able to picture Ian as a kid, not making a peep, lonely and scared after his parents died, leaving behind everything he knew. My throat tightened.
Jane sighed and took another sip of wine. “Who could believe that after all I showed him he’d end up … here?”
I glanced at the closed door to the den. “Dr. McFarland,” I said carefully, “after losing his parents and, um … moving so much as a kid, maybe Ian just wants a normal life. And just because he didn’t become a doctor doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. He—”
“Dear, I don’t need a lecture on my nephew from someone he met, what … a month ago? Two?”
I bit my tongue. Hard. Wondered when the hell Ian’s phone call would wrap up. God forbid he was called out and left me alone with Jane.
As if answering my silent prayer, Ian emerged from the den. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Callie, would you help me in the kitchen for a minute?”
“Absolutely,” I said, faking a smile. I followed him into the kitchen as Jane got up to once again peruse Ian’s décor.
“Look,” Ian said quietly, “you don’t need to defend me or explain anything or win her undying love. Okay?”
“Well, it’s very hard to listen to this,” I whispered.
“I told you she wouldn’t like you. And she won’t, unless you become a doctor and move to the third world. So can you just try to get along?”
“I am trying, Ian!” He said nothing, just stared at me. “Okay. Fine. I’ll try harder.”
“Thank you,” he said tightly.
We returned to the living room. This time, I made sure to sit next to Ian on the couch.
“So you love it here,” Jane said.
“Yes,” he answered.
“The foliage was incredible on the drive up,” she commented.
Ian glanced quickly at me, then turned to his aunt. “If you want to stay for a few days, we could see the sights. Go hiking, maybe,” he offered, and it might’ve been my sentimental streak, but for a second, I thought I saw a flash of the little guy who’d lost his parents, hoping to find someone to love him.
“You could use my kayak,” I said. Maybe if Jane stayed, she and Ian could have a nice day or two, and her disapproval would ease. “There are so many incredible rivers and lakes up here. It’s really beautiful. Well, we Vermonters think so.” Ian gave me a small, quick smile.
“I won’t have time. I’ll be leaving tonight, in fact,” she said, ignoring both offers. “I’m trying to get Pfizer to donate more antibiotics to our program, and I have a meeting in New York tomorrow.” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully at her nephew. “Want to come? See how the drug companies rape the poor?”
Ian’s face went back to neutral. “I’ll have to pass.”
“Mmm,” she said.
Okay. While it was undeniable that Jane McFarland did great things, she wasn’t the easiest person to like. My left eye started to throb as I listened to her continue with her thinly veiled criticism. Ian just sat there, seemingly unaffected, but the urge to defend him swelled in my heart. I actually had to clamp my lips shut to keep from saying anything.
Dinner was painfully awkward, not to mention nasty … the ravioli tasted like a combination between burnt coffee scrapings and rope. As for the sweet and sour cauliflower … need I say more? It was definitely a culinary “don’t.” Jane was on her fourth attempt to convince Ian to return to medical school so he, like Perfect Alejandro, could follow in her holy work. The thing was, her work was holy, there was no denying that. But she couldn’t seem to accept that Ian didn’t want the same thing.
She didn’t touch the cake I’d baked. I couldn’t blame her for that. Note to self—tofu and chocolate do not a happy marriage make. Sighing, I stirred a spoonful of sugar into my coffee.
“Dear, you should read about what conditions are like for sugarcane workers,” she said, finally addressing me. “Well, that’s condescending of me. Perhaps you already know.”
“I don’t,” I admitted, suppressing a sigh.
“No, I don’t suppose you do,” she murmured. “Most Americans don’t.” Strike 10,006 against Callie/Cassie … she put sugar in her coffee, the ignorant, disgusting American.
And then … and then we heard a little chirp. For a second, I didn’t realize what it was … not until my sister’s voice boomed into our lovely evening.
“Callie! Guess what! I just had sex! It was amazing!”
“Excuse me!” I lunged from the table. Shit! Earlier today, I’d used the push to talk feature, as the walkie-talkie method tended to work better out here by the lake. Alas … oh, alas! … I’d forgotten to turn it off.
“I mean, sure,” Hester continued, “I’ve, you know, felt things. I own a vibrator, after all. But this was much better than anything you can buy online, you know?”
Where was my purse, dammit all to hell? Counter? No. Desk? No! Ah, right, over there by the back door. Hester’s thunderous voice continued to detonate from the depths of my vast orange bag. “Seriously! I thought I was going to end up clinging to the ceiling by my fingernails! I know you said you were doing the vet, and he does seem hot, but listen … I hope he’s half as good as Louis.”
“Holy crap!” I blurted. I jerked open my purse and shoveled through the debris for my phone. Tampon, paperback, picture of Bronte and Josephine, wallet. No phone. Come on!
“Callie? You there? Well, anyway, just wanted to share the big news. I’m screwing a mortician and yes, it really is true. They do it stiffer.” My hand closed around the phone. “Gotta go. I think I’m up for round two! Bye!”
I stabbed the off button. The quiet was deafening … not that I could hear anyway, the way my pulse was roaring in my ears. I returned the phone to my purse and took a breath.
“Guess what?” I said. “My sister has a boyfriend.”
Neither of them said a word. Angie, however, wagged her plumy tail. I was grateful.
Back to the table I went, face flaming. Finished off that glass of wine, oh, yes I did. It was the only friendly thing at the table. “Sorry about that,” I muttered.
“What a lovely family you must have,” Jane said, raising her eyebrow.
“You know what?” I snapped. “They are lovely. I have a great family. We love each other, we accept each other, we don’t sit around once a year talking about how disappointed we are in each other.”
“Callie,” Ian said in a low voice.
I ignored him. “My sister may be a little, well … weird, but she’s a great mother to both her kids. She’d never try to make them feel like they’d let her down.”
“Callie,”
