Annihilate Me: Holiday Edition Read online

  Now, at this point in my life, hearing Streisand’s powerful version of “The Lord’s Prayer,” which rang throughout the house with her impossibly soaring vocals, made me view at least this part of the album in a different light. I was happy now. I was in love with my soul mate. I’d just come through one of the most stressful months of my life. And to hear Streisand sing about the glory of life was something I finally could embrace.

  There is glory in this life. It just took me years to find it.

  Despite the music, I could hear Blackwell and her daughters talking in the kitchen, and not with hostility. For a moment, I think I even heard laughter. Was that Blackwell? I listened more closely, and in fact, it was.

  To our left, in the living room, was the surprise of a tall, gorgeous-looking fir tree resting in a stand next to the sheet of windows that overlooked the ocean. There was no sign of Lisa or Tank, so Alex and I just stood there, unbelieving, listening to the light sounds of conversation coming from the kitchen, and smelling the tree itself, which was intoxicating.

  “What the hell happened?” I quietly asked Alex.

  He shook his head at me while he removed his jacket. “No idea. Tank must have gotten it.”

  “I wonder if Lisa went with him.”

  “We’ll fine out, I guess.”

  “She’ll tell me everything. And listen,” I said in a low voice. “From the kitchen. Laughter. And something else. What’s that sound?”

  “Something clinking against glass?”

  I took off my coat and put it in the closet along with Alex’s. “We should creep upstairs and pull ourselves together. I left here with a face full of makeup. Now, it’s been completely been washed off. The moment they see me, they’ll know.”

  “We’ll get busted. The floors creak.”

  “The music might hide it.”

  “We can hear you two,” Blackwell called from the kitchen. “We saw you drive in. We heard the door shut. There’s no need to keep whispering any longer. Come into the kitchen with Daniella and Alexa and me. We’re cooking.”

  “They’re what?” I said to Alex.

  “Apparently, they’re cooking.”

  “When we left here, we fled from a pending war. What happened?”

  “We can still hear you, Jennifer. Come into the kitchen. We’re anxious to hear where you’ve been…shopping.”

  Alex reached down for my hand, gripped it in his own, and we went down the hallway into the kitchen, where Blackwell, Daniella and Alexa were enjoying a glass of red wine at the large kitchen island, above which hung piercing bright lights.

  “I told you,” Daniella said when she first saw us. “They’ve totes been rolling around at some random motel room. Look at Jennifer’s hair—she’s so been sexed up.” She lifted her glass of wine to us. “And good for you two!”

  “I—”

  “There’s no need to say anything, Jennifer,” Blackwell said. “We all had a feeling that your shopping text to Lisa was a ruse. So, by the looks of you two, the gig is up. Still, at the very least, it appears that you got your cardio in today, which naturally I support. I can feel the energy coming off you in waves.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Not a word. It’s not an issue. Love is in the air. We all need our private time, even if we have only just arrived from Manhattan this afternoon and have been together for a few short hours…”

  “It’s just that—”

  “I don’t blame you for getting out while you could,” Daniella said. “We were being a couple of bitches. I’m sorry about that. But thanks to Alexa—and I mean that, Alexa—it’s all out in the open now. Everyone knows I’ve been dumped by yet another boyfriend. And so be it. The three of us talked about it, we worked through it, my mother and sister were fabulous, and I have to agree with them. Screw him. Ever since we got through that little maelstrom of mine, we’ve been having fun. And I’m sorry if we made things so tense earlier. In fact, that was mostly on me. I was awful in New York and also when we got here. I apologize for that. I’ve also apologized to Tank and Lisa. I know you told me I should leave it alone, Jennifer, but I owed them that.”

  “That was very kind of you, Daniella,” I said.

  “I know how I can come off,” she said. “I get it.” She waved her hand in the air. “But enough of that.” She nodded at Alex. “You’ve got some killer bottles of wine in this joint, Alex. There’s, like, a whole wine cellar downstairs. Alexa and I found it and I think with this bottle, we got the good stuff.”

  “I told them about the cellar,” Blackwell said. “I hope you don’t mind, Alex.”

  “Not at all. As far as I’m concerned, those bottles still belong to my parents. I think there are hundreds down there. Indulge.”

  “You’re the best, Alex,” Alexa said. “Did you know that wine is a sustainable resource?”

  “I didn’t, but that’s good to know. And I’m glad to hear that things are evening out.”

  “They have,” Blackwell said. “But all of that’s history. My girls and I have been busy tonight. Come and see what we made. Look—our first apple pie. We made it together by following that fat contessa’s recipe. And I have to say that she’s good—it was fairly easy to make, especially her pie dough. I would have failed without her advice. Who knew that ice-cold butter is the key to a flaky crust? Who knew that I’d put butter into anything? Here. Come look. It’s divoon.”

  Alex and I walked over to the island and I have to say that the pie looked and smelled delicious. The crust was golden brown and looked perfect—and I knew for a fact that pie crust isn’t easy to make. “It looks fantastic,” I said.

  “Don’t sound so surprised, Jennifer.”

  “I didn’t mean to. It just does.”

  “Thank you. But now that I have my baking elves with me, at least I can promise you all that Christmas dessert will be fine. The dinner is still on me, so we’ll see how that goes. But I’ve done my homework, and I’m confident that I’ll come through.”

  “Mom, we took it back. You don’t have to do it all by yourself,” Daniella said. “We want to help.”

  “And I appreciate that. I also appreciate the help I’ve received tonight. But I’ve never cooked you girls a proper holiday meal. So, I’m going to do it before I go to my grave so neither of you will put on my headstone, ‘She never made us Christmas dinner.’ That I can’t have.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Daniella said. “Just let us help. Tonight was fun.”

  “I’ll call on you should I need you. But I’ve got this, young lady.”

  “We also made the fat contessa’s cheesecake,” Alexa said to us. “It’s in a water bath in the oven. Twenty more minutes to go.”

  I locked eyes with Blackwell, who just lifted her own glass of wine to me. I’d never seen her like this. I’d never seen her so relaxed and happy. She wasn’t shooting barbs at anyone. She looked content and loved, as though she’d thoroughly bonded with her daughters. I winked at her, and she winked back at me. I mouthed the words “I love you” to her, and she just raised her eyebrows at me and sipped her wine.

  But her eyes sparkled.

  “Does anyone know where Lisa and Tank are?” I asked.

  “Earlier, they went out and got the tree,” Alexa said. “I hate that we had to kill it, but it’s better than an artificial tree, which is filled with toxins. So, I’m good with it. Sort of.”

  “Alexa,” Daniella said.

  “Right. Anyway, they’re downstairs. When they got Jennifer’s text, they went searching everywhere on the grounds for the perfect tree, and they found it. Tank had to lug it back. Lisa helped, but come on. She’s tiny, and look at that tree. It was all on Tank. When they got it in its stand, Lisa said she was going to give him a back rub. That was about thirty minutes ago, so they’re either in his room or her room.”

  And hopefully having a wonderful time, I thought.

  “There’s nothing like nature,” Alexa said. “Even when you cut down one of its trees, end its life, a
nd stop its sap from running.”

  “Alexa,” Daniella said.

  “I know, I know. I do love the tree. I mean that.”

  “Check the cheese cake.”

  “I’m on it.”

  In the background, I heard Streisand launch into my favorite song on her first Christmas album—her haunting version of Gounod’s “Ave Maria.” I looked at Blackwell. “Did you choose the music?”

  “I did. It’s a classic. I used to play it for the girls when they were children. It’s something we’ve always listened to.”

  “I remember listening to it as a child. It’s my favorite. Thank you.”

  And with that, Blackwell got up from her seat at the kitchen island. She came over to me and, to my surprise, she hugged me. In my ear, she said, “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I said.

  “Why don’t we go and look at the tree.”

  We left the kitchen and moved into the living room.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “I was wrong about coming here. None of this would have happened in New York. They would have been distracted by their friends. They would have wanted to be anywhere but with me. You were right. I’m grateful that we’re here. I can’t tell you what tonight has meant to me. Cooking with my girls? Talking openly with them about the divorce, boys, life? That’s never happened between us. I think they’re at an age where we can become friends. So, thank you, my dear. You’ll always be a treasure to me.”

  “How much wine have you had?”

  “Enough to say that you’ll always be a treasure to me.”

  She pulled away from me, and I could see in her eyes that she was stone sober. I kissed her on the cheek and we returned to the kitchen, where she kissed Alex on his cheek.

  “Now,” she said. “Go on you two. The Blackwell women have to make sure that this cheesecake comes out well. Then we need to make a raspberry sauce for it. Then we’ll be done for the night. Tomorrow, we might make another pie.” She looked over her shoulder. “What do you think, girls?”

  “I’d love a chocolate cream pie,” Daniella said.

  “Me too,” Alexa said. “And hopefully we’ll use whipping cream free of hormones and antibiotics.”

  “Seriously?” Daniella said.

  “It’s important that we do.”

  “Here,” Daniella said, reaching for the bottle of wine. “Let me refill your glass. No really. Let me fill it right up to the top, then we’ll go in search of a new bottle. That’s right. Take a good, long sip.”

  “You’re trying to get me drunk.”

  “Not at all. You’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  “So, we’ll make the pie in the morning,” Blackwell said. “And then we’ll relax. Maybe we’ll read a book, walk along the ocean, or listen to music. Maybe we’ll watch a movie. Or just have a conversation. Soon, it will be Christmas Eve. I have all sorts of cheeses and crackers and grapes to eat tomorrow night. And other things, like cherry tomatoes and hummus. We have plenty spirits, and God knows we have enough wine to last us for the next hundred years. So, we’ll make a feast of it. And then on Christmas Day, I’ll make us a suitable dinner that has nothing to do with roughage or ice. Stop looking so worried, Jennifer. I’ve got this. Tonight has given me confidence. That fat contessa has taught me plenty. I know the tricks. And I’ve got my bird.”

  “Was it cage-free?” Alexa asked.

  “Drink up,” Daniella said.

  “I have no idea,” Blackwell said. “But I do know this—when I cook it, that bird won’t be dry.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Later that night, when Blackwell and the girls were in bed, Alex and I built a fire and were seated in the living room on one of the sofas facing the tree and the moonlit ocean beyond when Lisa and Tank came into the room holding hands. We hadn’t seen them all night.

  “Hi, you two,” I said brightly. Too brightly. Impossibly brightly. I needed to check myself. “Thank you for getting the tree. It’s gorgeous.”

  “Tank did all the work,” Lisa said. “I think we must have been a good mile away. He hauled it back here with one arm. I was of no use.”

  “I didn’t do all the work,” Tank said. He was wearing Levi 501s and a flannel shirt that barely contained his chest, his broad back, and his muscular arms. I’d never seen him like this before. He looked bigger than ever to me. He turned to us. “Lisa picked out the tree, not me. And she found the perfect one, don’t you think? It was a team effort.”

  I smiled at them while inside, I barely could contain myself. Something’s different. Something’s different. Something’s different.

  “You did a great job,” Alex said.

  They sat on the sofa to our left, Lisa moved close to Tank, and he put his arm around her shoulder. I just stared at her, she narrowed her eyes at me, and then I caught myself and glanced at Tank, who was looking at me with the hint of a smile on his lips.

  “How was your shopping trip?” Lisa asked.

  “Oh, you know Ellsworth,” I said. “Lots of little shops. Lots of cute little things.”

  “Lots of small little motels.”

  “Yes, there seem to be more than ever. Would anyone like a martini?”

  “I would,” Alex said.

  “Same here,” Lisa said.

  “Tank?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a Guinness, would you?”

  “We do,” Alex said. “I made sure of it, Tank. There’s plenty in the fridge.”

  “I’ll have that, if you don’t mind.”

  “Absolutely. Lisa, would you like to help me?”

  “I’m actually really comfortable right—”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Let’s make drinks.”

  When we were in the kitchen together, I pulled out three martini glasses from the freezer, grabbed the shaker from a cupboard, and also retrieved a glass for Tank. Lisa hummed while she got Tank’s beer from the fridge.

  “Bottle opener?” she said.

  I pointed to a drawer. “There.”

  “Tank loves Guinness.”

  “You don’t say.” While I took ice out of the freezer, which rattled loudly, I also said, “What else is Tank loving these days?”

  “Maybe the hour-long back rub I gave him? You know, when he was face down on my bed with his shirt off and I was straddling his back?”

  “You better come clean with me now.”

  She came next to me. “But they’ll hear.”

  “Not when I start making these martinis. When I start shaking, you spill. There’s been a shift between you two. I want details.”

  “Then start shaking.”

  “The vodka’s in the freezer. The vermouth is in the fridge. Would you hand each to me?”

  She did, I poured, and started shaking while she stood as close as she could to me.

  “Major breakthrough,” she said.

  “Spill it.”

  “When we were out looking for a tree? It took a couple of hours to find the right one. But about an hour into it, when we were walking through the woods side by side, he manhandled me.”

  “He what?”

  “He pinned me against a tree, he said he couldn’t stand it anymore, and then he kissed me like he’s never kissed me before. It was beyond hot. I think I even grabbed his ass. In fact, I know I did. Have you seen his ass in those jeans of his tonight? I had a big handful of that.”

  I giggled while I continued to shake our drinks as loudly as I could so no one could hear us. As smooth as silk and as cold as January. Coming right up! “What got into him?”

  “He told me that he was sorry for holding back. He said that coming here was good for both of us. He said that after everything you and Alex went through, he felt that he finally could relax and focus on what mattered—our relationship.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s finally happening.”

  “You don’t even know the half of it.”

  I kept shaki
ng. “What happened during the back rub? Because I swear to God I know that something happened. I can smell it.”

  “Let’s just say that thirty minutes of it was about me having my hands all over his back and shoulders, which pretty much sent me over the edge because I was sitting on that hard ass of his. Then, without any warning, he turned around and everything after that became a total make-out session.”

  “Stop it.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Did you have sex?”

  “No! But I think we might.”

  “Holy shit. When?”

  “I don’t know. I hope tonight.”

  “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Praise the baby Jesus!”

  “I have to pour now or they’ll know that we’re talking.”

  “They already know that we’re talking. They’re not stupid.”

  “Well, they don’t need to actually hear what’s being said. Pour Tank’s beer while I pour out these first two martinis. Then I need to make another one for you. Then we’ll talk again. That’s the plan. Go.”

  We went through the motions. She poured Tank’s beer while I poured out two perfectly chilled martinis. I swung around to the freezer, got more ice, poured more vodka and vermouth into the shaker, and started rigorously thrashing a fresh cocktail.

  “How are you going to get him in bed tonight?”

  “The way he’s acting, I don’t think I’m going to have to do much.”

  “The angels are singing—but you still need a plan.”

  “I seriously think I just need to get in some skimpy red lingerie and give him a kiss goodnight. Then I’ll just fall back spread-eagle on his or my bed.”

  “So subtle.”

  “Fuck subtle. Where did you and Alex go today?”

  “We totally went to a no-tell motel and sexed it up for hours.”

  “I love it. Was it good.”

  “At this point in our relationship, I thought that I had a fairly good idea of how many ways my body could be maneuvered, but today, I learned just how many other ways it could be maneuvered.”