A Little Holiday Temptation. Janice Sims
the first time I’ve ever been paid in kisses for my work. Thank you, Nikki.”
With Nikki’s portrait, Ana had drawn all four children who had attended the party with their parents. Not to be outdone, Teresa asked sweetly, “Would you draw my baby now?”
Julianna immediately took umbrage with being called a baby. “Mother, I’m not a baby!”
“You’re my baby, and always will be. Get used to it,” Teresa returned. “Now sit down and let Ana draw you. It’s not every day that you get to have your picture drawn by an artist of her caliber.” She smiled at Ana. “Don’t you dare forget to phone and tell me when and where your show is going to take place.”
“I won’t,” Ana promised. She met Julianna’s gaze.
Julianna grinned and sat down. Then she crossed her eyes. “Will this do?”
Ana laughed. “Sure if that’s how you want to be remembered.”
Julianna uncrossed her eyes and gave Ana a genuine smile. “You’re sneaky. I like that.”
The men wandered over and stood admiring the sketch as it formed on Ana’s pad. Leo joked, “Give her horns. I swear she’s a little devil sometimes.”
Teresa playfully hit Leo on the backside. “If anyone’s a little devil in this family, it’s you.”
Erik stood back and watched Ana, how easily she was handling being the center of attention even though she insisted she was shy. Whether it was on the runway or in a room full of children, she always seemed comfortable in her own skin to him.
When Ana finished the portrait Julianna held it in her hands, admiring it. “You even managed to make me pretty,” she said in awe.
“I just drew what I saw,” Ana said truthfully.
Teresa took the drawing from Julianna. “This is going in a place of honor.” She bent and kissed Ana on the cheek. “Thank you, Ana.” She had to wipe away a tear.
Leo, feeling things were getting maudlin, bellowed, “The night’s still young. Who’s up for some virtual golf?”
The men were all for that, and once again the guests were divided by sex with the men heading downstairs to the finished basement where Leo’s entertainment center was set up.
Teresa led the women to the kitchen where they indulged in coffee and delicious desserts the caterer had provided for the party. The children were in their own special heaven in the den playing video games.
Ana sat between two women in their thirties, one African-American, the other a blonde with dark roots who kept gazing at Ana as if she wanted to ask her something but couldn’t muster up the nerve to do so. Ana smiled at her and said, “Your husband is the plant’s manager, right?”
They’d all introduced themselves earlier. Ana recalled her husband—a tall, heavyset fellow with a ruddy complexion—was very tender with their son who looked about three.
“Yeah, Ben,” said the woman. “And I’m Sasha.”
“Your son’s so sweet. I have a niece his age. She lives in Italy. I miss her so much.”
“What’s her name?”
“Ari…Ariana,” said Ana. “Now she has a baby brother and she’s having a hard time getting used to him. She told her mom to take him back to the hospital and trade him in for a puppy.”
The other women who had been listening to their conversation laughed.
“Yes, older kids do sometimes take a while to get used to a new addition,” Teresa said after swallowing a mouthful of pecan pie. “When Julianna was three months old Leo, Jr. once wrapped her in a blanket and left her on a neighbor’s doorstep. Luckily we were living in a close-knit neighborhood at that time, and the neighbors saw him do it and immediately phoned me. He only got away with it because Leo was at work and I was in the shower. Of course when Leo, Jr. got older he absolutely loved his sister and doted on her. Or maybe it was guilt that made him so protective of her later on.” She laughed, remembering her son fondly. “Julianna adored him from birth. She would follow him around like a lost puppy looking for a scrap of food.”
Ana supposed the woman who went and pulled Teresa into her arms for a firm hug was an old friend. A sympathetic and knowing look passed between them and the woman said, “He adored her. You could see it every time you saw them together.”
“Yes,” another woman agreed.
Soon others were relating Leo, Jr. stories. It was obvious to Ana that the employees of Barone Shoes were more than employees to the Barones, they were old friends. It made her feel happy that Leo had decided not to sell the company after all.
* * *
On Sunday Ana and Erik got back to the city in the early afternoon. After dropping Ana off at her loft and making plans to meet for dinner later, Erik continued on to his apartment.
When Erik walked into this apartment, bags in hand, he dropped them in the foyer and walked back to the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge. After drinking quickly he turned and went into the home office. The blinking light of the answering machine on the desk was like a beacon to him. Only his friends and family used his home phone number. Business calls went straight to his cell phone. He liked keeping them separate because on weekends, he ignored the office. He would never, however, ignore his friends and family.
He listened to the first message. It was his father, John. He began with a tired sigh, so Erik instinctively knew the message would be about his grandmother, Drusilla. No one could get under his father’s skin quite like his grandmother. “Hey, son, your grandmother took another tumble today. She’s so hardheaded. We keep telling her to use her cane but she insists she doesn’t need it every day, just when, and these are her words, ‘I’m feeling wobbly.’” John sighed heavily again. “It’s Friday night and they’re keeping her in the hospital overnight for observation. A fall can be dangerous for an eighty-two-year-old.”
Let her be all right, Erik prayed as he continued listening.
“No need to come home, though,” his father said. “She’s fine. It’s my nerves that are frayed.” He laughed. “Thank God for Izzie. She remained calm and handled everything with her usual quiet efficiency.” Izzie was Isobel, Erik’s stepmother. She and his father had been married for three years and still behaved like newlyweds. Erik loved and admired her for how happy she’d made his father, who deserved a little happiness after all the heartache he’d experienced when Mari had left him for a French choreographer.
He dialed the house in New Haven, Connecticut and waited. Isobel answered with, “Hi, sweetie. I hope John’s message didn’t upset you. Dru’s back home and is doing well. How’re you?”
Erik smiled. Isobel rarely answered with hello. She anticipated your needs and got right into the conversation. “I’m fine, Mom, and how are you?” Both he and Belana referred to Isobel as “Mom.” They’d known her for years before she and their father had fallen in love and gotten married. She was the mother of one of Belana’s best friends, Elle, and consequently they were part of the same social circle. What’s more, Isobel, as far as Belana and Erik were concerned, had earned the title of “Mom” since she loved them like her own even though they were not related by blood.
He could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Just great. We’re all sitting around the kitchen table having lunch. Would you like to speak with your father or Drusilla?”
“Put Her Majesty on, please.”
When Drusilla got on the phone he could hear her clearing her throat. “Where are you that you can’t come see about your poor old grandmother?”
“Who would that be?” Erik asked, “Because you are apparently as young and spry as ever! I’m told you don’t think you need to use your cane anymore. Is that right?”
“It makes