no one could keep track of who was mad at whom.
Even Ruby the dog was upset by the situation. She knew that everyone was out of sorts, and she spent her time walking up to each member of the family and licking them on the hand, as if to say, Don’t worry, it will all be fine. At the end of each day, she looked exhausted, lying on her green bed in the corner of the TV room, her head on her paws. Ruby had taken to eating her food quickly, like she was afraid someone was going to take it away from her if she paused or looked up.
“She’s not even chewing,” Claire pointed out. And it was true. The dog was just scarfing down her food, swallowing the pieces whole.
“Maybe she’s an emotional eater,” Martha said.
“A what?” Claire asked.
“An emotional eater,” Martha repeated. “You know, like she’s eating her feelings because she’s upset about Max.”
Both Weezy and Claire stood and stared at Martha without saying a word.
AFTER THANKSGIVING, MAX HAD TAKEN to calling Claire’s cell phone every day. “Just checking in,” he’d say.
“Things will get better,” Claire told him. She could think of nothing else to say.
“I can’t even imagine that right now,” Max said.
“Trust me. I know it seems bad, but in a few months it will be fine.”
“Months?”
“Just give it time.”
Claire convinced Max to come home for Christmas, telling him it would be worse if he didn’t. So he’d arrived with Cleo in tow, who still wasn’t talking to her mother and was so quiet that she didn’t even seem like the same person. All of Christmas was quiet, actually. They sat around reading books most of the time, which seemed to be the perfect activity since they could ignore each other and still pretend to be spending time together. Everyone took a lot of naps. And even Bets, who didn’t know that Cleo was pregnant yet, seemed to sense that something was off and was on unusually good behavior.
“Won’t your mother miss you?” she asked Cleo.
“Oh, no. She’ll be fine.”
One night, Claire got up and had a cigarette in the bathroom. She never would have dared if Bets hadn’t been there, but who was going to know the difference? She sat on the tile floor, her back against the wall, and smoked slowly, letting the cigarette burn down to her fingers. She sort of understood what it was that Bets liked about this. It was secret and solo. It was just one little thing that she had for herself. When she was done, she flushed the butt down the toilet and went back into Martha’s room and climbed into the twin bed.
“Did you just smoke in there?” Martha asked.
“No,” Claire said. “I didn’t.”
They all went to midnight mass on Christmas Eve, and came back home to have eggnog by the fire. Bets excused herself, telling everyone that it was well past her bedtime.
“I’m an old woman,” she said. “Practically on death’s door. I’m not cut out for this anymore.” She’d worn her best red suit, which seemed too big for her. Bets had always been tiny. “I barely eat,” she sometimes said. But now she was practically miniature. She seemed to be proof that old people really did shrink. It was a frightening thought.
The rest of them settled in the living room and Will started a fire. Claire was certain that they all wished they could go to bed like Bets had, but this was their tradition and they didn’t really have a choice.
Weezy poured everyone eggnog with a shot of whiskey, except for Cleo, of course. “This one’s a virgin,” she said, handing the glass to Cleo. Cleo blushed and took it. “Well, that’s an awful term, isn’t it?” Weezy asked. It was like everyone was trying to be as awkward as possible.
Claire even wished that Cathy was there with them. It would have been lovely to have someone to talk loudly and hog the conversation. But Maureen, Cathy, and Ruth had decided to visit Drew in California for Christmas. “We’re just in need of some sunshine,” Maureen had said. But that was a lie. Maureen just didn’t want to be anywhere near the Coffey house that Christmas. And really, who could blame her? She’d offered to come back and fly home with Bets on the twenty-seventh, which was her way of apologizing, and Weezy had seemed to accept it gladly.
Christmas morning, they opened their presents politely, thanking each other like they’d met not