Page 59 of Valentine Nook
“What are we drinking?”
“We have beer.”
Clementine pulls a face. “Hard pass. Hol, how about a glass of champagne, as it’s Friday?”
Holiday puts down the large basket she’s carrying, and as she bends, I notice a small sparkly American flag fastening some of her hair back. “That sounds good to me.”
I’m too busy trying not to stare at her to be quick enough toopen the bottle. Hendricks gets there first, pours out two glasses, and hands them over.
“What a perfect way to start a weekend,” Clementine says, lifting her glass. “Cheers. And so lovely Holiday could join us, especially on America’s birthday.”
A warm glow spreads over Holiday’s cheeks. “Why, thank you. I accept on behalf of all Americans.”
“What would you normally do to celebrate today?”
She brings the glass to her lips. “Usually watch my brother play baseball, barbecue, hang out with family. When we were growing up, we watched a big fireworks display. It’s not the Fourth without fireworks.”
I don’t look at Alex or Hendricks. I don’t need to. I can feel their eyes on me, identical smirks curving their lips.
Okay so? It’s not a big deal that I realized this week’s family supper would fall on July fourth and that Holiday would be coming, and subsequently asked James to put together a display that would make her feel like she wasn’t missing out on celebrations.
Anyone would have done it if they’d thought of it first.
“It certainly isn’t the Fourth without fireworks,” Alex repeats.
I ignore the mocking expression on his face. I have a feeling I’ll be ignoring it a lot this evening.
Clementine slowly spins a full three sixty, waving to Max on his fire engine. “Where are Mum and Miles?”
“Mum’s just returned from Wimbledon, so she’s changing. Miles . . . who knows?” I reply.
On cue, our mother walks through the open patio doorway at the top of the steps. She sees Max first and waves, then she spots us.
“Oh, why didn’t you tell me our guest had arrived?” Her eyes skate over Alex, Hendricks, and me with a frown before they land on Holiday, for whom her expression transformsinto a broad smile. “Holiday, my dear, welcome to Burlington.”
“That’s really very kind.” Holiday puts down her glass and takes my mum’s hand, only to be pulled into a hug.
Hendricks’s brows shoot up as Alex and I watch on in astonishment.
Easing out of her grip, Holiday picks up the basket, peeling back the gingham covering.
“I brought you homemade apple pie. Apples from the cottage, and I promise they were made under supervision.” She laughs, and my mother laughs along with her. “Thank you for the lessons Pierre is giving. And also, a little thank-you gift for tonight.” Holiday hands her a familiar orange store bag with its horse and carriage logo. “I noticed you wearing one the other day.”
There’s a look of genuine shock on my mother’s face. An expression rarely seen on a woman who’s usually ten steps ahead of everyone else. It makes her so impossible to argue with because she already has answers for every question you’ve thought of.
“Hermes,” Alex mutters next to me, as my mother’s profuse levels of thanks increase as she opens the box and ties the scarf around her neck. “I’d say that’s already earned her a hundred points more than Caroline ever had. She was at least negative five million by the time the wedding got canceled.”
I don’t argue. Of all the people who didn’t like Caroline, my mother didn’t like her the most.
The final nail in Caroline’s coffin was when she rejected my grandmother’s engagement ring, a seven-carat antique-cut diamond that once belonged to Anne Boleyn and had been in our family for generations. I’d proposed with it, only for her to ask if she could have one from Graff’s instead.
“Now, where’s Miles?” asks my mother.
“Running late as usual.”
“Then we shall start without himagain.” She tuts, turning around to where Max is still playing with his fire engine, having been joined by Hamish, Dolly, and Maud. “Max, come and eat.”
The long table set out on the patio has candles burning down its length. It’s where we’ll always be when the weather allows.
