it.”
Irene crossed the kitchen in four steps and snatched
it from me. I stepped back as she took tongs from a drawer and
opened the freezer door. “I understand you’re Jewish,” she said
with a sneer, extracting ice from the plastic bag.
“ My father was Jewish. I
was raised a Catholic.”
“ That still makes you half
Jewish.”
“ That doesn’t make me
anything.”
Her lips curled in contempt. “You’re right.
You’re nothing.”
The hairs on the back of my neck bristled.
How could this dreadful, tactless, bigoted woman be related to my
sweet loving Maggie? And what did she think of Maggie’s
best—black—friend, Brenda?
“ Why did you invite me
here, since you obviously don’t like me.”
“ For Maggie, of course,”
she said, practically throwing ice into the bucket.
Yes. Maggie. And I supposed I could suffer
for a little while longer. At least until Maggie had had
enough.
“ My sister led a calm, safe
life until the day you barged into it. First, her boss was
murdered—”
“ That happened before I met
Maggie.”
“ She lost her
job—”
“ That wasn’t my
fault.”
“ Your lousy driving nearly
killed her.”
“ We were run off the
road.”
“ Only weeks ago some kook
broke into your brother’s house and cracked her over the head,
giving her a concussion.”
No doubt about it, I was a trouble magnet.
Maggie had faced moments of danger and unpleasantness at my
side.
“ You’re not good enough for
my sister,” she grated, finished filling the bucket and slammed the
freezer door. “You’ll never amount to anything, and if you were any
kind of gentleman, you’d leave her alone and let her get on with
her life.”
I exhaled angrily. “I love Maggie. I would
never do anything to hurt her.”
“ You’re a loser. Now, get
out of my kitchen.”
I would’ve liked to have smacked that sneer
from her face. Instead, I just glared at her.
The door from the living room swished open.
Maggie poked her head inside. “Oh, there you two are. Irene, the
caterer’s at the front door. Do you want them to set up now?”
“ They’re early,” Irene
groused, abandoned the ice bucket and rushed from the
room.
“ Did I just miss
something?” Maggie asked.
I gave her a smile. “No, babe, everything’s
okay.” I retrieved the now-full ice bucket and followed Maggie back
to the living room.
Irene blossomed into the equivalent of a
Broadway producer as she directed the catering firm where to place
the food. Next she bossed the family to the table, and dutifully
every one fell into line like drafted soldiers, taking their
seats.
The caterers were dismissed and Irene directed the
dissemination of turkey, cranberries and vegetables. The Brennan
clan dished out huge portions of stuffing and all the other
accouterments, while I took a small scoop of potatoes, a slice of
turkey and a spoonful of stuffing.
I glanced at my watch and figured Richard
and Brenda were probably halfway to Cozumel. Brenda had been
disappointed when Richard announced he’d booked the trip for
Christmas Day. She’d wanted to put on a complete holiday feast, but
I’d convinced her that January 6th—Epiphany—could be her last stab
at making merry for this holiday season.
The Brennan family weren’t great
conversationalists, but Irene was asking each in turn how they
liked the food. While occupied, their collective disdain for me had
diminished, but I still found it weird that they’d taken on Irene’s
dislike for me as a form of family unity.
I pushed a morsel of stuffing around my
plate before forking it into my mouth.
“ What’s the matter, Jeff,
isn’t the food good enough for you?” Irene eyed me with
scorn.
Well, at least she
addressed me by my name and not Hey,
you . I swallowed. “It’s very good. I’m just
not a big eater.”
“ I wish I had your lack of
appetite,” Maggie said and gave a hollow laugh. “Everything’s
delicious, Irene.” Maggie would’ve said that even if she