Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TONI
At the Monday morning department meeting after my impromptu and unintended pitch to Greta, she told everyone about my inspiring direction for the department. She said the pitch deck and business plan would be in everyone’s inbox after the meeting and moved on to other business. Later that day, she cleared her schedule, and we went through everything in detail. When she made comments and suggestions, somehow, I didn’t get angry, but took her feedback as it was intended. It helped that she was treating me as, if not an equal, at least as the expert in this area. I’d finally impressed my Type A, hard-charging, overachieving, impossible to please sister and my feeling of accomplishment was as thrilling as when I finished climbing my last fourteener. I’m always going to prefer to be outside in nature, but having a goal I believe in, and a sister who doesn’t treat me like a loser, makes being in the office easier.
I have Audrey to thank for it all.
That night after dinner I helped her in the kitchen while Greta and Willa cleaned up the deck.
“I knew you could do it,” Audrey said, her smile a little smug.
The light bulb went off.
“You planned this.”
Audrey shrugged one shoulder and snapped a lid on a glass storage container full of gumbo. “Bombing the presentation in front of a room full of people you’ve known for years would have done nothing for your confidence and would have probably sent you back into the wilderness for good. So, I gave you and Greta the opportunity to listen to each other on neutral ground.”
“You wouldn’t like it if I went back into the wilderness for good, huh?” I teased.
Audrey looked at me from beneath her eyelashes, giving me a very stern teacher look. It reminded me of her taking charge and fucking me senseless a mere week earlier.
“I know being out on the trail is your true love. You will never give that up and you shouldn’t. You wouldn’t be who you are if you did and you would be miserable, and you would hate anyone that asked you to do it. But I think you’re intelligent and sharp and so goddamned charming that you will absolutely make Fourteener Trekking a success. But it’s going to be tough and tedious at times, and you’re going to want to quit more than once. The question is, will you see it through?”
“What do you think?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Are you willing to sacrifice short-term thrills for a long-term satisfaction?”
Her eyes were riveted to mine, and I realized this question wasn’t just about Fourteener Trekking.
I opened my mouth to say Hell yes I am , but Greta and Willa returned to the kitchen and the moment was over. It’s best that we were interrupted because I am certain I would have said something stupid and flirty and immature. I might have even tried to kiss her.
In the two weeks since, I have managed to keep things professional, and I don’t think Audrey has any idea about the battle raging inside me every day when I see her. I’ve never in my life wanted someone like I do Audrey, and it scares the shit out of me. She’s warm and slyly funny and so smart it’s a little intimidating. She can talk to anyone about anything. I heard her talking to Ned about football (she’s a Dallas Cowboys fan, which is almost a deal breaker, but I’ll survive) and to Greta about her season tickets to the symphony. When she’s in business consultant mode, I sit and marvel at her confidence and intelligence and hope that one day she’ll see something in me beyond a one-night stand.
For now, though, I’m focused on doing my job and am trying to be satisfied with grabbing a few minutes of conversation in the break room with Audrey and Willa before the workday officially starts. And laughter. Mostly laughter. Willa is involved, after all. At the end of the day, I find myself in Greta’s office, going over my department and my daily progress with my sister. I keep expecting Greta to try to take over the project, to lose faith in my abilities and decide she can do a better job herself. But she never does, and has never even hinted at the idea. She listens to me, tells me what I’m doing well (a lot!), gives suggestions in the areas I’m struggling in (it’s a lot, too, but decreasing by the day), and lets me get on with my job.
Inevitably, Audrey and Willa find their way to Greta’s office, too, and we sit around and talk business until someone suggests grabbing dinner or, if it’s been a hectic day, drinks. OK, the someone in this scenario is usually me or Willa.
The first time Willa suggested drinks, I fully expected Greta to beg off because of more work or a late Pilates class. Instead, she reached into her bottom drawer, pulled out an opened bottle of Maker’s Mark, and thunked it on the desk. The three of us stared at her for a beat.
“Are you all going to gape at me or get your mugs?” she asked.
“I don’t suppose you have an IPA in there, do you?” I asked.
“It’s not a cooler, Toni, it’s a drawer.”
Willa snorted and Greta’s deadpan gaze shifted to her.
Willa couldn’t hold back her grin. “Sorry, that was just really funny.”
“Imagine if I was trying to be funny,” Greta said with a straight face.
I knew my sister well enough, though, to see the smallest of cracks in her facade, a softening around her mouth and a twinkle in her eyes.
“Oh, I’ll crack you eventually,” Willa said.
“You can certainly try,” Greta replied.
“I’ll get the mugs,” Audrey said.
“I’ll come with you,” I said.
When we were in the hall and well out of earshot, I stage whispered to Audrey, “Were our sisters just flirting with each other?”
“They were.”
“On purpose ?” I squeaked.
Audrey laughed. “God, no.”
When we returned, Willa said, “Greta has agreed to sing karaoke tonight at the Dew Drop Inn.”
“I have done no such thing,” Greta said.
“Greta does have a nice voice,” I offered.
Greta shot me a look that made her orange-rimmed irises almost glow. I’d been on the receiving end of that expression my entire life and it was still terrifying.
“Or she used to,” I added hastily. “I’m sure she totally sucks now.”
“You’re digging a larger hole every time you open your mouth,” Greta said.
“Hit me,” I said, shoving my mug in her face. “We could go to Dewey’s and not sing,” I offer.
Audrey grimaces.
“Afraid you might run into Shae with an E?” I ask.
“Yes,” Willa says. “I’m having to do all the errands because she’s afraid of running into her.”
“Willa,” Audrey says sharply.
“Sorry.” Willa, for the first time I’ve known her, looks chastened.
“Is she still texting you all the time?” I ask.
“Yes, but not as often or as…fervently,” she says. “I’m not going to the places I might run into her because I don’t want to remind her about me.”
“How could she forget you?” I ask.
“Oh, I’m sure she’s found someone to distract her. She usually does.”
“Is this your ex?” Greta asks.
Audrey nods. “Yes.”
“You should consider getting a restraining order,” Greta says.
“God no,” Audrey says. “That would make everything worse, believe me.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying, too, Greta. Shae’s not going to give up,” Willa says. “As soon as she gets tired of her latest side piece she’ll come running back.”
“I’m going to have to talk to her eventually,” Audrey says, “and I will. I’ve been trying to map out a conversation that allows her to break up with me.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Willa says.
“ You left,” I say. “You’re broken up. Period. She should respect that.”
“But your ex is a narcissist and needs to save face,” Greta sums up.
“Precisely,” Audrey says.
“That’s fucked up,” I say.
“Extremely,” Willa agrees.
“Thank you all for your concern, but this is my problem and I’ll deal with it my way, and in my own time,” Audrey says.
Greta nods once and changes the subject. “So, what are you two doing for Christmas? Going home to Texas?”
“No,” Audrey says. “I try to avoid going home as much as possible.” Willa gives Audrey a sharp look. “We both do. My mother suddenly found Jesus after she discovered I liked girls. She kicked me out of the house.”
“She kicked us out of the house,” Willa said.
“No, she kicked me out. You stood by me. She’d take you back in a heartbeat, even now. You were always her favorite.”
“Don’t remind me. We’re a package deal. Always have been, always will be.”
Audrey and Willa look at each other with such affection my heart squeezes in my chest. I glance at Greta, whose expression is as inscrutable as always, though she’s watching them closely. She catches me watching her and looks caught out for a split second, before smiling warmly at me.
“Tell me, what’s Christmas at the Giordani household like?” Willa asks.
“You know, your typical Christmas with a bit of hippy stuff thrown in,” I say.
“Such as?” Audrey asks.
“All our ornaments are handmade,” I say. “We each make an ornament on Christmas Eve that represents our past year.”
“Toni’s cheated every year by attaching a ribbon to a pinecone and calling it a day,” Greta says.
“The great outdoors,” I say, holding out my mug to Greta for another shot.
Greta shakes her head as she pours. “She did a river rock once.”
“Yeah, it was a bitch hammering a hole in that for the ribbon,” I say. “Never again.”
“You know you could have just glued a ribbon to it and been done,” Greta says.
I stop with my mug halfway to my mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I was doing it?”
“Mom wouldn’t let me. She said, It’s the most effort Toni’s put into this in years. Leave her to it. ”
“Do you hear that, ladies? How my family treats me?”
“Sounds wonderful to us,” Willa says.
“What are your Christmas traditions?” Greta asks.
“We put up our tree and decorations the day after Thanksgiving, as y’all saw, and play Christmas songs for six weeks, at least,” Audrey says.
“We chop our tree down a couple of days before Christmas Eve,” I say.
“You chop your tree down?” Audrey says.
“We do. Then drink hot chocolate or hot apple cider in the little tree farm cafe after,” I say.
“Oh my God it sounds like a Hallmark movie,” Willa says. “Audrey and I have always thought about doing that but never have. We have a fake tree.”
“OK, that’s just blasphemy,” I say.
“Who wants to fight that traffic to the mountains?” Audrey says.
“Don’t tell me you buy a pine-scented candle to make up for it,” I say.
“Yes, I do. And I buy enough pine-scented candles to last the year because I love the scent,” Audrey says.
“But not enough to go hiking and smell it naturally,” I tease.
“Why would I when I can get it at home while drinking a glass of wine?”
“She makes an excellent point,” Willa says.
“What about food? You probably make something super Texan like chicken enchiladas,” I say. “Speaking of, I’m starving.”
“You’re always hungry,” Greta says.
“Turkey and dressing and all the fixings,” Willa says.
“But that’s Thanksgiving dinner,” I say.
“We never really had Thanksgiving dinner so the first time we had it we decided we would have it for every holiday,” Audrey says.
“Even fourth of July?” Greta asks.
“Actually, yes,” Willa says.
“Seriously?” Greta and I say together. We look at each other in astonishment.
“Yep.”
“Hang on, you never had Thanksgiving dinner growing up?” I ask.
“Our mother is a terrible cook,” Willa says.
“So she found seven recipes that she could cook and we liked and that’s what she made. Every day for eighteen years,” Audrey says. “Thursday was tuna casserole so by God that’s what we were having on Thanksgiving.”
Greta and I look at the sisters in horror. “Tuna casserole?” I say. “I’ve never known anyone who’s eaten tuna casserole.”
“I’ll never eat it again, that’s for sure,” Willa says, downing her bourbon. She holds out the mug. “Hit me with another shot of whiskey. Audrey, you’re driving home.”
“I figured,” Audrey says.
“Technically it’s bourbon,” Greta says.
Willa rolls her eyes.
I hold out my mug to Greta. “You can drive me home, too.”
“I figured,” Greta says.
“I need to say something,” Willa says, slurring only slightly.
“I figured this was coming, too,” Audrey says, a wry smile on her face.
“What?” I ask.
“Willa is a very affectionate drunk,” Audrey says.
“There are worse things to be,” Willa says. “So, I tell my friends I love them when I’m drunk. It’s not a crime .”
“Are we friends?” Greta asks, deadpan.
“Yes, we are,” Willa says. She points at Greta and circles her finger around her face. “I see through that ice queen facade, by the way.”
Greta raises an eyebrow and Willa stares at her for a moment, before turning to me and Audrey.
“It’s not all the time that Audrey and I like each other’s friends and here we are, two sets of sisters”—she looks back at Greta—“all becoming friends . Cheers!” Willa holds up her mug.
We all clink our mugs together and drink.