still held Catcher in the Rye responsible for Libby’s rebellious streak, which was blamed for her marrying a middle-class schmuck from Tarrytown, and gasp, becoming a lowly prosecutor.
I took a long look at the identical twins. I thought it made me a horrible father every time I would mix them up, but Libby recently mentioned that she’d often done the same, making me feel better. Her mothering skills and devotion to her children were beyond reproach.
“So what did you ask Santa for?” I asked.
Zooey answered for both of them, “A castle!”
I could tell she wasn’t referring to a plastic, toy version of one. They were definitely more Wainwright than Collins. But our relationship had come a long way since I got out, when I was nothing but a stranger to them. Over the last nine months, I’d gone from being “that guy” to “Daddy,” which I’m sure hadn’t gone unnoticed by their grandfather.
“Nice suit,” Alexander said to me. “I was worried you might wear prison stripes out of habit.”
I noticed a smile peering through the opening in his Santa beard. Seemed like they added some extra snark to the eggnog this year. But I refused to let him bait me in front of the girls. “I was honored to receive an invitation.”
He leaned in close to my ear. “I like to keep my enemies close, and those who steal my money even closer.”
To be fair, I didn’t steal his money. Alexander knew that, but suspected that I knew where it was, which was no different to him than if I robbed him at gunpoint. The FBI also suspects me in such matters, as does Alexander’s former business partner, now rival, Stone Scroggie, who was the mastermind behind the initial heist. It was irrelevant if I knew where it was—the important thing was that they thought I did, and that I was the only one who could deliver it to them.
I reached the maximum two minutes I could spend in Alexander’s presence without blood shooting out of my eyes. And since I thought that might scare the girls, I decided to move on. But just as I was about to slither away, my former mother-in-law cornered me. Alexander looked as annoyed by this turn of events as I was.
Beatrice was a Lennox, the other wealthy Connecticut family that had its name on the stationery. The Wainwright and Lennox families were constantly marrying each other—I could count six marriages off the top of my head—which was either creepy, or a well-organized plan to maintain the species, and eventually take over the world.
The not-yet-corrupted Franny and Zooey greeted their grandmother by running to her and hugging each of her legs, which were covered by her designer gown. I hoped that this might dislodge her robot limbs, and the Stepford Wife scheme would be publicly exposed, but no such luck. And Franny and Zooey couldn’t catch a break either, because they learned that their affectionate act was not acceptable etiquette for young ladies, especially since they almost spilled Beatrice’s drink. She threatened to lock them in the coal cellar if they didn’t drastically alter their behavior.
This was not an idle threat. The manor house did contain an actual working coal cellar, which Alexander liked to brag about. The cynic in me thought it might have something to do with a large investment W&L made in clean coal technology a few years back.
Once Beatrice was done scaring the dickens out of my kids, she turned her contempt on me. She admonished the “rude behavior” I exhibited upon my entrance, and informed me that I was “lucky” she didn’t revoke my parole, which I guess she believed she had the authority to do. Having seen the Wainwrights in action, I would never bet against their power and how far it reached.
Out of habit, I put my finger on my nose, which had always been the distress signal between Libby and me when one of us was trapped at these parties. But when I caught a glimpse of her across the room, engrossed in a conversation with her current boyfriend, Ned Blaine, I remembered that I was living in a whole new world these days. One that I would have to survive all on my own.
Kristmas Collins Excerpt (Chapter 4)
As I made my way to the door, Libby busted me from across the room. She gave me a look to remind me that I’ll never be able to put anything past her, whether it’s my smashing of