“Have Rapti call with a time,” I said. “But, Jill, I really liked Sam. Don’t expect me to be impartial.”
“I’m sure Kathryn Morrissey’s interview with the competition will balance things out,” Jill said acidly. Then she slammed down the phone. It seemed our friendship was about to become another casualty of Kathryn Morrissey’s ambition. I wanted to cry. Instead, I went into the kitchen and made a pitcher of martinis. Zack had taught me his recipe – Citadelle Gin, enough Noilly Prat to round out the sharpness of the gin, and ice. I put the pitcher and two glasses in the fridge, arranged cheese and crackers on a plate, filled a bowl with more olives, then made up the hide-a-bed in the family room. When Zack arrived, I handed him a martini at the door.
He grinned. “Hey, aren’t you supposed be naked and wrapped in Saran Wrap when you do that?”
“I’m out of Saran Wrap.”
“Naked would have been okay.” He sipped his martini. “Oh God, that’s good. Come here.” He kissed me. “You’re good, but the world is an awful place.”
“I take it your encounter with Beverly didn’t go well.”
He handed me his martini and pointed his chair towards the kitchen “All Mrs. P cared about was ‘maintaining dignity,’ which meant keeping Glenda away from the press, and the size of my bill – which, incidentally, grew every time she opened her yap.” Zack cut a piece of Oka and wolfed it. “This is just what I needed. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I’ll make it up to you. How are you doing?”
“Not great,” I said. “But hanging in. I had a phone call from Kathryn Morrissey.”
“Whoa. What was on her mind?”
“She wanted to talk – said she needed my help.”
“I’m guessing some publisher has offered her a bundle to write about the Sam Parker trial.”
“That was my thought too,” I said.
Zack popped an olive in his mouth. “So what did you tell her?”
“I told her I had nothing to say and she could delete my name from her address book.”
“That sounds final.”
“I hope so. If I never see the woman again it will be too soon.”
“Moi aussi. Hey, one piece of good news. Glenda got in touch. She left a message at the office, apologizing for running off. She said she just needed to be alone. I understand the impulse. I feel like someone’s peeled the skin off me.”
“Is the martini helping?”
“Yes. So is the food. So is being with you.”
“I’ve got the daybed made up. When we’re finished our drink, I thought we could unplug the phone and take a nap.”
Zack’s eyes widened. “That is the best idea. Let’s go.”
The day of the party the girls had covered the windows in the family room with pale green tissue paper and fixed huge construction paper talons and beaks against them. Taylor had been so taken with the effect that she’d asked if she could leave the decorations up till Halloween. The afternoon light straining to come through the green tissue paper gave the room an unearthly glow. Zack took it in and nodded approvingly. “Sealed off from the world with giant birds to guard us,” he said. “Let’s stay in here forever.” We took off our clothes, fell into each other’s arms, and slept.
Two hours in the comforting proximity of a lover was therapeutic. By the time Taylor, Gracie, and Isobel came home to get ready to go trick-or-treating, the daybed was up and we were dealing with life. Zack was back at the office, and I was sitting at the table with my laptop, running through the Sam Parker file.
The girls and I ate dinner early. By the time we rinsed the dishes, the first small trick-or-treaters were at the door. I took my place by the bowl of candy and the girls went upstairs to get ready.
The triplets outfits Isobel, Gracie, and Taylor had worn at their party had been a hit, but everyone had seen them. Tonight the members of the trio were going out as cheerleaders. Taylor and I had had a discussion about the wisdom of girls their age going out at all. The innocence of an early Halloween evening had a way of souring when the hour grew late and only unaccompanied adolescents roamed the streets. But Taylor had pointed out, sensibly enough, that she would be with Gracie and Isobel, and I had asked her to promise to be home by 9:30 p.m. It had been a compromise, and when the three girls came downstairs in their cheerleading outfits, I was glad I’d caved. With their pompoms, pleated skirts, and heavy sweaters, they looked very 1950s and very cute. I got out the camera and shot enough Kodak moments to satisfy even me.
Given everything, it was good to be distracted by the repeated ringing of the doorbell, and the appearance of ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggety beasties and things that go bump in the night. Willie wasn’t impressed by our string of visitors, but I was, and when the phone rang, I was feeling mellow enough to try a seasonal greeting. “Happy Halloween.”
“Happy Halloween to you too, Jo,” my son-in-law said. “How’s everything in the Queen City?”
“I guess you heard the news about Sam,” I said.
“Yes, I did. I’m sorry. I know you and Zack liked him.”
“Yes we did. Very much. Anyway, is everything okay with you?”
“Well, I’m looking at two tired, happy little girls whose Halloween bags are bulging with candy. So that part of our lives is fine. I was just calling to check on Mieka.”
“On Mieka?”
“Isn’t she there?”
“No. Why would she be here?”
