Snow Falls (19 page)

Ryan stood, accepting the hug he offered. “Good to see you too.”

“Missed you on the island this winter.”

“I’m sure you did. How many women did you bring with you this time?”

“Just three.” He glanced at their grandmother. “They were just friends, Carmen.”

“I may be old but I’m not stupid,” she said. “Why don’t you join us?”

“Can’t. I brought company along,” he said with a wink. “But I wanted to give Cat the head’s up.”

She flicked her eyes to his. “About?”

“Mother has lined up an interview for you.
People
magazine.”

“Mother can kiss my ass,” she said vehemently.

“Just thought you should know, so she didn’t just spring it on you,” he said.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Will you and your friend join us for dinner?” Carmen asked.

“Of course. I want her to meet Cat. She hasn’t been here before so I wanted to show her around.”

They waved him off, but Ryan was stewing over his words. Her mother was still clueless about how much that whole episode hurt her. Now, on the ten-year anniversary of her Pulitzer, she wanted to schedule an interview? Never.

“I didn’t know about the interview or I would have told you myself,” Carmen said.

“Why would she do that to me? It’s ancient history; I’ve tried to put it behind me. Why does she want to bring it up?”

“Oh, sweet Catherine, you know how your mother is. Any publicity will do.”

Ryan nodded. “That’s why I live where I do. I’m not a
name
there. I just want to be left in peace.”

Her grandmother surprised her with her question. “Do you get lonely, Catherine?”

She turned away, her gaze drifting to the surf. “I used to not, no,” she said honestly. “This summer though, it’s been tough,” she admitted.

“You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”

Ryan looked at her grandmother quickly, astonished that she would draw that conclusion.

“You have a different look about you this time,” Carmen explained. “Normally, you just look bored when you’re here; you go through the motions. Today, though, you have an almost wistful look on your face.” She took her hand again. “Want to share with your old grandmother?”

Ryan smiled. “Her name is Jen. She stayed with me for two months as winter turned to spring.”

“Ah. I see.”

“No. It wasn’t like that. She was stranded. Got her car caught in an avalanche,” she explained. “I guess I got used to her company.”

“And are you and this Jen lovers?”

Ryan felt her stomach flip over, picturing Jen as just that. Her lover. But she shook her head. “She left when the snow melted.”

“As I told Charles, I may be old but I’m not stupid.”

Ryan stood, pacing. “No, but I think I may be.”

“Want to tell me?”

“She lives in Santa Fe. I stopped off there on my way here,” she said. Her grandmother’s eyes watched her, but she said nothing. “She’s got a life. She’s got a boyfriend who wants to marry her. Whatever attraction there was between us, it’s all new to her. She doesn’t need this in her life.”

“So you stopped off there...why, then?”

Ryan looked back to the waves, staring at them. “I just had to see her.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and took a few steps away. “We slept together.”

“You slept together? With this woman who has a boyfriend?”

Ryan nodded.

“And is she one of these women who do that sort of thing because of your name?”

Ryan raised an eyebrow and Carmen laughed. “Of course I know what goes on, dear. The Ryan-Barrett name is very powerful.”

But Ryan shook her head. “Jen doesn’t know who I am.”

“Then why?”

That simple question made Ryan consider it fully. Yes, why had Jen slept with her? Why had Jen allowed all that had happened between them? Why was her touch so tender and affectionate? She turned away from what she feared was the truth.

“I don’t know why,” she said instead. “I just don’t know.”

***

“Oh...my God. What have you done to yourself?”

“Hello, Mother.”

“Your...your hair. It looks positively hideous, you must know that.”

“Yes, I’m doing well. It’s so good to see you too,” Ryan said sarcastically as she led Carmen to the dinner table.

“Surely you don’t plan to go out in public looking like that? Do you have any idea how many guests we’ll be having tomorrow? And media,” she added, as if that mattered.

“Since I’ve already paid my respects to Carmen, I don’t imagine it’s imperative that I be there anyway,” she said with a shrug. “I can just head back home.”

“Of course it’s imperative. Did you do this just to embarrass me?”

Ryan laughed. “Charles whores around town, yet my haircut embarrasses you? I think that’s a bit skewed, don’t you?”

Her mother turned to Arthur, who had been standing patiently behind her. “Call in Tommy. Tell him we have an emergency. Maybe he can fix her up.”

“Who’s Tommy?” Ryan asked.

“He’s my hairdresser. Perhaps he can find a wig or something for this.”

“Mother, your hairdresser is not touching me. And if you think I’m wearing a wig, you’re out of your fucking mind.” She pulled out a chair for Carmen, surprised by the smile playing on her grandmother’s face.

“Do not speak like that in this house, Catherine. I don’t know what kind of company you keep out there,” she said with a wave of her hand, “but we don’t use that word in this house.”

“What’s all the yelling about this time?” Charles said as he and his current flame walked in. “I’ll guess the hair,” he said.

“Can you believe she did that to herself?”

“I like it,” he said. “Cat, this is Presley Stewart. Presley, my sister Catherine.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Presley said as she shook Ryan’s hand.

“Thanks. You too,” Ryan said politely.

“And this is my grandmother, Carmen. And this lovely lady is my mother, Vanessa.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Presley said with a bit of a nervous smile on her face.

“Lovely to have you here, dear. Please sit,” Vanessa instructed.

Charles pulled out a chair for Presley, looking around the table as he did so. “We seem to be missing someone,” he said.

“Your father had...urgent business to attend to.”

Ryan and Charles exchanged glances, both knowing that was their mother’s way of telling them he was with his mistress. Ryan wondered why he couldn’t have made an exception, seeing as how she only visited once a year. But then again, could she blame him? His alternative was spending time with her mother. She reached for her wineglass, wishing Sophie would hurry with the meal.

“I assume you have everything in order for tomorrow,” Carmen said.

“Of course. It’s been in order for weeks now. Do you think I would allow something to slip through the cracks?”

Ryan felt the tension in the room and glanced over at Presley, offering an apologetic smile. She was shocked at the flirtatious look she received in return.

“Can we please skip all the drama?” Charles asked. “We have company after all,” he said, motioning to Presley.

“Of course, darling. Forgive me, Presley. This is just a stressful time for me—trying to put together Carmen’s birthday party. Something always goes wrong.” She looked over at Ryan. “Like my daughter thinking she looks good in a man’s haircut.”

There were so many things Ryan wanted to say, but she clamped her mouth shut. She reminded herself it was like this every year. Her mother always found something wrong with her. She always had. By the time Ryan reached fifteen, she’d stopped trying to please her.

“I like her hair,” Carmen said. “She looks...smart.”

“I like it too,” Presley said shyly. “It’s very attractive on you.”

Ryan kept her expression even as she looked from Presley to Charles, waiting for her mother’s response.

“Attractive? I know my daughter thinks she’s gay, but must she advertise it so?”

Ryan bit her lip, vowing—again—that this would be the last year she came here.

Charles gasped in mock surprise. “Gay?
Catbird
? You must be joking, Mother.”

Vanessa looked smugly over at Ryan. “It’s a shame you’re not more outgoing like your brother. He, at least, has a social life.”

Ryan turned to her grandmother. “Why do I put myself through this every year?” she murmured.

Her grandmother smiled sweetly at her, and Ryan of course knew the answer.

“By the way, I’ll need you to be available at ten tomorrow morning,” her mother said.

Ryan looked up. “Who? Me?”

“Yes, you.”

Ryan shook her head. “No. Whatever it is, no.”

“Catherine, you have obligations to this family, you know that.”

Ryan looked at her skeptically. “And what family obligation will I be filling?”

“There is a gentleman who wishes to speak with you. It should only take a half hour at most.”

“And would this gentleman happen to be a reporter?”

Vanessa glared at Charles, who had the good sense not to crack a joke at that particular moment.

“Like I said, it shouldn’t take more than a half hour.”

“And like I said, no.”

To her relief, Arthur escorted Sophie in with the serving cart at that point, and conversation halted as she served everyone. The lamb chop looked delicious, but Ryan’s appetite had vanished long ago.

“Thank you, Sophie. The plate looks lovely,” Vanessa said, dismissing her. Arthur followed obediently behind.

“This is perfect, as always,” Charles said as he took a bite. “She’s an excellent cook.”

Ryan agreed but knew she wouldn’t do the meal justice. Oh, how she wished she were back in the mountains, finishing up an evening hike with the dogs. She imagined walking inside her cabin to the smell of dinner on the stove...and Jen waiting for her.

“Why are you opposed to an interview?” her mother asked, pulling her back to the present.

“Mother, surely you know the answer to that.”

“Well, if you insist you wrote the book, why won’t you give an interview to tell your side of things?”

“Why should I have to tell my side? I wrote the book under a pseudonym to avoid publicity and to avoid the scrutiny that my name would cause. Lot of good that did.”

“Did you ever find out who leaked your name?” Charles asked.

“I can only guess. There were four people with that knowledge. The only one I trusted was my editor.”

“If I may ask, what are you talking about? What book?” Presley asked.

Charles glanced at Ryan, but Ryan shook her head. She was in no mood to get into all that now.

“I’ll explain later,” Charles said. “So Carmen, I heard that after you turn ninety, you’re going to cease having these birthday parties. Is that true?”

“Stop them? Of course we’re not stopping them,” Vanessa said dismissively. “This is an opportunity to show—” She stopped, apparently remembering they had a guest. “Regardless, we’re not stopping them.”

“Wow, Carmen, it’s like you’re a ventriloquist. I never once saw your mouth move,” Charles said with a laugh.

Ryan smiled too, knowing her brother was the only one who could get away with talking to their mother that way. She finished her glass of wine, hoping Arthur would come around soon to offer refills. As if reading her mind, he magically appeared, wine bottle in hand. She nodded at his silent request, waiting while he poured.

“I’ll have a bit more too, Arthur. Thank you,” Carmen said.

“Carmen? Do you think that’s wise?” Vanessa asked.

“I enjoy my wine, Vanessa. You know that,” she said. “Besides, I don’t believe there’s a maximum age limit.” She took a sip and gingerly put the glass back down. “By the way, I
do
intend on stopping my birthday parties after next year. If you wish to continue the fundraiser, that’s your business, of course,” she said. “But you’ll have to pick a different time of year for it and a different name.”

“Christopher has said no such thing to me,” Vanessa said.

“I don’t believe that Christopher’s name is on the banner outside, now is it?”

Ryan wanted to applaud her grandmother but seeing her mother’s look of disbelief was enough.

“Are they exhausting for you?” Ryan asked.

“Yes. And they keep getting bigger and lasting longer,” she said with a glance at Vanessa.

As is this dinner
, Ryan thought as she sipped her wine. She looked across the table, finding Presley’s gaze on her. She smiled politely at the other woman, wondering at her obvious interest. While it had happened before, it wasn’t often that one of Charles’ dates strayed from him to her.

Conversation was sparse; her mother appeared to be sulking. After what seemed an eternity, dessert was served, which Ryan declined. She was surprised her brother did as well.

“Join me in the study, Cat. We’ll catch up.”

She arched an eyebrow, thinking it terribly rude of him to ditch his date, but she agreed with a nod. Her father’s study was quite large, housing not only his desk and credenza but a conference table as well. Charles went to the liquor cabinet, holding up a bottle for her inspection.

“Cognac. Nice,” she said with a nod.

“You still like living in the mountains?”

“Love it,” she said, taking the glass he offered.

“Do you miss Aspen?”

She laughed. “Don’t miss the crowds, no. You still go skiing there?”

“Yes. I went this winter. Missed seeing you there,” he said.

“I was looking for something with a little more solitude and a lot less trendiness.”

He sat down in her father’s chair, and she pulled out one of the guest chairs. “My date seems to have her eye on you,” he said.

She nodded. “Noticed that, did you?”

“I’m shocked. She’s a little hellcat in bed, if you know what I mean.”

“She looks to be ten years younger than you.”

He grinned. “Eleven.”

“Where’d you meet her?”

“At a party, where else?” He eyed her. “You interested?”

“In her?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I could watch.”

“You’re insane.”

“We did it before. Remember that chick I brought home from college? What were you? Eighteen?”

“The difference is, I didn’t
know
you were watching,” she reminded him. She’d never been more embarrassed in her young life when she found out he’d been hiding in the closet. She’d already learned by then that her name could get her anything—anyone—she wanted. She just had no idea that included her brother’s girlfriends. Thankfully, Charles didn’t care. He’d already been entrenched in his playboy ways and
always
had a backup. She was, however, careful to check her closet from then on.