A Holland and a Fighter Read online

  “We have to get out of here,” I say, only after they’ve removed me from the situation when I finally have my wits about me. Will was able to escape with Shea, and we’re actually following them. I realize I’m only taking shallow breaths as I try to remove my arms from their tight grasps. I feel like everything is closing in around me.

  “Fuck, Jon’s gonna kill me,” I can hear Will say. “Look, the shop’s right here. We can just duck in.” Duck is one way to put it. I get pushed, or at least nudged in an aggressive manner by the guards, who are now standing outside of the store and keeping other people from entering.

  “Good afternoon,” Shea says politely to the man behind the counter.

  “You okay?” Will asks, his hands on my shoulders as he guides me to a chair.

  “Sitting would be good,” I tell him. “I just didn’t expect any of that. I’m fine.” I force a smile, but he knows it’s less than sincere.

  “I’m sorry. I just got caught up in a moment. You know me.” He squats down in front of me.

  “I know. It’s good, Will. Really.” I nod my head, appreciating his concern. “Just do your shopping.”

  “Liv, they have some tea, if you’d like it,” Shea says.

  “Chamomile, dear,” the older woman with a British accent says.

  “Oh, please, if it’s not too much trouble. That’d be great.”

  “Happily. It’s steeping in the back, just a moment.”

  Will stands up, keeping his hand on my shoulder as he turns around to face the man, who’s now glaring at the front door.

  “So, are those big guys gonna block my entrance indefinitely, or…?”

  “Listen, sorry,” Will starts, approaching him. “We’ll make it worth your while, I promise. We just need some time to regroup. I’ve been emailing you about some bookends. I bought them last weekend.”

  “Oh, Auggie,” the woman says as she comes out with the tea, “leave the kids alone. They need to escape for a minute. Don’t you realize you have stars in your midst? You have a famous painter, a top chef and… what are you today?” she asks Will.

  We’re all smiling, and my brother-in-law laughs at her question. “Just an astrophysicist.”

  “An astrophysicist! He’s very important!” After she hands me the tea in a dainty cup on what appears to be a very old saucer, she looks back at the man who, by the familiarity of her tone, I now assume is her husband. With her hands on her hips, she whispers loudly, as if it’s a secret, “Some days he’s a rock star! These are famous people! The Hollands? And Scotts? Don’t you ever read Page Six?”

  “If it’s not on page one, no, dear, I don’t,” he says, grumpy.

  “Wait,” I interrupt, “did you say his name is Auggie?” I ask the woman, but he answers.

  “It’s August, but most people call me Auggie.”

  I relax, and it has nothing to do with the tea. I feel like this is a sign. “That’s so strange. My son’s middle name will be Augustus.” With my free hand, I touch my belly. “I’ve been telling my husband that we should call him Auggie, but Jon’s afraid he’ll be teased.”

  “Oh, he’ll be teased, but it builds character. That’s what it did for me.”

  “That’s what I keep telling him,” I say, then my voice gets softer, “but he just wants to call him Jonny.”

  “That’s so sweet!” the woman’s voice erupts, startling us all. “He’s going to be a second?”

  “Yes,” I say, smiling, watching Will as he finds the carved bookends he’d told us about. “But August… I mean, what a great name!” I begin walking over to Will but look at Shea. “If he’s just born a couple days early–in August–maybe we can call him that!”

  Will turns around to look at me curiously. “He doesn’t have to be born early. His middle name will be Augustus. That gives you the right to shorten it however you like, right?”

  I set down the tea next to one of the bookends and stroke the wood that’s obviously been softened by age. “Yeah!” I say, nodding my head. “I think August is great! And I think Jon will one-hundred percent agree!”

  “Whale’s nice, huh?” Will asks, getting in a question.

  “It’s perfect. I don’t know how you found it, but Trey’s going to love it.”

  Chapter 9

  After taking the last curler out of my hair, I put on a fresh coat of bright red lipstick and smile in the mirror. One on each side of me, my girls look up and grin back at me.

  “Mama, you look so pretty,” Edie says.

  “Thank you, sweetie. Can you go get my shoes? They’re the blue ones I set by the door.”

  Willow beats her to the closet and brings them to me. I sit down on the vanity stool, handing both of them a shoe. “Now. Can each of you put one on? Because there’s no way I can bend over and tie the bows in the back.”

  “Oh, they’re so beautiful, Mama! Can I borrow these when they fit?” my oldest asks, sliding her toes into my shoe. “They’re Louboutin’s, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, and yes,” I say, shaking my head at her knowledge of shoes.

  “They’re too girly for me,” Willow says, confused about the scarf accessory and fussing with the bow. “Can I just knot it?” Her frustration is quick and evident.

  “No,” I say. “Let Edie do it.”

  “I’ll make them perfect,” my oldest says, sitting with her legs crossed on the floor.

  “Can I go downstairs with everyone?”

  “Go ahead, Wils. Thanks for hanging out with me while I get ready.” She takes off in a sprint.

  “So, it looks like it crosses in the back, and then in the front, and then ties in the back. Is that right?”

  “Exactly, and you want to make sure the scarf doesn’t twist when you wrap it around. Does that make sense?” I ask.

  “I’m not stupid, Mama. Like this?”

  I lean to my side to get a good look at my left foot. “Perfect.” I stand up to make sure it’s not too tight. “Do the same on the other side, and these shoes are yours as soon as they fit… but you won’t want them, because they’ll be five years out of fashion by then.”

  “I’ll bring them back into fashion. They’re too pretty… you have such good taste.”

  I laugh at her compliment. “Thank you.” I don’t bother telling her that many designers contact me and ask me to wear their clothes and accessories, and more often than not, the clothes find me, and not the other way around. They’ll do the same for her when she’s older, I’m sure… and she’ll love it.

  “You look like a pregnant princess going to a cocktail party,” she tells me when she stands up to review my overall look.

  “The headband’s too much, huh?”

  “I like it! Leave it. It’s a special occasion and you told everyone to be fancy, right?”

  “I did. Daddy’s in a nice suit, too. And I know what Shea and Coley are wearing. They’re both wearing their really nice jewelry, so… I don’t feel so weird.”

  “So, where are you really going?” she asks, nudging me and obviously implying that I’ve been lying.

  “I told you!” I put my hand on her back and guide her out of our bathroom, and then our bedroom. “We just rented the party room downstairs. A catered affair. A very nice party for your uncle. He didn’t want anything public, so… we’re complying with that.”

  The doorbell plays its music, and I check the watch Jon gave me for our last anniversary. It’s so bejeweled and dainty I can hardly make out the time.

  “You know what? I bet that’s Granddaddy and Memi. Go grab your pillow and overnight bag. I’ll get Willow’s.” We split off into the rooms as I hear my mom and dad downstairs saying hello to Coley’s brothers and one of their girlfriends who are going to stay in our guest rooms tonight.

  Edie beats me downstairs and is sitting next to my dad on the couch. Jon catcalls me from the kitchen when he sees me.

  “You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” Mom says, giving me a hug.

  “I feel so… impregnated,” I
respond.

  “Well, you are. You can’t do anything about that, but the dress looks amazing on you.”

  “Listen to Emi!” Jon yells.

  “You look great,” Joanna, Nyall’s girlfriend, says. Having only met her once before, there’s an awkwardness about her greeting as she sort-of half-waves at me. I hold out my arms, inviting her in for an embrace.

  “Thank you! So do you!” I tell her.

  “Is this nice enough?” she asks, looking down at her black ankle-length gown.

  “Oh, it’s perfect.”

  “It needs a necklace,” Edie says, and just as a look of insecurity crosses Joanna’s face, she continues, “but we have one! Mama! She can borrow those pearls I got for you!”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” our guest stutters.

  “No, Edie’s right. You look wonderful, but I do have a nice strand of pearls that would look great with that.”

  “I’d be afraid something would happen to them.”

  I lean back into her and whisper. “Edie got them for me. They’re costume. It’s okay.”

  “Oh. Well, if you’re sure, then, yeah!”

  “I’ll get them!”

  “Walk, bunny!” Jon calls after her as she races up the stairs.

  “Nyall, how are you?” I ask Coley’s oldest brother, giving him big hug.

  “I’m well.”

  “That’s good to hear.” And it is. Nyall had been institutionalized for years for a violent mental condition that he had a hard time controlling. With the right therapy and medications, he was finally able to move out of the hospital–first into his mother’s home in DC with in-home help, and finally into his own apartment nearby, after having a successful year with no incidents. He’s been dating Joanna for over a year now. She actually has a degree in psychology but works in marketing. I think her education has really helped in their relationship, though; in turn, it’s rekindled her interest in psychology. She’s considering going back to get her PhD.

  “And Joel,” I say and sign at the same time. He’s great at reading lips and can speak well on his own, but the entire family has learned to sign to support him. The girls particularly love seeing him so they can show him new vocabulary they’ve learned in weekly classes we send them to. “How is work?”

  “Well, the only time I get to dress like this is if I’m serving food,” he says with a sour expression. “I’ve got to find a way to stay in Manhattan. I’ve got to weasel my way into some restaurant. Who do I have to kill at Shea’s place to make this happen?”

  We all laugh. It’d been a running joke among the family. Shea’s chefs had become close friends of hers; they were incredibly competent and trusted and would do just about anything for their boss. Shea had offered him a job as a prep cook, but they’d both acknowledged that he was too talented for that. It was just the only job she had available.

  “Talk to her tonight and let her know you’re serious about coming back to New York,” Jon tells him. “I’m sure she’ll start putting out some feelers.”

  “I just need someone to give me a chance. I just need a little time to prove myself,” he says. “They just find out I’m deaf and close the damn door. In any other industry, it’s discrimination. In the food industry, it’s…”

  “Accepted discrimination,” Dad says with a tone of disgust in his voice. “It makes me want to start a restaurant to make a point.”

  “Jacks, you know nothing about that industry,” my mother says. “You don’t open restaurants on principle. Don’t get those crazy ideas.” She walks over to Coley’s brother. “Joel, we’ll help you in any other way… but I have to stop him from opening a restaurant.”

  Joel laughs. “Understood.”

  Once Joanna gets her necklace, Dad rounds up the girls and puts their things on the cart he’d been mindful enough to bring with him from the concierge. My dad’s always three steps ahead of everyone, though, so I’m not surprised.

  “Tell Jackson we said hello,” he tells me. “Family dinner’s still on for tomorrow night, right?”

  “Of course. We have to take the mini-monsters back at some time,” I say, tugging Willow’s pigtails. “Jon and I will be there at five to give you and Mom a break from the girls–and cook–and we’ll tell Trey and Coles to be there at seven. Right?”

  “Right.” He kisses me on the cheek.

  I hug both of the girls as they pat my belly and say goodbye to me and Froggie. Mom and I embrace once more before Jon walks them out.

  “Everyone okay?” I ask. “Did Jon get you all drinks?”

  “Worst host ever,” Nyall says, setting down his full beverage. “I asked for crushed ice and he gives me this?” he jokes.

  “He’s still learning… with the ice dispenser. I’ll dock his pay,” I assure him.

  “Thank you. No, I think we’re all good.”

  Joel and Joanna nod, both settling into the living room furniture.

  “I invited a buddy of mine,” Joel tells me. “He’s just going to meet us downstairs. Is that okay? Trey’s hung out with him a few times.”

  “Yeah, we should have plenty of food and drinks. Wait,” I say, “any…” I stall, trying to think of the right ASL signs. “Dietary restrictions?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. You have that vegetarian friend, don’t you?”

  “Not him.”

  “Cool.”

  “Hey! Did you see the lights in the bedroom and hallway?” I ask him.

  “Yeah!” he grins. “Jon showed me when he brought me to the guest room, and I saw it in action when Jack and Emi showed up. You guys didn’t have to do that.”

  “It was no trouble. We wanted you to be alerted if anyone came to the door, or if there was an emergency. They’ll flash if an alarm goes off, too.”

  “You guys are the best.”

  “Well, I know,” I tease him, leading him back into the living area, where Jon has returned.

  “Did you pad Nyall’s room?” Joel asks.

  Because we don’t see Nyall as often, I don’t know if this is something they joke about as brothers. I look at Jon, walking toward him on the other side, and pretend I didn’t hear the question.

  “I brought the portable cushions,” Joanna says, not missing a beat. “And the straight jacket.”

  “Jo, they don’t need to hear about what we do in bed,” Nyall whispers. She picks up a pillow and whacks him with it, and all of the guys start laughing. I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Jon finds the pulse points at the base of my neck with his thumbs and digs in, hard. “Relax,” he says softly in my ear, pushing the curls out of the way. I lean my head back into his hands and let him rub away the tension that had been building up all day as we prepared for my brother’s birthday party. “Ready to go downstairs? My brothers are there. Shea’s apparently rearranging things with the caterer.”

  “She’s not supposed to lift a finger,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Then let’s go stop her.” He presses his lips against my temple for a second and puts his arms around my swollen torso. “I love you, baby.” His thumbs now rub up and down my belly, exciting his son. “And you, baby.”

  Downstairs, Will, Max and Callen are already playing pool while Shea rearranges place settings at the table. Jon and I both approach her. He takes the plate she was holding while I drag her away.

  “Shea. Friend. Best friend. Soulfriend.” She laughs. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s like they let Max set the table here. Just look at it! Everything’s out of place!”

  “Okay, okay,” I say. “If that’s the case, then we tell the people I hired to fix it. I’m not paying your salary tonight. And oh my god, where did you get those earrings?!”

  Large, pink, dangling diamonds catch the light from the chandeliers.

  “Will’s royalty check came in. You know he always does something crazy like this when he has hits.”

  “Good lord! Are those heavy?”

  “A little! B
ut worth it! I think I’ll be too afraid to wear them out and about, though. I’d like to keep my ears in one piece,” she admits. “But Liv. Stop distracting me. The place settings?”

  “Look, Jon’s already talking to them.” I angle her in his direction. “And this doesn’t have to be perfect anyway, Shea. It’s for Trey, and he’s forgiving of those types of things. He’s forgiving of everything, in fact,” I say with a laugh.

  “I know. But when we throw a party, it should be perfect. It’s how my mother raised me. It has nothing to do with Hollands or Scotts or anything like that.”

  “Okay. Well, I don’t want you to worry about it anymore. They’re fixing it now. You should go meet Joanna and say hi to Nyall. Plus, I know Joel wants a minute or two with you.”

  “All right. I’m stepping away and letting go,” she says, releasing a sigh.

  Just after Joel’s friend, Booker, shows up, Coley leads Trey into the parlor, and we all break out in a very lively version of “Happy Birthday.” The red on my brother’s face must match my lipstick, the poor thing. He looks around, delighting in the custom-order sushi setup and the full-service bar before Jon and Max take him to the outdoor area and show him the three grills available to cook steaks, too.

  “Heaven,” my little brother sings Sinatra poorly, “I’m in Heaven.”

  “And we have pool and darts and trivia… and I was going to mention karaoke, but I don’t want you to sing,” I tease him.

  “Coley is amazing at karaoke,” he says. “Prettiest voice ever.”

  “We’ll let her have a shot then.”

  “How are you feeling?” he asks, giving me a hug. “I hope you didn’t have to go to any trouble putting all of this together.”

  “It was no trouble at all. Just had to make some calls and decisions. And I’d do anything for my baby brother’s 25th birthday. You know that… it’s not quite like the party for your 21st, but you didn’t want all that fuss.”

  “No, I didn’t. That was insane… but awesome. I got to surprise the hell out of Coley with a proposal, and that was worth every bit of all the extra attention I didn’t really want.”

  “And now, you get to marry her in just a few months!” His smile is out of control. “You are too cute.”