two of you could be sisters!” He has an Irish accent, and he grins at me outrageously, breaking the tension, as I start to laugh.
“I’m Aidan.” He leans forward and shakes hands, and I am instantly at home with him. “Let me take that.” He takes the champagne from my hand. “I like a girl who comes prepared.”
“More than prepared,” I say, reaching into my pocket and handing Julia a bar of Cadburys as her face lights up. Then a clatter of small feet down stairs, and a small blond girl is standing in front of me.
“Hi!” she says, twirling in her pink tutu. “I’m Summer, and I’m four. Do you like my dress?”
“I do.” I crouch down. “I think it might be the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh shit!” yells Julia, dashing back to the kitchen. “The onions!”
“Don’t curse in front of Summer,” says a cool voice, and I look up to see a woman coming down the stairs, the picture of elegance in her hippie-ish but clearly ridiculously expensive white tunic, chunky gold jewelry, and gold-streaked hair swept up in a clip.
Ellie. It has to be. Everything Brooks said about her fits. There is an air of imperiousness about her as she glides over to me, although it may also be that I think that because I am still slumped in a crouch, pretending to be admiring her daughter’s tutu, looking up at this vision of ice-princessy loveliness.
She is dark skinned, like both Julia and me, but more refined than either of us. Her nose is tiny, petite, her lips full, prettily parting to reveal large, perfect white teeth. She reminds me of someone, but I can’t think who, until it suddenly comes to me. Of course. Audrey Hepburn. The delicateness, the prettiness, as if someone had Photoshopped me down to a daintiness and size that few people in real life ever attain.
But she is real. And coolly appraising me. I stand up, wishing I were not wearing this purple top from Warehouse that looked incredibly good when I bought it three years ago, but many washes in has clearly seen better days. I wish I weren’t wearing old sneakers that were once white but are now distinctly grey. I wish I had a smaller nose, thinner thighs, slender wrists.
In short, I wish I were exactly like her, because the very perfection of her instantly makes me feel entirely inadequate.
“I’m Cat.” I shake her outstretched hand, hoping for a warm welcome like the one I got from Julia, but I know as soon as I look at her that the chances of that happening are not very likely, and I’m right. She just looks at me.
“I’m Ellie. And this is a surprise,” she says. She smiles then, but the warmth definitely doesn’t reach her eyes. “You met Summer, obviously, and Trudy is upstairs having a nap. You’ll meet her later.”
Julia comes whirling back from the kitchen, her energy instantly lifting the room. “Isn’t it weird, Ellie? Doesn’t she look just like us? Like me?”
“She looks like you,” Ellie says, and it is clear she not only does not think I look like her, but that the very prospect of that would fill her with horror.
“Champagne!” says Aidan, appearing behind Julia with a silver tray filled with full champagne flutes. “Time to celebrate!”
I hesitate only slightly before taking the champagne. Everyone takes a glass. How can I possibly be the only one to decline? How rude! Not to mention that any fears I had have been confirmed by Ellie’s coolness. This isn’t going to be the straightforward perfect family reunion I had hoped for, that much is clear. It’s not like it’s vodka, anyway. It’s champagne, which is completely different. I’m certainly not going to be the one to spoil the fun.
“To family!” says Brooks, raising his glass. “To my newfound daughter, the lovely Cat. How grateful we are that you have now found us. Cheers!”
“Slainte!” murmurs Aidan, standing behind me. I turn and toast him, and he winks. “Don’t worry about Ellie,” he says quietly, leaning forward so I’m the only one who can hear him. “She’s a bitch on wheels. It’s nothing personal.”
“Thank you,” I say with relief. “She’s the one I was terrified of meeting.”
“Everyone’s terrified of her,” he says in his soft Irish brogue. “Drink up. There’s nothing like a bit of champagne to chase the terrors away.” He’s right, I think, so I nod, and I do.
* * *
How I love this new