Chapter 4
Amy—Santa’s Crew
Boston
A my Blanchard knew the holidays were going to be a headache this year. She was going to be pulled in so many different directions.
Her overbearing mother would insist Amy spend the holidays with her and her new husband, Lloyd Luttrell.
Amy actually liked Lloyd. He had been her mother’s and Rachael’s divorce lawyer, but when Amy’s mother planned to marry a grifter named Rusty Jacobs, Amy sought Lloyd’s assistance.
She urged Lloyd to speak to her mother about getting Rusty to sign a prenup.
Amy was certain he wouldn’t sign it and would bolt at the suggestion.
It took a few weeks of Rusty trying to sweet-talk the new, lonely divorcée, but Lloyd was relentless, and kept nudging Dorothy to “get those papers signed. It’s for your and Amy’s protection.
” It came as no surprise when Rusty took a powder.
Lloyd was sympathetic. He was a confidant.
Someone to talk to. Spend time with. He nursed her bruised ego.
That’s not to say he didn’t have an ulterior motive, but it was a good motive.
He genuinely cared for Dorothy. The more time they spent together, the more Dorothy appreciated this fine man.
Lloyd was decent, successful, kind, and age-appropriate.
Then there was her dad and his wife, Marilyn. Like her mom and Lloyd, they lived in New Jersey. But Marilyn had adult children and grandchildren who lived in Virginia. Amy thought Marilyn would surely want to spend time with them.
And she couldn’t forget Peter’s family, who lived in Connecticut.
She and Peter lived in Boston. Amy mulled the scenarios in her head.
There were a lot of logistics involved, including arrangements for Gimpy and Blinky, her fittingly named cats.
Then there was the fact that the rest of the world would be traveling at the same time. It was beginning to make her head hurt.
Amy was a scientist, and solving problems was part of her job, but when it came to social functions or simply getting from point A to point B, it could be a problem.
She could recite quantum formulas, but if you asked her what bus she took to work, she would reply, “The one that stops in front of me.” Her navigational skills were nowhere to be found, and often so was Amy.
The year before, she got an invitation to see the Hadron Collider in Geneva.
It was a scientific wonder, splitting atoms and delving into the origin of the universe.
But while she was waiting for her escort, she got in the wrong line and was transported to another attraction several miles away, with a group of non-English-speaking tourists.
Once again, it was Peter to the rescue of the absent-minded professor.
She decided to approach the holiday madness as if she were solving a mathematical problem. She went into their den and rolled the whiteboard out from behind the door and wiped it down. Using the blue marker, she began dividing it into sections:
P ETER’S F AMILY
D AD you’re a science maven. I am sure we can figure it out together.”
Amy appreciated Peter’s level-headed yet lighter approach to things. She pointed to her amateur cartography. “It’s going to be a highway nightmare getting from one place to another.”
“Not if we plan carefully.” Peter took the marker from her hand and approached the board. “Do you know what your mother and father have planned?”
“No.” Amy lowered her gaze.
“So, you’re getting yourself in a tizzy before you know anyone else’s itinerary.” He was patient and correct. “Let’s call your dad now and ask him.”
“I don’t want him to think I’m being nosey.” Amy was on the brink of whining.
“You’re not being nosey. You are being proactive.”
Amy sat up. “Yes. Proactive. Good word.”
Peter couldn’t help but smile at her cherub face. “I tell you what. How about if I call him? Then he won’t think you’re the one being nosey.”
Her eyes brightened. “Really? That would be swell!”
Before she had a chance to change her mind, Peter pulled out his cell and dialed Willie B.’s number. With Frankie and Amy’s fathers having the same name, they decided on a nickname for Amy’s dad from when they were in high school.
“Willie B.! Peter here.” He made sure his tone was upbeat.
Parents don’t normally like to hear from their children’s significant others.
Their parental instincts go immediately to thinking something is wrong.
Before Willie B. had a moment to respond, Peter continued.
“Amy and I are sitting here trying to put holiday plans together.” Peter realized Willie B.
might wonder why Peter was shoehorning himself into a family situation, and quicky continued.
“She’s standing in front of a whiteboard that looks like a schematic of the interstate highway commission.
” Peter chuckled. “Yes, she likes to plan ahead. Not that she won’t get lost along the way.
” He grinned at Amy, who gave him a sideways glance in return. “I’ll put us on speaker.”
“Hey, Daddy!” Amy called out.
“Hey, sugar pie. Getting yourself all flummoxed?”
Amy couldn’t argue. As brilliant as she was, some of the simplest things could throw her off. “I am trying not to.”
Peter smiled at the cute face before him that still had a few blotches of blue. “Do you and Marilyn know what you’re doing for the holidays?”
“Marilyn wants to send her grandkids to Disney World. I told her to leave me out of the plans. I cannot imagine what the Magic Kingdom is like at that time of year.”
“Good point,” Peter remarked.
“And much to my surprise, Marilyn had the same sentiment and said she would send the parents and the kids. By themselves.”
“Sounds like you escaped the fairy-tale nightmare.” Peter laughed.
“Talk about an oxymoron,” Willie B. added. “I didn’t mind doing it once when Amy was little, but now? No way.”
“I’m with you on that.” Peter waited for Willie B. to discuss the rest of the holiday plans.
“Marilyn and I were thinking about going on another cruise. Would you kids mind?”
Amy’s eyes got as big as saucers as she recalled how all of them met.
“The last one was certainly momentous,” Peter added. “For all of us.”
Willie B. continued, “Amy, honey, would you mind if Marilyn and I spent the holidays on the high seas?”
“Not at all!” she squealed. “That would be great for the two of you, and romantic.”
“I thought so, but I didn’t know how you would feel if we weren’t here.”
“Oh, Daddy, whatever makes you happy. Have you discussed this with Marilyn?”
“Yes, and she is all for it.”
“Excellent! Where are you going?”
“We’re going to cruise the Greek Islands.”
“Fantastic! Even more romantic than a singles’ cruise.” Amy giggled, both with delight and relief. “We can make a plan either before or after you get back.”
Peter scribbled Thanksgiving? on a piece of paper. He and Amy had talked about having their own quiet dinner together. No traveling. There would be enough of that in December. Amy nodded.
“Dad? Would you be mad if Peter and I decided to stay home for Thanksgiving? The end of the semester is coming up right behind the holidays, and I know I’ll have a ton of work. I could use the days to get a lot done and give myself a day or two to chill.”
“Honey, that’s perfectly fine with me. I’ll check with Marilyn and see when she’s available, and we can spend a different weekend together. One where the entire country isn’t rushing off for a turkey dinner.”
“Let’s not forget football,” Peter added, thinking how relaxing a few days at home would be welcome. He just had to figure out how to break the news to his family.
Amy stood and stepped in front of the whiteboard. She erased the notes from Boston to New Jersey, and drew a fresh line from Boston to Norwich, Connecticut. Peter gave her the thumbs-up.
“To recap,” Peter said in his best accountant voice, “we’ll be staying home for Thanksgiving. You and Marilyn will be off to the Greek islands for the Christmas and New Year’s holidays. You will speak with Marilyn so the four of us can plan a weekend together. Sound good?”
“Sounds excellent. Thanks, Peter, for helping to streamline the most wonderfully stressful time of the year!”
“And I helped.” Amy was grinning from ear to ear.
“Okay, kids. Time for me to start dinner,” Willie B. announced. “Ever since we met Giovanni, he’s snookered me into watching his cooking demos.”
Amy was over the moon. The cruise had turned everyone’s life around in the best possible way. “What are you working on tonight?”
“Rigatoni Bolognese. Three different kinds of meat: pork, beef, veal. Served with a dollop of whipped ricotta.”
“Sounds delish!” Amy smacked her lips.
“I hope so!” Willie B. replied.
“Talk soon. Love you!” Amy signed off.
“Love you more,” her father said, and ended the call.
Suddenly Amy’s mood shifted.
“What is it?” Peter asked with concern.
“My mother! Yikes! She will have a hissy fit if we don’t do what she wants us to do.”
“Can you talk to Lloyd? He’s come through many times before,” Peter suggested.
Amy twisted her mouth. “I’ll call him to see what my mother has been up to, but I’ll text him first. Just in case she’s hovering.”
Amy tapped out a quick text to Lloyd:
Hi. Do you have a private minute to talk?
A few seconds went by, and he replied:
Everything alright?
Amy answered:
Yes. Want to discuss the holidaze.
Lloyd sent back a smiley face and:
Want to talk now?
Amy hit the phone icon on her mobile.
“Hey, Amy. What’s on your mind?” Lloyd asked. The families stayed in constant contact, usually by text or email. Phone calls were reserved for holidays, birthdays, and special occasions.
“Peter and I are trying to plan, and I wanted to know what you and my mother had going on.”
“Funny you should ask. My daughter moved to South Carolina and is expecting another baby, so it’s going to be difficult for her to travel. Your mother and I discussed going down there, but she was concerned that you’d be offended.”
“Another baby? How wonderful!” Amy exclaimed, then continued. “Offended? How could I be? That’s a wonderful reason to visit them.” This time it was her turn to give the thumbsup. “How about we plan a weekend before the holidays? Say, mid-December before everything spins out of control.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Lloyd replied. “Let me run it past your mother.”
“Oh, don’t tell her we spoke. You know how paranoid she can get.”
Lloyd chuckled. “Leave it to me. I’ll suggest we get tickets for Radio City and invite you and Peter, and we can have our holiday before the holiday.”
“You’re a genius,” Amy said. “My dad is going to Greece, so Peter and I were going to plan a weekend with them, so maybe we can combine our merrymaking?”
“Excellent idea, Amy. No wonder they call you a whiz kid.”