you.”
“But do you have my daughter?” Blackwell said as she turned to him while I righted the tree as everyone looked on. “That’s what I need to know. Because I worry about her, Cutter. I’ve seen what she’s gone through since you decided to shun her, and I can’t just sit back and say that your behavior hasn’t affected me or anyone else in this room.”
“I love Daniella,” he said.
“Do you?” she asked. “Now isn’t the time for bullshit, Cutter. I need to know if your love for her is real.”
“It is,” he said as they parted. “I got cold feet, and I’m sorry, because now I see that my actions didn’t just affect her. They also affected those who love her. I’m sorry, Barbara. It won’t happen again.”
“Best that it not,” she said as she patted her bob while I placed the palm of my hand firmly against her back. “Now, before I make an even bigger fool of myself, will somebody please get me to a chair? Or to a sofa? Or whatever I might need to sit on so that I’m no longer a danger to this party. My apologies to everyone,” she said with steel in her voice. “Que c’est embarrassant...”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I said as I led her to a comfortable chair away from the tree. One of the waiters was already sweeping up the mess of broken glass.
“Please,” she said to me. “I just dove headfirst into a tree in front of all of our friends and family. Tonight couldn’t get any worse.”
“What’s the problem,” I heard Alex say when he returned to the room. “What’s wrong with Barbara?”
“Mother decided to go belly up and fly into the tree,” Daniella said.
“She did not,” Alexa said when she joined her sister. “She just lost her footing, that’s all.”
“Right,” Daniella said. “After having about a million martinis.”
“That’s enough,” Alex said in a warning tone. I looked up as he walked over to us with concern stamped on his face. “Are you OK?” he asked Blackwell.
“Just humiliated to my core, but nothing that I shan’t overcome.”
At that moment, I heard a host of swooning sounds before Helga’s distinct voice rang out into the room.
“Boy need nipple!” she said.
Really, Helga? I thought. You’re announcing this now?
When I turned to her, I saw that Aiden was swaddled in her arms in a blue blanket. I also saw that he was squirming and crying such that no one—not even a trained nanny like Helga—could console him. He needed his mother right now, so I hurried over and took him from her arms.
“I’m so sorry,” I said to Helga.
“I try my best, but boy don’t want bottle. Boy want nipple!”
“Perhaps we could go into the bathroom just off the foyer?” I said. “I can feed him in there.”
“That perfect,” she said. “We go there.”
I apologized to everyone before I left, I saw Lisa mouth the words “I’m so sorry, Jennifer” before I disappeared, and then I left the group with Aiden in my arms.
As I walked down the hallway to the first-floor bathroom with Helga hustling behind me in an effort to keep up, I looked down at my son’s beautiful face and saw that he’d stopped crying and now was just smiling up at me. At the sight of that alone, I nearly burst into tears at the love that I felt for him before I excused myself from Helga, went into the bathroom, and then started to feed Aiden—while the distant rhythms of this peculiar Christmas eve carried on without me.
