“I thought I was here to babysit Sofia, not you and Frankie,” Kate said as she entered. “What’s wrong?”
“This tie. My fat fuckin’ fingers forgot how to make a half-Windsor. Can you do it?”
Kate smirked as she came to stand between me and the mirror. Yeah, yeah, yeah. My sister just loved when I had to admit she knew more about men’s fashion than I did. But considering she probably tied about a hundred of these a week onto her mannequins, she did have more practice. And I wasn’t about to head uptown looking like a slob.
“There, all done,” she said. “Smart. I like that you went with the pinstripes. They’re very festive.”
I pulled on the jacket that with its thread-thin white stripes over midnight blue matched the pants and vest of the three-piece suit. “You don’t think I look like a gangster?”
“Oh, you definitely look like a gangster. But in the best possible way.” Frankie pulled slightly at the red silk pocket square tucked into my jacket, then stood back to look me over. “The red makes it work with the holidays. And since you actually listened to me and skipped the wingtips, I’d say you walk the line perfectly.”
“How about now?”
I grabbed my favorite fedora off the bureau, but before I could put it on, Kate plucked it away.
“Hey!” I protested. “Give me that.”
“Mattie, I know you love Nonno’s hat, but if you put that on, you’re going to look like Al Capone. Trust me on this. Coco Chanel always said you should take off the last thing you put on. I’m just doing it for you.”
I grunted, but didn’t argue. Nina liked Chanel. No, it didn’t have anything to do with that. Or maybe it did.
“I need help too.”
We both turned to find Frankie, my other sister, striding into the room followed by her daughter, Sofia. “Kate, can you zip me up?”
“When did my room become everyone’s damn dressing room?” I sputtered, even as I sat on the bed to allow Sofia to climb onto my lap. “Hey, watch the collar, Sof. I don’t need your paw prints on my shirt, all right?”
Sofia made a face at me and shook her black curls from side to side. But she did keep her hands to herself.
“Whose party is this again that I’m babysitting for?” Kate said, doing as Frankie asked.
“You don’t need to babysit,” Frankie said as she took my place in front of the mirror. “I’m thinking maybe you should go with Matthew, Katie, because I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” I said for what had to be the fourth time that evening. As a single mom and third-grade teacher with next to no free time, Frankie didn’t exactly get out much. “You deserve a night out, Frankie, and since you badgered me into taking one, you’re coming.” I looked down at Sofia. “Don’t you think your ma needs a night away from you?”
Sofia grinned, displaying the gap between her teeth. “Why would she need that?”
I ruffled her hair and gently picked her up and placed her on the bedspread. “Eh, you’d chain her to the stove if you could, you little gremlin.”
“I’m not a gremlin! It’s the boys that’s gremlins!” she protested, referring to her cousins uptown. “What’s a gremlin, anyway?”
“It’s a monster that never lets its mommy do anything fun,” I told her.
At that, Sofia’s smile dropped, and her eyes began to water. “Mommy?” She turned to Frankie, who was trying to keep still while Kate played with her hair and dress. “Mommy, am I a gremlin? Am I no fun?”
“Mattie!”
Frankie turned around, and a moment later, I was dodging her purse.
“Okay, okay!” I laughed. “You’re not a gremlin, Sof. Maybe just a baby troll.”
“Oh!” She perked up. “I can be a troll!” She slithered off the bed and scampered out of the room singing some terrible song at the top of her lungs.
Frankie caught my mystified expression and giggled. “It’s from a movie,” she clarified. “The trolls are cute.”
“Then I rest my case,” I said with a shrug. “And if you know more about a kids’ movie than going out with people your own age, you definitely need to get out more, Fran.”
“You both do,” Kate clarified as she finished the final touches on Frankie’s dress. “Whose party is this anyway?”
“Some friends of mine uptown,” I replied, glad they weren’t looking at me when I answered. I didn’t want to say who else might be there. Or the fact that she was going to be surrounded by friends and family that made me want to bring my own security.
That was me. Big, bad Matthew Zola bringing his little sister to a party as a bodyguard.
“Rich friends,” Frankie said pointedly. “They own a house on the Upper West Side. They’re going to think I’m a hobo.” She eyed herself nervously in the mirror again and sighed. “At least Derek never expected me to wear anything other than jeans and a t-shirt.”
I didn’t reply, feeling a bit uncomfortable. I had encouraged Frankie to go out with my friend and former investigative partner last spring. It hadn’t lasted long, but I had never pried into what happened. I didn’t want to get in between two good people.
“That’s because Derek’s idea of a good date was Chinese takeout and watching the Mets game on the couch,” said Kate, who didn’t have any such compunction.
Frankie turned. “He wasn’t that bad.”
“He was nice,” Kate admitted. “But he wasn’t for you. You said so yourself. There was no…zing. No za-za-zoo.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked. “It sounds like one of those spells Sofia makes up when she’s pretending to be my fairy godmother.”
“It’s the thing,” Kate clarified, and to my surprise, Frankie nodded in agreement.
“Electricity,” she chimed in. “That spark. You know, Mattie. Like how you and blondie couldn’t stop setting off fireworks all over the city this year.”
“Yeah, well,” I said. “Look how that ended.”
Both of my sisters quieted down, sensing the jokes were over.
“Here we go
