19. Dani #2
I stumble. My knees give out, because no, I didn’t use those Pilates classes my mom pointedly gifted me for Christmas. Then I fall right over the side of the big stone porch into the snow-covered bushes.
“Hi!” I tell them as Graham and his stepfather rush to fish me out of the snowy bushes.
“Just leave it—what is wrong with you?” Frank hisses at Graham as they rush to help me up.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” I’m embarrassed as I try to extricate myself from the bushes.
Aurora’s mouth hangs open.
“Don’t worry,” I call up to her. “You can go ahead and laugh.” I brush at the snow clinging to my sweater. “Whoo!”
“Dani, I…” Graham hovers. “I don’t think you should be standing.”
“Get her inside. She probably broke something,” Frank snaps. “Call an ambulance.”
“Wow, an ambulance, Frank. Why don’t we overreact a little bit more?” Aurora says. “Maybe we should just go ahead and dig her grave in the backyard. Plan the funeral right now.”
“Whoa, whoa! I’m good.” I wave them off. “Don’t mind me. I sit all day long, and my body just naturally wants to make this pose.”
“Come inside.” His mother ushers me in.
“Just let me grab the food.”
“You brought food?”
“And my granny made her famous punch. I just have to add the fruit and the alcohol. Do you want me to take off my shoes? I think I’m melting snow all over your—wow!”
Even Lulu is silent as we gaze around the cabin.
Cabin is an understatement. This is like a luxury lodge. There’s a giant stone fireplace in the great room, with balconies overlooking it.
“Is this a hotel?” I ask softly.
“Isn’t it amazing?! I’m speechless every time I come here.” Claire rushes downstairs and gives me a hug. “I want to hear all about your wedding planning. I’m a little bit of an unpaid amateur wedding planner myself.”
“Weren’t you press-ganged into it?”
Graham scowls.
“He’s in a bad mood,” I tell her in a rush. “I’m the reason we’re late. Had to work.”
“This is why I didn’t go into private equity.” Claire hugs Graham.
“Let me put up some of this food. I have a baked brie that needs to go into the oven.” I follow Claire into the kitchen.
“Graham, why don’t you eat your sandwich? There’s a bottle of scotch in that bag too. I don’t need all of it for the punch. I don’t think you’re going to like this baked-brie dish. It’s got fruit in it, and I know how you feel about sweet stuff.”
“It’s truly the bane of my existence.” Aurora smiles at me and leans over the counter. “He acted like I was poisoning him the first time I gave him ice cream.”
“I don’t think I’d survive summer in NYC without ice cream.” Claire shakes her head.
“It’s easier when you have a penthouse, I guess,” I quip.
I start unpacking the bag, turning on the oven, laying out the stuff to make the punch.
“Wow, you’re so… hostess-y!” his mom marvels.
“I just like food.”
“So do I. Let’s be best friends!” Aurora hugs me. “Also, this is my formal apology. I was not nice at brunch.”
“I was drunk,” I remind her, “so I think we’re even.”
“I’ve truly never seen anyone morning-drink like that. Not even my mom.” Aurora opens a bottle of wine.
“You should meet my granny,” I joke.
“I hope to make her acquaintance. Also, you have to let me finish my apology, because I have a whole speech written out. Graham, drink your scotch and don’t interrupt me. Aren’t I a great mom?”
In my sleep-deprived and kidnapped state, I didn’t register that she has that cool, witchy, alt vibe that I wish I had the chutzpah to pull off.
Aurora leans on the countertop as I glug alcohol into the crystal Tiffany’s punch bowl I brought.
“See, I always wanted to have the house that all the teens in the neighborhood would hang out at. We have a pool and a rec room and games. Except Graham never invited anyone over—ever. Except for you. You’re the first!
Ta-da! Congratulations! And I was worried.
I was afraid that you’d hate me and never come over again, but you’re here!
Graham, this is a big moment for you. Your first friend.
Your first sleepover. Your first girlfriend. ”
“Lotta pressure.” I grimace. “Graham, hand me that rum.”
Aurora pulls Graham into a hug. “I didn’t want to lose my children to their in-laws.”
“No worries of that from me.” I make a face as I throw the baked-brie dish into the oven. “I already spend too much of my time with my family.”
“I brought some snacks too,” his mom says. “Cheddar and Triscuits.”
Graham peers over her shoulder at the box.
“Oh lord, the expiration date police.” Aurora tries to shield the box.
“It expired a year ago, Mom.”
“I think it’s still good.” His mom rolls her eyes at me. “Graham’s very concerned with the right and wrong way to do things.”
Graham makes a disgusted noise.
“I’m not a hoarder. I’m an environmentalist.” She pats his arm.
“Those dates are suggestions.” I stick my tongue out at him.
“Yeah, Graham. See? Dani’s smart, and she’s on my team.”
“When you all get sick, I’m not visiting you at the hospital.” He picks up his glass.
“That’s why we have alcohol.” I give the punch bowl a stir. “So, who wants punch? My granny claims she got the recipe from Andy Warhol, but I think she’s lying and she got it from a home and garden magazine.”
Graham’s siblings clamber around the oversized island as I pass out punch.
“So, when is Uncle Gino arriving?” I ask them. “I hear he’s got some spicy takes.”
“He and my stepson are coming in tomorrow,” Frank informs me.
“But now we have hot dogs and marshmallows,” his mom offers. “We’re pulling out all the stops.”
“Dani brought bougie food, Mom,” Bridget says with a sigh. “We’re better than hot dogs now.”
“Caviar!” Hannah screams, digging in the insulated bag. “You brought a whole sack of caviar!”
“It was on sale at Costco,” I warn her, “so don’t get too excited. I also have potato chips and sour cream and hard-boiled eggs. We can make fancy nachos.”
“Let’s sit in front of the fire.” Aurora shoos everyone out of the kitchen. “Where’s my big blanket?”
“You need to use the mother-of-pearl spoons,” Ryan’s trying to explain to his father.
“Oh my gosh, you have, like, a cooler full of lobster!” Bridget opens one of the containers.
“We should give them a little warm-up.”
“Bridgie, where are those trays?” Hannah digs in the cabinet under the sink.
“And I have truffle butter. Also, there’s oysters around here somewhere.” I pour myself another cup of punch.
“Man, that stuff is dangerous, isn’t it?” Ryan jokes. “Graham, you want in on this?”
“God forbid you get some fruit in your diet.” I hiccup and poke at a booze-soaked orange slice with my tongue. “Here’s your scotch.”
“Paris,” Graham hisses in my ear as we all troop out into the great room to camp in front of the fire.
I elbow him. “The safe word is for me, not you.”
“Then say it. Say it, so we can leave.”
Max and Sean feed Lulu potato chips while Claire shows me her wedding Pinterest.
“You need to do orchids. Have them hanging down from the chandelier.” I show her my dream-wedding Pinterest page. “Like with crystals—they just drip down. In that renovated factory, it’s going to look amazing.”
“But that’s your idea,” she cries. “For your wedding—I can’t steal it.”
“Who knows if that’ll ever happen? I’ll have to meet Prince Charming first.”
Graham seems to materialize out of nowhere.
I almost fall off the couch in surprise.
God, I forgot how strong Gran’s punch is.
He’s scowling at me.
“Right—cover blown. I’m here on a secret mission. I mean—” I slur.
“She’s just trying to give me a strong hint that she wants a ring in the very near future,” Graham says smoothly.
“Wow, already wedding planning?” His mom’s thin black eyebrows arch up. “That’s fast.”
“Ryan and Claire were dating since freshman year of high school,” Hannah reminds her.
“Graham’s old now,” Max says from where he and his brother are chowing down on the oysters Rockefeller that we’ve been broiling in the fireplace.
“Just the ol’ biological clock ticking.” I pat my stomach. “I need to get started. We’re going to have seven kids, and they will all have names that start with the letter G.”
I can feel Graham being like shut up, shut up, shut up beside me, but I’m too drunk to stop.
“Seven kids?” Ryan’s eyes widen.
“That’s a lot of kids,” Frank says slowly.
“Some of them will need to be twins, and they’ll be back to back to back. I have birthing hips—it’s been a perpetual complaint of my mother’s—so I’ll be good.”
“You could have your wedding here.” Bridget perks up.
“Oh no.” I laugh. “My family is not coming to New Jersey for a wedding. It has to be at St. Augustine’s on Waverly and Ninth, with the reception at the Fairmont Langley Hotel on Park Avenue. Otherwise, I’m disowned.”
“When are you proposing, Graham?” His sisters giggle. “You guys are so cute together.”
“Maybe now that you’re his girlfriend, you can convince him to come hang out more often.” Ryan leans back on the sofa.
Graham seems tense. I know he didn’t want to be my boyfriend. Definitely doesn’t want me hanging around his family like we have a future together.
I take another long sip of punch.
“I don’t think my job will let me leave early every Friday.”
“Don’t you do summer Fridays?” Claire asks.
“Yeah, but my parents always want to go to the Hamptons or a friend’s yacht they want to show off.”
“Wow, the Hamptons!”
“Um—you have friends with yachts? Are they looking for other friends?” Hannah asks.
“Graham has friends with yachts,” I remind them.
“No, I don’t.”
“Uh-huh! Your brother Spencer has a yacht,” I slur at him.
Frank tenses up.
Change the subject, change the subject. Guess all those forced etiquette classes pay off. Thanks, Mom.
“So I assume there’s no yachting tomorrow. However, I’m hoping there’s no strenuous hiking. If there is, that’s fine. I make a mean bourbon hot chocolate, and that goes great with traipsing through the snow.”
“You’re going to need it, because we are a camping family.” Aurora snickers.