was waiting for me in his lobby with a large duffle bag and a shopping bag from Macy’s. “What took you so long?” he asked.
“Sorry, I was delayed at the police station,” I said. I hefted the bags. “What the hell do you have in here? How many pairs of shoes are you bringing?”
“Just three,” he replied. “And some sneakers. And a pair of slippers. And some dancing shoes, just in case… ”
“Very funny,” I said. “But really. An iron, a hair dryer, and several books. Is that about right?” I tossed his duffle in the back seat and placed the shopping bag in the trunk area. “I have some cold water, do you want one?”
“No, let’s stop for coffee on the way out of the city. My treat,” he said. “Now, tell me what held you up at the precinct? Some intense questioning by our favorite day of the week?”
“Hardly,” I said. “He wasn’t very friendly, and that asshole Gardner was dogging us, so I could hardly get a private moment with Ty, and then the strangest thing happened.”
“You know, Cassie,” Michael said. “I’m starting to realize that those words are actually pretty commonplace in your life.”
I stopped at an intersection. “Where do you want coffee from, Peet’s or Ahmad’s?”
“Go to Peet’s, it’s easier,” he said. “So, continue, what’s this strange thing?”
“Okay, I’m telling Ty about the card and asking him how I can go about getting it tested—it was a no-go on the PD running tests on it, in case you didn’t guess that already—and he was giving me his usual spiel about me not being a detective and all, and Gardner interrupts to say, ‘Hey Thornton, guess what? Your sister just got arrested in a smash-and-grab robbery.’”
“You don’t have a sister,” Michael said.
“That’s what I’m saying. How strange is it that I’m there asking them to investigate a card from your pretend sister when someone pretending to be my sister shows up downstairs! Isn’t that wild?”
He sniffed while I pulled the car to the curb and jumped out at the coffee shop. I ran inside and returned shortly with two steaming lattes. We sat in the car and sipped them for a few minutes while the windows steamed up.
“No muffins?” he asked.
“Really?” I said. “What do you want?”
“Never mind. I should start watching my weight anyway.”
“No, I’ll go back in. How about a couple of biscotti? They’re not fattening. And anyway, start dieting in January. It’s against the law to start watching your weight in December. It’s not natural. So, biscotti—chocolate or plain?”
“You have to ask?”
“Sorry. One of each. Anything else for the road? How about another coffee to share?” I asked. He nodded.
When I returned we each ate one biscotti, and then I divided the coffee between our two cups. When we were almost done, I said, “Ready to go? Or do you want to do a bathroom run before we get on the highway?”
“Just a minute,” he said. “I want to clarify this. So, you went in to ask Ty about the card from my imaginary sister Kristen, and while you were there, someone came in pretending to be your sister.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how bizarre that sounds?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Oh, and she didn’t just walk in, she was arrested. This sister of mine.”
“What did she say her name was?”
“Giselle. Giselle Carros,” I said. “And no, I’ve never heard that name before. And I don’t believe I have a sister, but I can’t be sure. My mother could have had other children that I don’t know about.”
“So I have a Kristen and you have a Giselle. And we’re off to celebrate Hanukkah in the land of the Pilgrims! Let’s hit the road, my friend. This sounds like a Bing Crosby ‘White Christmas’ show.”
"Maybe more like Chevy Chase's 'Christmas Vacation,' " I said.
"Hey, we should rent that," Michael said. His mood seemed to be improving as we drove up the West Side Highway.
Chapter 3
Michael’s mom lived in a small Cape Cod-style house on a street filled with similar homes, densely but comfortably rubbing up against each other. Yards with swing sets, sleds, and Christmas decorations suggested the presence of children.
“Did you grow up here?” I asked.
“Yep,” Michael said. “See that window, the one near the garage? That’s my room. I used to go out the window, slide down the roof, and climb down the rose trellis to meet my friends at night.”
“Get out,” I said. “You? A bad boy? I don’t believe it. I would’ve thought you were the kind of kid who was studying at his desk every night, then early to bed so he could get up and do his paper route before school.”
“Are you kidding me? I had the record for the most tardies in a single school year. My mother, the sainted Margaret Simone—known to everyone as Peggy, by the way—thought they were going to expel me at one point. All I thought about in high school was wrestling and getting high. And sex, of course. I was a normal teenage boy. I just couldn’t express the fact that I wanted to have sex with the other teenage boys, so I had to pretend to chase the girls.”
“That was tough, huh?”
“Yeah, but you know, a blow job’s a blow job, after all. As long as I wasn’t expected to do anything reciprocal, it worked out. And I was very respectful of their virginity. Ha!” He opened the door. “Come on, let’s go in.”
Peggy was at work when we arrived, but she’d left a large note on the kitchen table with instructions for lunch: Eat soup in fridge. I guess we could handle that.
“What does your mom do?” I asked. We were sitting over steaming bowls of clam chowder, having deposited our bags upstairs and used the facilities while the soup was warming on the stove.
“She’s a baker,” he said. “She took a lot of time off when I was injured, so she’s been working extra to make up for it, picking up some overtime for the holidays.”
“I hope she can have some time off while we’re here,” I said.
“Oh, yeah, she said she will,” he said. “What should we do now? Hey, how about doing what everyone does in the suburbs? Going shopping? There’s nothing like a crowded mall parking lot to put you in the holiday spirit.”
“That sounds perfect. I need to find a gift for my father and something for your mother, and you can help me.”
We cleaned up and headed back down Route 9 to the Natick Mall, where every other non-working person in the greater Boston area had decided to converge that afternoon.
“Drop
