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EMMA
Dad attempted Christmas breakfast with Grandpa as his accomplice. I wasn't allowed to help, but I did supervise by reminding Dad to turn over the pancakes before they burned and Grandpa to put a splash guard on the frying pan so he wouldn't get singed with bacon grease. Dad was a pro at making eggs so he didn't need any assistance there. They did let me put on a pot of coffee.
"Wendy was going to come over a little early to help us with dinner, if that's all right with you," Grandpa said.
He looked meek as if worried I'd erupt into a fit of rage. "Sure, that’s fine. I could always use some extra help. Which reminds me, I've got to prepare the turkey once we're done opening presents."
"About presents...I thought we could open them this evening, once Wendy gets here."
"Oh, okay," I said. We were bucking tradition, but Grandpa seemed really excited about the whole Wendy thing.
We dove into breakfast and I was impressed with the pancakes. Dad had added chocolate chips to the batter. He was finally taking some of my advice and thinking outside the box...sort of.
Grandpa and I chatted about school while Dad flipped through the newspaper looking for the crossword. The rustling stopped and Dad stared at whatever had caught his attention. Someone die? Dad had a fascination with the obituaries.
He lowered the paper and looked at me, his face mired in confusion. Without a word he passed me the community section. I looked through the pictures and gasped. There I was, posing with Zach, my name in the caption as Zach's girlfriend.
"Care to explain?" he asked. He was a bit annoyed, and I couldn’t blame him.
"He's not my boyfriend," was the first thing out of my mouth. And then I thought of Bianca. Did she see or hear about his? Was that why the texts started again?
"Let me see," Grandpa said, taking the section from me. "Oh, he's handsome and a senator's son. You could do a lot worse," he cooed.
"No, he's not my boyfriend," I protested. "He and his sister invited me to the party. Genie is a friend of mine." More truth-stretching. I was going straight to hell.
"Is this the guy you were talking about?"
"Dad!"
"Your grandfather is eventually going to find out. Why the secret?"
"Zach and I are friends, that's it. The photographer got it wrong."
"I think you make the cutest couple," Grandpa said. Now that he was in love, he wanted everyone to be.
Dad pressed his lips into a thin line. "Emma, you didn't even tell me about this."
My cheeks flushed. Busted. "It was a last-minute invitation. It wasn't a big deal."
"A party at the Walker house is a big deal," Grandpa said.
I shot him a warning glance. He responded with an apologetic shrug.
"I was going to tell you but I forgot about it. Really, it was nothing."
Dad's eyes stared hard at me. He was a human lie detector. "Why do I think you're not telling me everything?"
What did I do? He wasn't going to let it go. I bit down on my lip, trying to think of something fast, but nothing was coming other than the truth. "I did like him, but I knew right away that it wasn't right. Before anything got started, I shut it down. The caption is still wrong. He was never my boyfriend. That's it."
"Paul, cut the kid some slack," Grandpa said, rising from the table and grabbing our empty plates. "No need to pour salt in the wound."
Dad's hard stare softened. "If this changes... "
"I promise you'll be the first to know."
"Well, let's clean this place up. We have a guest coming," Grandpa said.
That was over, thanks to Grandpa. Next, I focused on dinner duty while Dad cleaned up our breakfast dishes. Grandpa disappeared to catch up on paperwork then ready himself since Wendy was expected in a few hours. I decided it was time to bake. Of everything in the kitchen, baking relaxed me most. With the few hours I had, I made Dad's favorite shortbread and Grandpa's gingerbread cookies. I was arranging them on a platter when Wendy arrived. I wandered over to the front door to see Grandpa taking Wendy's coat. Her eyes fell on me and she smiled.
"And you must be Emma."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Wendy."
"Your grandfather’s told so many great things about you. And I hear you're quite the chef."
My trusty old bullshit meter dove into action, this time on Wendy, but it wasn't going off. She seemed sincere. And though she'd never replace Grandma, she did have a grandmotherly quality about her. Grandpa had told me she was divorced with a son living on the East Coast. She wasn't spending the holidays with him and his family because she had a trip planned out there in the New Year. Or maybe she wanted to spend Christmas with Grandpa? And while she used to be a ruthless prosecutor—Grandpa's words—she had a straightforward simplicity to her. Black slacks, a fuzzy baby blue cashmere sweater, and although her nails were done, she didn't have on layers of makeup and her light brown hair was cut short—a style easy to maintain. She was elegant and gracious.
"Thank you for the kind words."
"And if you need any help, put me to work."
"Would you like some homemade eggnog?" Grandpa asked. "Emma made it herself."
"I'd love some," Wendy said, beaming.
I liked that Wendy seemed kind and soft-spoken. I'd been a little worried about meeting her, thinking I'd have to walk on eggshells or she'd make me wither under a barrage of questions, but it seemed she'd left that behind for small-town life.
"What are you taking in school?" Wendy asked.
"I'm in my first year so I'm still trying to sort things out."
"I got my English degree before I realized I wanted to be a lawyer. Just remember that you're young and you have lots of time." She sipped the eggnog. "Oh, this is divine."
Dad, who'd been loitering around but not saying much, jumped into the conversation. "Wendy, do you know the Walkers? What's his name? The senator."
"Oh yes, Daniel Walker. I don't know him per se; met him a few times and he has a good reputation."
"How about his kids?"
"Dad!"
Wendy's grey eyes looked from me to Dad. "I haven't heard a thing about them, and for a politician, that's a good thing."
I laughed nervously, wanting to throttle Dad. Time to make my exit. "I'm going to finish up dinner," I said, rising and giving Dad the stink-eye as I passed.
"Let me help," Wendy offered.
I wasn't entirely sure I wanted her help, but to refuse would disappoint Grandpa, so we got to work. The turkey needed a few more minutes in the oven before resting for at least a half hour. Wendy peeled potatoes and I stuffed mushrooms. I was attempting acorn squash for the first time and prepped them with fresh ground pepper, Himalayan salt, and a parmesan rub. Once the turkey came out, they'd go in.
"I don't mean to be nosy, but I'm guessing you're the reason your dad asked about the Walkers?"
"Zach and I are just friends. The stupid paper published a picture of us saying that we were dating."
"How'd they get a picture of the two of you?" she asked.
"I was at their Christmas party."
"And with the both of you at the party, I guess the paper assumed."
"So now Dad's all bent out of shape."
Wendy saw the paper lying on the kitchen table and glanced at it. "Well, he's certainly easy on the eyes."
My cheeks blushed and I made sure to keep my face hidden from Wendy. "Like I said, we're just friends."
"How did you get invited to a Walker party? Invitations like those are pretty exclusive."
"Zach invited me—I mean, Genie invited me. His sister."
If Wendy had a bullshit meter, it had to be off the charts.
"How many friends did the Walker kids invite?"
"I don't know, but I wasn't paying attention. Genie's boyfriend was there, but I guess the rest of the guests were donors and friends."
"I see. All your grandfather does is talk about you, so if I'm overstepping, you tell me to mind my own business, but usually a senator's son invites only special people to fundraisers like that."
My face was growing more crimson by the second. "Zach is a really nice person."
"I bet he is. How many potatoes should I peel?"
"I think six is enough," I said relieved that she'd changed topics.
"What is Zach doing for Christmas?"
Damn. "I don't know. I'm sure he's spending it with his family. He may have mentioned a ski trip with friends."
"And how long have you been friends?"
"Since the beginning of the school year. Do you like spinach in your mashed potatoes?"
"I love spinach and I've never had it in mashed potatoes before. Sounds intriguing." She peeled the last potato and brought them to the sink to wash. She glanced over at me as I coated the squash. "How did you meet him?"
"Jake, he used—he's a friend. He introduced us." Damn. I could see why she was such a good prosecutor. She had me tripping all over myself.
Wendy piled the potatoes in a colander. "Should I cube them and get a pot on for them?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Jake is your roommate? Henry mentioned that."
Grandpa sure did share a lot with Wendy. "Uh, yeah."
"Sweetie, I'm going to be honest with you. Your grandfather asked me to come early so that I could get to know you and talk to you about, you know, girl things. It seems your dad is really worried about you, and as much I want to help them out, I feel a need to be honest with you. Please don't tell them I told you. And if you want me to butt out, I'd understand fully."
In so many ways Wendy wasn't anything like Grandma. Grandma had doted on me, made quilts in her spare time, played cards every Sunday night with her friends, volunteered at the church, and didn't care about clothes or makeup—probably the exact opposite of Wendy. Grandma was a simple woman. Wendy was a lawyer, a woman who would have intimidated Grandma, but despite all that, I felt a kinship to her. She liked Grandpa a lot, it was obvious, and even though she didn't give off the warmth Grandma did, I was drawn to her. I made a split-second decision.
"Can you keep a secret?"
She nodded.
"Jake kicked me out of our apartment after I punched his girlfriend in the face. Zach took me in and gave me the spare room at his place where I've been living ever since. Jake and I no longer talk. Please don't tell Dad or Grandpa." I felt like those people who walk into sacred rivers and are cleansed. The burden was lifted, the lies out in the open.
Her eyes bugged open. "Well, I wasn't anticipating all that! You did what? You don't seem like the type of young lady to have that kind of outburst."
I told Wendy all about Bianca over another cup of eggnog. We sat at the kitchen table and I relayed it all, every last detail right down to the kiss. She listened, enthralled by every word. At one point she stopped me, telling me she needed another glass.
"You really should tell your Dad," she said, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"It will kill him. I figure I'll just let the school year end and come up with some story why Jake and I aren't living together next year. And you never know, Jake and Bianca could break up."
"They could, but is Jake still someone you'd call a friend?"
I deflated. "I guess not."
"I will keep your confidence, but at some point your dad is owed the truth."
"I know."
"And about Zach...he seems like a really nice young man. From one girl to another, you might want to give him a chance."
I looked at the clock. It was getting late for dinner. We mashed potatoes, plated food, and called Dad and Grandpa to the dinner table. As we all sat together, I wondered if I could trust Wendy and if she really intended to keep her word. Well, I'd know if she didn't. Dad and Grandpa would be all over me the second they found out.