our years of separation I counted him as a friend. I didn’t lie to my friends.
I ushered him inside. He walked to the center of my living room and stared at the table. A cold breeze tickled the back of my neck, and I felt my skin prickle with goose bumps. For a second I thought the temperature had dropped for no reason, but that of course was not the case. I had been so overwhelmed by the surprise of Jason that I had forgotten to close the door behind him. I turned to do so, but my doorway was no longer empty. Framed by the streetlight was a character from the musical Hair. At least that’s how she appeared to me. Her mountains of untamed curls fell to her waist and her rainbow rayon skirt grazed her ankles, revealing Birkenstocks and pink toenails.
“I’m Amelia,” she said, not waiting for my question, and without warning pulled me into a hearty embrace and pressed her lips against my cheek. “Thank you so much for inviting us into your home!” she gushed, then broke away and skipped to where Jason stood. She pressed herself into his back and encircled his waist with her arms. “Whoa, this is one of the fanciest séance tables I have ever seen! Who are we trying to summon? Rockefeller?”
“My sister helped me put this together.”
“Leah,” Jason said and I saw the spark of memory twinkle in his eyes. He had never met Leah, but had heard about her from both me and Dena. More to the point, he had heard tales of her devious offspring.
I closed the door and led them to the food and wine. Before I had even finished pouring the first glass the doorbell rang again. I excused myself and went to welcome my next visitor. This time it was Venus, Scott and Kane. Venus was boldly ignoring the weather by going coatless in a knee-length pencil skirt and an asymmetrical sleeveless top made of a material that resembled crinkly paper. Her hair was pulled into the same low ponytail she had worn on our first meeting. Kane was less adventurous in chinos and a wool sweater that had the look of being handmade. Scott looked like Scott—well dressed, hair purposely and attractively disheveled, an impish smile. Later I would notice that he only aimed his smile in my direction when Venus had her back to him.
It was Venus who said hello first as she stepped inside, letting her massive presence ooze into every corner of my home until the room was so full of her that I wondered if there would be enough space for the rest of us. She raised her arms, her fingertips touching like a ballerina preparing to dance. She then gracefully spread her arms wide, inhaling deeply. But that’s where the dance ended. She coughed and brought her hands to her flat chest. “This is all wrong.”
“What’s wrong?” Kane asked anxiously. But Scott didn’t seem perturbed by her announcement at all. If anything he looked bored.
“The arrangement of the furniture,” she explained. “The feng shui—it’s not right.”
“My mother never decorated in accordance to feng shui,” Kane snapped. “And she still felt the spirits.”
“But she didn’t see them,” Venus said evenly. “She didn’t know how to direct the energy of the house.”
“There were reasons why the spirits couldn’t come to my mother.” Kane stepped in front of Venus, invading her personal space. “But those reasons had nothing to do with interior decorating. Feng shui means nothing to those in the world beyond.”
A light laugh escaped her lips. “Kane,” she said, cupping his chin with her workmanlike hand. “You are not an expert in these matters. You can barely summon your own dog, let alone a ghost.”
Kane didn’t move and for a second I thought that Venus might be in danger. I shot a questioning look at Scott. He no longer looked bored, but neither did he seem to have any intention of intervening.
But then Kane stepped back, just out of her reach. They continued to stare at one another, not speaking. From the dining room I could hear Amelia’s cheerful chatter, and then she rushed into the room, her eyes dancing with a vivacious energy that seemed incongruous with the mood of the other guests. “Hello!” Her salutation echoed in the silent room. Then she went around to each of the three new arrivals and gave Kane and Scott the same hug and kiss she had given me. Kane tolerated this with what appeared to be strained patience, but Scott clearly enjoyed the close female contact and their hug lasted a half a minute too long. It was Amelia who broke away first. She then smiled nervously at Venus. “Did you get a load of that séance table?” she asked, her joviality suddenly seeming a little forced. “Those candles are beeswax, Venus. I haven’t seen anything this fancy since the last time you hosted an event.”
“You weren’t at the last event I hosted,” Venus said.
“No, but I was at the one before that.” She then turned toward the male guests. “Come to the dining room. Enrico outdid himself this time.” She paused right before disappearing back into the dining room and tilted her head in my direction. “Where is Enrico anyway? Did he go out for the perfect wine or something?”
I winced. I hadn’t yet told them that while the food was from Enrico’s restaurant it wasn’t actually made by Enrico. I wasn’t entirely clear on where I stood with Kane, but I was pretty sure that I was on Venus’s shit list. If she found out that Enrico and I had exchanged words she would blame me for his absence, even if I was the one in the right.
But before I could figure out how to address the situation the doorbell rang again. I sent up a quick silent prayer that it was Enrico, but to my disappointment it was a family of three. The man introduced himself as Al and the woman and Goth teenage boy as his wife, Lorna, and son, Zach. Three more names from my place cards.
They were a family, but as far as I could tell the only thing that unified them was proximity. The man was a clean-cut blonde with thinning hair. He wore a polo shirt and chinos and he appeared more resigned than happy to be there. His son was a whole other story. His hair, his clothes, his nails, all colored black. Even his eyes were outlined with a harsh black eyeliner, made all the more dramatic by his white powdered face. Around his neck he wore a velvet ribbon choker, and I was tempted to reach out and see if its unraveling would result in decapitation.
But it was the woman who interested me. Like her husband, she wore chinos and her cotton shirt was a pale pink. Her hair was a graying brown and cut neatly in a style that you would expect to see on the stereotypical suburban homemaker. Totally normal, yet, on her, the outfit, the haircut, even the mild-mannered smile, it all seemed like a costume: her hair too thick for such a neat cut where it should have been long and unruly, her skin too olive for the light-colored clothing, the determination in her eyes too strong to gel with the timid pink of her lip gloss.
But I didn’t say any of that. Instead I just ushered them in and closed the door behind them. Jason reentered the living room, a glass of red wine in his hand. “Looks like almost everybody’s here,” he said. “As soon as Enrico shows up we’ll have ten.”
This was the time to tell them. Venus already suspected something was amiss. I could tell by the way she was looking at me, her stare hinting at an underlying hostility.
I cleared my throat and went to the place card that bore Enrico’s name, fondling it like it had some kind of voodoo power that could call him forth. But of course that didn’t work. “I don’t think Enrico is coming,” I finally said.
“Not coming?” Scott asked. “But hasn’t he already been here? Isn’t he the one who brought the food?”
“Um, no. I ordered the food from his restaurant. See, I talked to him earlier today and he seemed a little…out of sorts.”
“How so?” Venus lowered herself onto my armchair with practiced
