Hamptons Surprise, page 2
“She boils all her vegetables,” Keegan complained.
“To death,” Amelia added. “They get so soggy. It’s like eating a plant that was left out in the rain.”
Alice kept her eyes on the road. “I’ll let you leave the one-star review once we’ve left town.”
“Can’t we stay with Aunt Chelsea?” Amelia asked.
“Chelsea has a full house. Besides, it’s only for the weekend.”
Amelia grunted her disapproval. “Mom-mom always asks me if I brushed my hair right after I’ve done it.”
Not to be outdone, Keegan added his own Mom-mom experience. “When we FaceTimed last month, I told her I got an A minus on my math test and she asked me what I screwed up.”
Alice said nothing. She was familiar with her mother’s parenting style. Ruthie Alpert could make it all the way to the Moon and only see the dark side.
“She keeps pestering me about boys, asking if I have a crush on anyone,” Amelia continued. “It’s annoying.”
Alice hit the button for the radio to drown out the sounds of insubordination. She didn’t want to hear any more complaints. They only served to reinforce her own opinion of the matter.
Keegan rolled his eyes. “Not old people music.” He changed the station until he found a song he deemed more palatable. The moment he made his selection, an incoming call cut through the music.
Alice glanced at the screen and pressed her lips into a line. She recognized the number of one of the firm’s most important clients and reluctantly accepted the call.
“Alice Hughes.”
“Alice, it’s Benjamin Barnes. I wanted to talk to you about that trademark search report.”
“I would be happy to discuss the results with you, Mr. Barnes, but I’m driving right now. Can I call you back?” Alice was a multitasker in many areas of her life, but the car wasn’t one of them. The older she got, the more she needed to focus on the road.
“As soon as you can, please. I’d like to check this off my list before the weekend.” He hung up before Alice could respond.
“Doesn’t he know the weekend already started?” Amelia asked.
“Not his, apparently.” Alice was accustomed to clients who worked around the clock, which was one of the main reasons she, too, worked nonstop.
“Will Uncle Finn be there?” Keegan asked.
“Not sure if he’ll be at dinner, but he’ll be at the service tomorrow.”
“And Pop-pop?” Amelia asked.
“Yes, he and Penny will definitely be there tomorrow.”
Amelia fidgeted in the seat. “Why do we call your mother Mom-mom, but Penny is Penny?”
“Because Mom-mom is our real grandmother and Penny isn’t,” Keegan said, before Alice had a chance to answer.
“I don’t like the word ‘real,’” Alice said. “Penny is a lovely woman and she’s been very good to us.”
“We should give her a special name,” Amelia said.
“You might’ve decided on that earlier in life,” Keegan said.
“It’s not my fault,” Amelia protested.
The truth was that Alice had avoided choosing a special name for Penny because she knew it would upset her mother and Chelsea had followed suit when she had kids. So Penny stayed Penny.
“If you’re serious, I would suggest brainstorming now rather than at Mom-mom’s,” Alice said. She could only imagine the names her mother would put forth, most of them inappropriate for children.
“I think Penny prefers her own name,” Keegan said.
“How do you know? Aunt Isabel and Uncle Freddie don’t have any kids of their own yet.” She poked her head between the head rests and looked at Alice. “Do you think one of them will have kids soon?”
“I have no idea,” Alice said.
“I hope so,” Amelia said. “Then we’d actually get to see our cousins because they live in the city.”
Alice felt a pang of guilt. Chelsea and Brendan lived in the Hamptons, so Amelia and Keegan rarely saw their three cousins, except on FaceTime.
“Can we go see the lighthouse?” Amelia asked.
Keegan craned his neck to give his sister an incredulous look. “That’s like another hour from Mom-mom’s.”
“Are you sure? I don’t remember it being that far.”
Alice glanced at her daughter in the rearview mirror. “Really? Because the last time we went, you complained you were carsick for most of the journey.” The historic Montauk Point Light was on Turtle Hill at the far end of the island. It was a popular spot for visitors, and Alice had made a point of showing it off to Greg during their first trip to the Hamptons together. He liked Montauk so much that he made it essential viewing every time they returned. Apparently, his enthusiasm had rubbed off on Amelia.
“I don’t remember that,” Amelia said. “I just like the lighthouse.” She turned to gaze out her window, offering Alice a view of her perfect profile. Amelia had inherited Greg’s sloped nose, for which Alice was grateful. Alice’s nose had ‘character,’ according to her mother, but Alice didn’t believe that any body part should be described that way.
“You know I love Montauk, too, but we won’t have time. This is a quick trip, remember?” Alice hated to say no, knowing that a visit to the lighthouse would be a way for Amelia to feel connected to her dad. But still. They were only here for a short stay and there were plenty of memories in the city. After all, that had been their home as a family. Not here. Never here.
Keegan took control of the radio again and Alice sank into a dream state as she drove along Montauk Highway. When she saw a sign for Westhampton, Alice’s tension returned anew.
Not far now.
Chapter Four
Ruthie Alpert Hughes wiped her hands on a dishcloth and adjusted the hem of her top. Her oldest child was only ten minutes away and Ruthie wanted to make sure dinner was ready the moment they arrived.
Finn hovered in the doorway to the kitchen. Once he heard Alice was coming tonight, he insisted on coming over to see his sister. “Should I open the wine?”
“I thought you were having beer,” Ruthie said.
“That was my pre-dinner drink. I’m thinking ahead.”
Ruthie smiled at her only son. It was such a Finn thing to say. “White or red?”
“You made lasagna, right? I think the answer’s obvious.”
Ruth inclined her head. “In the pantry.”
Finn entered the walk-in pantry and emerged with a bottle, chuckling. “Still won’t buy any Beachcomber, huh?”
Ruthie’s expression soured. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of it tomorrow,” she said. Ruthie wasn’t exactly happy about Aunt Jean’s passing, but she wasn’t unhappy either. The woman had lived a long and prosperous life to the ripe old age of ninety-eight. As far as lives and deaths went, Aunt Jean was more fortunate than most.
“No one’s forcing you to go, you know,” Finn said.
Ruthie glared at him. “I’m going. It isn’t like she’ll be there.”
Finn’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You never know. She might be there in spirit.”
“And what? I’ll burst into flames upon arrival like a vampire in church?”
Even though Jean was Hunton’s aunt and no blood relation of Ruthie’s, the older woman hadn’t taken sides during the divorce. Their rift occurred years later, a fact which Ruthie was unable to forgive. She’d loved Aunt Jean like she was her own flesh and blood, and it had come as a terrible shock to learn there were limits to Aunt Jean’s love. Ruthie had believed it was unconditional and the discovery that it wasn’t had hardened her heart that little bit more.
“I haven’t been to the Beachcomber in forever,” Finn said. “I don’t even know anyone who’s been there recently. It isn’t a place that comes up in conversation.”
Finn would know. As a realtor, Ruthie knew he kept abreast of all the local business chatter.
“Maybe it’s fallen on hard times,” Ruthie said.
Finn gave her a pointed look. “Try not to sound so pleased.”
Jessica entered the kitchen and Ruthie’s eyes were immediately drawn to her daughter-in-law’s trim waist. It wouldn’t kill her to eat more calories and cut down on hours at the gym. She was starting to look emaciated.
“Can I help with anything?” Jessica asked. As far as daughters-in-law went, Jessica was decent. Not quite up to Ruthie’s standards for her only son, but it could’ve been worse. Finn could’ve married Georgina, the one before Jessica. Ruthie never would’ve gotten over it. Georgina was one of those women with more ideas than sense. She marched in protests and didn’t wear a bra half the time. Ruthie couldn’t understand what Finn saw in her, other than the convenience of no bra. She’d been relieved when they’d called it quits. Apparently, Finn was ‘too much of a capitalist’ because he sold houses in the Hamptons. It was ironic, really. Ruthie still remembered Finn as a teenager who resented that girls were more interested in the rich kids who swarmed the beaches and parties in July and August. Of course, those wealthy teens were now adults who bought their own luxury properties in the Hamptons, courtesy of Hughes Realty.
A fellow realtor, Jessica was more his speed, although Ruthie wondered why they were waiting so long to start a family. Finn was forty-two and Jessica was thirty-seven. Tick tock, she thought. Time waits for no man or woman. She knew this fact all too well.
“I think we’re ready,” Ruthie said. “I tried not to overcook the broccoli.” Her cooking was the target of criticism and Alice came to stay so infrequently that Ruthie didn’t want to give her or the kids any reason to complain.
“The table’s set,” Jessica said.
“Thank you. Would you open that bottle, Finn? I think I’d like a drink now.”
“It’s a shame Chelsea and Brendan couldn’t be here,” Jessica said.
“I know, but one of the kids has an activity of some kind,” Ruthie said. There were so many commitments between those three kids that she couldn’t keep up with them.
“They’re coming to the memorial service tomorrow, right?” Finn asked.
“Oh, yes.” She turned away from the oven. “I suppose your father and Penny will be there, too.”
Finn handed her a glass of wine. “I should think so. Jean was his aunt.”
“You don’t need to remind me.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing Freddie and Isabel, too,” Finn said. “They’re as bad as Alice when it comes to visiting.”
“They’re young,” Ruthie said. “The city’s a more exciting place to be at that age.”
“Not to me,” Finn said.
No. Ruthie knew early on that Finn wouldn’t be a city boy. Even the occasional trip to Manhattan to see a show or go to a museum made her son twitchy. Like her, he disliked the hustle and bustle and the crowded spaces. He was much happier in the Hamptons, especially during the off-season when locals had the run of the place.
The slamming of a car door interrupted her thoughts. “They’re here.”
* * *
Finn went to the door to greet his sister. He hadn’t seen Alice or her kids in six months. He and Jessica had gone into the city for a weekend to see a show and they’d had dinner at Alice’s apartment afterward. He felt guilty for not seeing her more frequently since Greg died, but his work kept him busy. Jessica had suggested inviting them to visit more than once, and Finn had given a noncommittal response. He knew his sister wasn’t keen on making the trek to the Hamptons. Finn was aware of Alice’s efforts to circumnavigate their mother and he didn’t blame her. Ruthie could be difficult, as all mothers could. Jessica’s parents lived in Florida now, so most of their time was spent in the company of Finn’s divided family.
He opened the front door and waved. Alice had already unzipped her coat and Finn immediately conjured up a memory of their last dinner conversation. Alice had complained of hot flashes and insomnia and they’d laughed at Finn’s apparent discomfort. He’d changed the subject to the Mets, which only prompted more laughter. He was glad Jessica wasn’t there yet. He didn’t want to hear about menopause. He barely wanted to hear about her menstrual cycle, but he didn’t have much of choice given how much importance it had in their lives right now.
“Hello, brother.” Alice slipped off her coat and hung it on the rack in the foyer.
Finn balked at the sight of his niece and nephew. It had only been six months, yet they each seemed to have sprouted another couple inches.
“Hey, Uncle Finn,” Keegan said, a little too loudly.
Finn noticed the wireless earbuds and tapped one. “You might want to take those off before your grandmother sees them.” No electronics at the table, that was the rule. Finn wasn’t even permitted to take a work call during mealtimes. Dinner at his mother’s house made him feel like a child again, and not in a good way.
“It’s not like we’re eating yet.” Despite the protest, Keegan tugged the earbuds from his ears.
“Wine,” Alice blurted.
Finn suppressed a smile. Alcohol was a necessity when it came to enduring dinner conversation with their mother. Half the time it was more akin to an interrogation. Alice got the brunt of it, of course. That was the price she paid for leaving the Hamptons and for letting their mother’s calls go to voicemail more often than not.
“Ask and you shall receive,” Jessica said. She tapped the counter where a glass of wine was ready and waiting.
Alice cradled the glass in both hands like she was about to drink water she’d sourced from the Fountain of Youth. “This is the only glass I’m having or I won’t be able to function tomorrow.”
“Still out of practice?” Finn asked.
Alice nodded before taking a hesitant sip.
“How were the roads?” Ruthie asked.
“They were fine, Mom-mom.” Amelia bounded over to hug her grandmother. She reminded Finn of an eager Labrador. She seemed far too upbeat for a teenager, especially one who’d lost her dad to cancer. Finn would’ve been a brooding mess. He was only two when his parents divorced, so he’d been spared the memories of an intact family. Even with that mercy, he’d been a moody teenager.
“When’s the last time you had a haircut?” Ruthie asked, gently pulling a strand of Amelia’s long hair.
Amelia ducked her head and took a step backward. Inwardly, Finn sighed. Could his mother not see how her words affected others? She’d been the same with all of them—no one was immune to Ruthie’s criticisms-disguised-as-concern. When he had a child of his own, he would make sure his mother gave more thought to the things she said. When he’d said this to Jessica once, she’d laughed until she choked.
“She’s growing it out,” Alice said. “Then she wants to cut it for Locks of Love.”
His mother scowled. “I never liked the idea of someone else wearing my hair. It’s odd.”
“You say that because you have a full head of hair,” Keegan said. “You might feel differently if you were bald from chemo.”
Finn raised his eyebrows at Alice but said nothing. He was impressed with his nephew, pushing back without sounding like a complete twat. Good for him.
“Dinner’s ready,” his mother announced. “Why don’t we eat before it gets cold? I have it on good authority that nobody likes cold broccoli.”
They moved to the dining table and Finn waited dutifully until his mother told them where to sit. He knew better than to try and take any seat he wanted.
“That creepy portrait’s still here,” he heard Amelia whisper to her brother.
“It was here when Mom was little. I don’t think it has plans to go anywhere,” Keegan whispered back.
Finn snorted. The portrait hung on the living room wall, which was, thankfully, the least-used room in the house. ‘Fat Baby,’ as the portrait was known in their family, depicted a child of an uncertain age wearing a white frilly hat and dress. His mother had purchased it from a local antiques dealer when he was a kid during her Colonial Williamsburg phase. One summer his mother had driven the three kids to Virginia and she’d become intent on recreating the look of the historic homes they’d viewed there. The living room acquired floral prints, a pineapple lamp, and Fat Baby. It wasn’t an attractive painting and the eyes followed you around the room. It was strangely reassuring to know their rejection of the portrait had been passed down to the next generation.
“What are your friends doing over spring break?” Finn asked the kids.
“I bet they’re not all going somewhere as wonderful as the Hamptons,” his mother interjected.
“My friend Diego is going to Puerto Rico with his family,” Keegan said.
“Lucy’s gone to Miami,” Amelia said. “Her family has a condo right on the water.”
“We have miles of beaches right here,” his mother said, cutting her lasagna into small squares.
“But it’s cold now,” Amelia said. “Miami is hot.”
“Miami also has a lot of drugs,” his mother said.
Finn slapped his forehead. “Mom, let’s not…”
“That reminds me,” his mother said, “I need to call the doctor for a new prescription. I’ve had this UTI for weeks. If these antibiotics don’t get rid of it, I’ll need a bladder transplant.”
“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Keegan said.
“Of course it is,” his mother said. “If they can clone a goat from DNA, they can transplant a bladder.”
Amelia frowned. “You need surgery?”
“Mom-mom’s exaggerating,” Alice said. “Nobody needs surgery.”
“I’m not sure that we need to hear about your medical issues over dinner,” Finn said.
“Well, when else would you hear about them?” his mother demanded. “This is the only time I have a captive audience.”
“Let’s change the subject,” Jessica said. “This lasagna is delicious, Ruth.”
“I’ll give you the recipe, that way you can make it for your own kids when you finally get around to having them.”
Finn’s stomach tightened. This was not the direction he wanted the conversation to go. Before he could intervene, he caught a whiff of a strange scent and sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?” It reminded him of burnt toast.
