The Best Of Both Worlds. Elissa Ambrose
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of need. Did you want him to use someone else?”
Becky sighed with frustration. “Jordan did turn to someone else, or have you forgotten that already?”
“You mean that shiksa? He’ll get tired of her, mark my words. He’ll come back when he comes to his senses. What was her name again, Bambi?”
“Barbie, Ma, and I wish you wouldn’t use that word.”
“What, shiksa? You’re worried you might insult her? Next you’ll be saying she’s a wonderful woman and if circumstances were different, the two of you could be friends. What kind of wife makes friends with the husband’s mistress? What’s wrong with you?”
Becky gritted her teeth. “I’m not the one at fault here. Nothing’s wrong with me.” Nothing except that she was unmarried, pregnant and unemployed. “Why can’t you ever take my side? After Jordan and I separated, I’m surprised you asked me, not him, to move in with you.”
“Calm down. You don’t have to make a scene. All I’m saying is that men don’t leave. Women let them go.”
“And daughters don’t leave, either,” Becky retorted. “Mothers drive them away.” She pushed away from the table. “I’m going for a walk.” She stood up and gave her sister-in-law a warm squeeze on her shoulder. “Mazel tov, Hannah. I’m so happy for you and David. But I have to warn you, you’re going to need all the luck you can get to survive in this family.”
“Where are you going?” Gertie demanded. “In this weather you want to go for a walk? Aaron, do something!”
“Listen to your mother,” Aaron said.
Bubbe looked up at Becky. “Eat something, bubeleh. At least have some soup. I made it just for you. Chicken soup with no chicken, the way you like it.”
“I’m sorry, Bubbe. I’m sure it’s delicious, but I’m just not hungry.” She gave her grandmother a peck on the cheek, then whirled around to face her mother. To heck with softening the blow. Bombs away! “Oh, I forgot to mention that I was fired. And there’s one other thing. I’m in the family way.”
“I realize it’s only the first week in December,” Eleanor said, “but this is Connecticut, for pity’s sake. It’s supposed to snow. Why does the town always go into a tizzy at the first sign of a flake? Schools close, roads back up and people crowd into grocery stores to wait at the checkout for hours, convinced that if they don’t stock up they’ll perish.”
Carter sat at one end of the long mahogany table, facing his mother. At the center of the table was a spray of orchids in a Baccarat crystal vase. At each end, arranged in a formal place setting were Eleanor’s sterling silver, her Royal Worcester dinnerware and a crystal wineglass. It’s just the two of us, he thought, yet she sets the table as though she was expecting the queen of England. But even when his father was alive, it had been this way. Carter suspected she dined like this even when she was alone.
“It’s the mentality of the masses,” she continued. “They always cause such havoc whenever the slightest thing goes wrong. Is that why you’re so late?”
“Excuse me?”
“The traffic, Carter. I’m talking about the traffic.”
“There was no traffic, Mother. I’m late because I gave Becky Roth a lift home.”
She drew her lips into a tight curl. “Oh, Rebecca. Yes, I heard she was back in Middlewood, living with her parents. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her or her people. I understand that her brother Daniel bought his own pharmacy. I’m sure he’ll do well—but those people always do, don’t they?”
“His name is David. And he and his people are fine.”
“You needn’t take that tone. You know what I mean.” She took a sip of her wine. “You haven’t touched your coq au vin. Should I ask Martine to prepare something else? You haven’t met my new housekeeper, have you? I think I’ll keep this one. She’s a real gem.”
You mean you hope she doesn’t quit like all the others before her, Carter thought. He put down his fork and stared at his plate. “The chicken is fine. I’m just not hungry.”
His mother continued speaking, but Carter barely heard her words. Yet it wasn’t his mother who was the cause of his distraction. At the moment the only person on his mind was Becky. She was acting as if he’d been responsible for what had happened that night three months ago. Hell, she’d known what she was doing—she was twenty-seven, not some blushing schoolgirl. Okay, so maybe afterward he’d been a jerk, but he’d apologized for his crude remark, hadn’t he?
“She wants you to call her.”
Carter looked back at his mother. “Excuse me?” he asked again.
“You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve been saying. I said that Wendy called. She wanted to know when you’d be back.” Eleanor took another sip of her wine. “This is a 1976 Chateau d’Yquem, in case you’re interested. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”
Carter regarded her with suspicion. “What special occasion?”
“I’m celebrating your homecoming. That and the New Zealand job. Can’t a mother show pride in her son? As much as I hate to see you gone for two years, I know what this project means to you. You’ll finally be made a full partner, something you’ve wanted for a long time. Anyway, I can come down at Christmas to visit, if you’d like. It’s summer then, isn’t it? I’ll even stay the whole season.”
Good Lord, was there nowhere he could go to escape her? “The partnership is not the primary reason why I’m going,” he said curtly. He immediately regretted his tone. Eleanor was just being Eleanor. After thirty-two years he should be used to the way she tried to run his life—and the lives of everyone around her.
But either the insult had evaded her or she had chosen to ignore it. “Of course it’s not the main reason,” she said. “I know how much you enjoy your work. But you have to admit, the prestige that goes along with being a full partner is a definite plus.”
“Tell me something, how many country clubs are there in Middlewood? And what’s the sense of joining if I’m never here?” He was sorry he’d told her about the trip in the first place. He should have known she’d zero in on the partnership. Even though the promotion wasn’t contingent on his going to New Zealand, it was true that the trip would cement it. He removed his napkin from his lap and tossed it onto the table. “I should go home. It’s getting late and I still haven’t finished unpacking.”
Eleanor looked up at the grandfather clock behind him. “But it’s still early! What about dessert? We’re having your favorite, crème caramel, in honor of your return.”
“I’m sorry, Mother, but I’m tired and I have a lot to do tonight. But thank Martine for me, will you?” After unpacking, he wanted to review his notes on the Denver project. The school for the performing arts was small potatoes compared to the New Zealand job, but it was coming up fast. Even though tomorrow was Saturday, he and Mike Walters, one of the firm’s two senior partners, were meeting in the morning to go over the plans.
“I insist that you stay, Carter.” Once again she glanced at the clock.
And once again Carter eyed her with mistrust. “What is it, Mother? Are you expecting someone?”
“Promise me you won’t get angry. I invited Wendy for coffee. She happened to be in town visiting her parents, and I thought that inviting her would be the decent thing to do.”
“Right. She happened to be in town.” He stood up and headed toward the hallway, then abruptly turned around. “The decent thing to do? Now that’s almost funny. I don’t think Wendy would recognize decency if it slapped her in the face. I’m going home. Make my apologies for me, will you?”
“Come back here!” Eleanor called after him, a note of panic