right to be upset about it. People are going to say nasty things about you, and that hurts all of us because we love you.”
“I don’t give a damn what people say,” she snapped back at him.
“Apparently. So Mom should be humiliated by your bad behavior, AND have you be nasty to her on top of it? Wow, what a cool deal for her. I hope your kids will be nicer to you than you are to her.” Claire had tears in her eyes but she wouldn’t give in, and didn’t look at Kate, who had tears in her eyes too. Claire suspected her mother would be crying and didn’t want to see her tears. “You’re being a jerk,” he added.
“That’s enough,” Kate stepped in then and they stopped.
“What are you doing for Thanksgiving, Mom?” Tammy asked her. “Are you going to a restaurant with Grandma?”
“No, I’m cooking squab from a French recipe at home, with all the fixings, including chestnut stuffing. And then we’re going to a movie. And don’t forget our Christmas Eve dinner.”
“We’re going to Saint Bart’s,” Claire chimed in to get out of it. Anthony gave her a furious look.
“No, you’re not,” he said. “Reed told me you’re going the day after Christmas, so you’d damn well better be there on Christmas Eve with the rest of us, or I’ll kick your ass,” he threatened her as he had when they were teenagers.
“Why don’t you have Alicia do it?”
“I will, and believe me, that would be a lot worse for you than if I did it. She’s hell on wheels.” Tammy laughed at the thought, and dinner wound down after that. They’d had a nice time together, in spite of Claire. Then they all kissed and hugged and wished each other a happy Thanksgiving, and went their separate ways. Reed had a car and driver waiting outside the restaurant for Claire. Anthony and Tammy shared an Uber, and Kate went uptown in a cab. She wondered when Claire was going to relax again, and if she ever would. Or if she was trying to separate from her mother and the family. At least she had shown up.
They all called to say goodbye and thank her the next day, and that night she was studying her French cookbook so she didn’t screw up the squab. She started cooking early Thursday morning, and Margaret arrived at eleven. By some sheer miracle, the squab was absolutely perfect and a golden brown when Kate served it, with a delicate sauce, chestnut stuffing, wild rice, and an assortment of vegetables. She even made popovers which she knew her mother loved.
“I think this is the best Thanksgiving meal I’ve ever had,” Margaret said happily. “I can’t believe you cooked it.”
“Neither can I,” Kate admitted. She had bought small apple, pumpkin, mince, and pecan pies for dessert, and made whipped cream to put on top. They both had a sliver of each, and Kate served cappuccino with dessert.
“That was a four-star meal,” Margaret said when they sat on the couch after dinner.
Kate missed the kids, but as long as they were coming for Christmas, she was happy, and willing to give them up for Thanksgiving. She was planning to use the weekend to catch up on work, do some things around the apartment, and some reading. She had already started Christmas shopping, and wanted to do more of that too. She had found a pink cashmere sweater for Alicia, a good-looking tweed jacket for Stacey, and a pair of cuff links for Reed. She was working her way down a list for her own children. She wanted to do some shopping with Claire for the nursery, but she didn’t seem to be interested in doing it with her. Claire was determined not to share the experience with her mother, to punish her.
Kate was putting some linens away when her phone rang on Friday morning at ten o’clock. She assumed it was her mother, scurried down the ladder she’d been using and answered. There was a male voice she didn’t recognize at the other end. He asked for her, and then she knew who it was. It was Scott White.
“Happy Thanksgiving. Jesus, was that ever a nightmare at the settlement conference on Monday. I’m sorry I was so rude to you. I get paid to do that by my asshole client, kind of like a Mafia hitman.” She laughed.
“It’s too bad he won’t take the offer. We won’t go higher.”
“I told