William's tiny shoulders lifted. “I guess so. But I can see Oprah's point about the makeup.”
My moms laughed. “Well, she is one smart cookie.”
Judith took another sip of wine. “I propose a toast, then. To makeup and joy, however we find it,” she said.
“I'll toast to the joy part,” my father said.
Rachel reluctantly joined in. We toasted and I drank the wine, relishing the plum aftertaste, remembering that da Vinci had picked out the bottle at the vineyard, saying we should drink it on a special occasion. I had so much to be thankful for, including the awakening brought on by his arrival into my classroom and my life.
My father stood to cut the turkey. “Let's eat this bird before he catches a cold.”
I kissed my sons on the cheek. After we had begun eating, the clank of silverware and china, a familiar symphony of family togetherness, was when the doorbell rang again. I tried not to think about the ramifications of my son's confession. What did it matter now? If da Vinci had been nudged along by tiny cupids, he hadn't gone kicking and screaming. He was a willing partner. Did I mind that he may have said a few things or done a few things in the name of keeping me on the hook a while longer? It wasn't as if he used me, exactly. In fact, I had used him just as much. We had leaned on each other, propped each other up, fledglings now ready to fly on our own.
The doorbell rang again, and I excused myself to answer it. Cortland stood on the porch with a pumpkin pie in his hands. I stepped outside and shut the door behind me.
“It's my mom's. It's not homemade, but don't tell your mother. She's got a rep to keep.”
“I'm sure it's delicious. But now's not a good time. Rachel's upset and da Vinci won't come for dinner and William's mad at me.”
“What would Thanksgiving be without a little dysfunction? At least your Uncle Louie didn't throw up on the new Persian rug.”
Cortland had a way of putting everything in perspective.
“Well, I can just come back later, then.”
Barbara came up behind me. “What's taking so long? Cortland! I'm so glad you could make it. Do come in.”
“Mom, I was just telling him that we got a late start.”
“Oh, we've got room.” She led him by the hand, and when Cortland saw Joel's picture on the plate at the only empty seat, he backed away. “I'll just go grab a chair from the kitchen.”
I held my breath. The crowd looked at me and then Judith, who stood and plucked the frame from the plate. “It's fine, darling. Joel wouldn't mind. In fact, I'm quite sure he would've liked you. Don't you agree, Ramona?”
Cortland held my gaze. I nodded, and he took Joel's seat. Rachel stuck her nose up in the air. I considered pulling my mother aside to tell her Rachel and Cortland had broken up, but thought it might make an even bigger scene.
While Noble and Cortland talked golf and Judith tried to convince Zoya to visit Life Church that weekend, I noticed a familiar car pulling up in front of the house.
“Daddy!” Zoe squealed.
Rachel peered outside and slammed her fist on the table, rattling the china. “Wait a minute. Is that someone in the car with him? It is! It's a woman.” She threw down her napkin and shot up from her chair.
I opened the curtain and saw Anh slinking in the front seat and Michael trying to convince her to get out. This wouldn't end well.
“We'll make room,” Noble said cheerfully. “The more the merrier, right, dear?”
“We'll do no such thing,” Rachel said, following her daughter out the door.
Anh was resting against the passenger door and Vi was still in her carseat in the back when I reached them.
Zoe rushed to hug her father, and Rachel stopped in her tracks on the sidewalk. “ You! ”
Anh glanced up sheepishly and fingered a wave to Rachel. Michael beamed, oblivious to his ex-wife's reaction. “Great. Everybody's here. But I guess introductions aren't necessary.”
Rachel spun on her heel and glared at me. “You knew all along, didn't you? Your best friend was sleeping with my husband and you didn't have the decency to tell me about it. What kind of sister are you?”
Michael took Anh's hand and stared at his ex-wife. “Would it kill you to be happy for me?”
Rachel stuck her nose into the air. “Be nice! Ha! You'll be sorry you ever crossed me! And don't even think about asking me back! I wouldn't take you back if you were the last human on earth!”
Michael smirked. “I don't think that will be a problem. Come on, let's not ruin a perfectly good holiday.”
“ Good? What do I have to be thankful for? A jackass husband and a lying, conniving sister who keeps secrets behind my back? Yes, Happy Thanksgiving, indeed! While you're busy ruining my life, is there anything else I should know about?” Rachel stared at me, then Cortland, and back again.
Cortland began to raise his hand, when I slapped it down. “No, I think that will do it for today.”
Rachel stomped back into the house. Anh got Vi out of the car seat while Michael began walking up the steps with his daughter. I stayed back and waited for Anh. “For some reason, I thought she'd take the news better.”
Anh walked in stride beside me. “Kill me now,” she muttered.
Cortland grabbed my fingers, pulling me back so we were the last in line to reach the front porch. “So Rachel broke up with me last night, just before I got the chance.”
“So I heard.”
“So have you told her you'd like to start seeing me?”
“I don't know if I'd like to start seeing you. Are all doctors this presumptuous, or is it just you?”
He put his hand on my waist, and his forearm next to my head, pushing me back against the brick of the house. “Well, I think you should know our duck house passed inspection. With flying feathers, you might say. I close tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? That's awfully soon, isn't it?”
“When you know what you want, why wait?”
“I suppose I could bake you some cookies as a housewarming gift. To welcome you to the neighborhood and all.”
“Cookies? I had something else in mind.”
“My father always said patience was a virtue.”
“British origin, right? The capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble or suffering without getting angry or upset. Yeah, I pretty much suck at that.”
“What are you, some kind of walking dictionary?”
“No, but I'm pretty good at defining what I want. Getting it is the tough part.”
Our eyes lingered, and I touched his cheek as he leaned in closer. “We better get inside,” I said, my hand pressed against his chest.
Cortland stepped back. “I'm going to take off. I've got Lindsey for the weekend. She's going to help me move in.”
“Okay, then. I'll see you around.”
Cortland began walking down the sidewalk, when he turned back. “You know when you said that I put people to sleep for a living?”
“I recall something of the sort.”
“Well, just remember that I wake them up, too.”
Chapter 23
“ Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit. ”
– Kahlil Gibran
ACCORDING TO PSYCHOLOGISTS, 95 percent of people think about sex at least once a day. I belonged squarely within the freakish 5 percent that didn't. Until da Vinci. After that, I thought about sex a dozen times a day-nothing compared to a man, but often for a woman. As I finished up my dissertation to hand in to my professor, I realized I hadn't been missing the physical act of sex. Sure, I'd been missing pleasure, but what I'd missed most was the golden triangle of sex, love and communication. I missed a real-thing relationship. I thought After, I'd never be real with anyone again, settling within the uncomfortable typecast of a melancholy widow. It was only after I stepped back into the world of the living again that I could consider loving again.