the “boys next door,” always celebrated with the Fitzgeralds, and the tradition was solidified when Lydia married Badgley ten years before. When Huntley was married to his first wife, she’d been included in the joint celebration, as well. After their children—Amy and Orion—had come along, Darcy had happily crocheted them little caps and booties, never dreaming she’d one day be their stepmother. The year the marriage had ended, Darcy had joined her sisters in consoling Huntley. The year after that, she’d become his wife. She’d loved Huntley and his children with all her heart.
She’d loved the combined family holiday, too—the Christmas Eve feast, the caroling trek to midnight services, the Christmas morning breakfast, the opening of the presents, the gift-stealing game and the silly pickle prize, each moment steeped in tradition, becoming part of the cherished fabric of memory. Now that she was divorced, she understood how friable that fabric was, disintegrating at the slightest touch, like a burned veil. The love she’d started out with had simply gone away.
“Thanksgiving wasn’t the same without you,” said Kitty.
“That’s right. We made a new rule. No more going our separate ways at the holidays, no matter what,” said Lizzie.
“I don’t remember voting on that rule,” Darcy said.
“We made it with you in mind. Part Two of the New Rule is that if you’re uncomfortable with the guest list, you get to speak up.” Lydia eyed the mimosas that came to the table, but settled for orange juice and sparkling water.
“And you’ll actually listen? What a concept. So, what brought this about?” Darcy paused. “Oh, wait. Don’t tell me. Huntley’s kids were horrible.” She pictured Amy and Orion at their worst—obnoxious, making a mess, squabbling with each other, fussing about the food. Back when she was married to Huntley, she had known how to take charge of the kids. They complained about her being bossy, but when she was around, they behaved.
“I think they miss you,” said Mary.
“However, we decided it’s not fair to include Huntley if it means you won’t be there for the holidays.”
Did they have any idea how small that made her feel? How petty and selfish? She pictured what it might be like, with Huntley and his children barred from the traditional celebration. Would Huntley’s parents defect, as well? His brother? And then Lydia? The entire holiday would come apart at the seams, all because Darcy didn’t want to be anywhere near Huntley.
“It won’t work,” she said. “Badgley and Huntley are practically joined at the hip. I can’t imagine Badgley would agree to this.”
“Badgley doesn’t get a vote,” Lydia said simply, folding her arms. “Please, Darcy. This is a really important time for us.”
“What the heck do you mean, really important?”
“We’re...” Lydia’s eyes misted. She slowly sipped her mimosa. Her virgin mimosa, made with sparkling water.
“Oh my gosh,” Darcy said. “You’re pregnant!”
Lydia nodded, her smile soft, aglow with pride and mystery. “Yes. Finally.”
Darcy reached over and hugged her so hard they nearly fell off their lunch counter stools. “That’s fantastic, Lyddie. I’m so excited for you.”
The other sisters squealed and hugged, and Lizzie, always the most emotional of the bunch, teared up.
“You’re all the first to know,” Lydia said, dabbing at her eyes. “Don’t tell Mom and Dad yet. Badgley and I are going to make an announcement on Christmas. That’s why it’s so important to have everyone present.”
Darcy took both her sister’s hands and squeezed them tight. “I couldn’t be happier for you. I’m completely thrilled for you and Badgley. But I want your announcement to be a wonderful moment for the whole family, one you’ll always remember. My being there, having to endure Huntley, would only cast a shadow over your good news.”
“Darcy—”
“I’m going to do everyone a favor and make this simple.”
“No,” said Mary and Kitty simultaneously.
“My friend India invited me to spend the holidays with her and her family, and I’ve accepted.”
“But you did that at Thanksgiving,” Lydia pointed out.
“And we all survived.” Darcy still thought about that magical weekend, far more than she should. In the middle of Manhattan’s freezing rain and winter darkness, she would often catch herself gazing out her office window and conjure up memories of the sunshine warm on her skin, surfing on a private beach, swimming with friendly dolphins, kissing Logan O’Donnell....
“This is different,” said Kitty. “This is
“I’m not skipping out. I’ll just be...elsewhere.”
“This is not happening,” said Lizzie, doodling with a red pen in her dayrunner. “We have to stick together at Christmas. We
“Otherwise the world will come to an end, right?” Darcy touched her sister’s arm. “Look, I don’t want to make trouble. I’m trying to save everyone the tension and awkwardness of me being in the same room as Huntley.”
“Just don’t be tense and awkward around him, and all will be well,” Mary said simply.
“Sure,” Darcy snapped. “I’ll just forget that he still shows up for family holidays as if he deserves to be there.”
“We don’t want him there, either,” said Kitty. “We want
Darcy could imagine this conversation going round and round, never finding a conclusion. She was sorely tempted to tell her sisters about the cheating, but that would open yet another avenue of conflict. They would take sides, they’d gang up on Huntley, they’d create a rift between the families, just at the moment Lydia was going to deliver a new Collins baby. Darcy clenched her jaw, unwilling to be the architect of that.
“My mind is made up,” she told them. “I’m going away for Christmas. I’m going to have a fantastic time.”
“With your friend India? Doesn’t she feel guilty, stealing you away from your family? What kind of friend is she?” Mary asked.
“The best sort. The kind who’s there when I need her, offering what I need. In this case, I need to do something fun and different, like surfing at Thanksgiving.”
“She’s got a point,” Lizzie said. “Surfing sounds fun.”
“Totally fun,” Darcy assured her. “They might not be surfing, though. According to India, the O’Donnells are negotiating where they’ll be spending Christmas, too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Lydia. “Where are they taking you?”
“They’re deciding between sunshine and snow.”
“You mean they have more than one fabulous vacation spot?” Kitty nudged Lydia. “Maybe we should all make friends with the O’Donnells.”
“Maybe you should,” Darcy said. “One faction of the family wants to spend Christmas in the Florida sun. Another wants a white Christmas in the Catskills.”
“What sort of place in the Catskills?”
“India’s brother, Logan, is a partner in a ski resort in Avalon, up in Ulster County.” Darcy knew which location she preferred, but she didn’t get a vote.
Lydia gave a low whistle. “There’s a
“And this brother,” said Lizzie, “does he happen to be single?”
“And does he happen to have red hair and green eyes and a killer smile, not to mention a set of abs like a cheese grater?” asked Mary.
Darcy smacked her. “Hey, you’ve been snooping.”
“I call it research,” Mary stated. “Is it a secret?”
