He extended the handle from her wheelie bag and held the door open for her. “Off we go then. I left my bag down in the lobby.”
Claire picked up her handbag and took one last, longing look into the apartment. What she wouldn’t give to spend the next two weeks under the covers in that bed.
“Keep it moving, Chi-Chi,” Ben joked, giving her a little shove out into the hallway.
“Oh, very well. Here goes nothing,” she said as she pushed the elevator button.
They took the train from Penn Station to Philadelphia, then rented a car to drive an hour west to the rural town where Ben had grown up. The roads had been plowed, but the snowstorm a few days before had been pretty heavy, so most of the trees and surrounding ground were still covered in a blanket of white.
“It’s so beautiful here.” Claire admired the stark grace of the passing trees as they wended their way the last few miles into the countryside.
“So boring, you mean. Growing up here was about as exciting as watching paint dry.”
“No! I love it. I guess I’m a country mouse at heart. You know that.”
“I know.” He turned his attention from the road for a second to catch her look. “I could be a happy country mouse if you were there, I think.”
She smiled and looked at his strong profile when he turned back to face the road. “I’m glad. I’d love to live in Litchfield full time. I’m sure it’s totally impractical for both of our jobs, but I already miss being part of the seasons and the earth, you know what I mean?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds wonderful. I just pictured the two of us in the garden in the backyard next summer. You’re going to love it.” He reached his hand across the armrest to rest on her thigh, then let his hand rise up to her belly. “The three of us…”
She felt a wave of pleasure and a flutter of anticipatory joy. Resting her hand over his, pressing him into her, Claire leaned her head back against the headrest. “Won’t that be a wonderful turn of events?”
“It will.”
They were both silent.
“But Ben, honey…”
“Yes?”
“Please don’t say anything in front of your family. You promised.”
“So stop acting like I’ll break my word. You know I won’t. But they’ll probably ask. They’re nosy and persistent. It’s a terrible combination.” He lifted one side of his mouth in an apologetic half-smile.
She sighed in resignation. “I don’t want to lie. Can’t we say something lame like
we’re trying
or something like that?”
He laughed. “I won’t initiate the conversation, how about that?”
“Okay. I just don’t know what to think. After listening to you and Nicki, I’m expecting an inquisition.”
Ben smiled again. “You’re going to love my mom and dad. You’ll love them all, I bet, but Mom especially. She always hated Alice. She said she didn’t have a heart.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Alice just laughed it off.”
“You told her your mother said that?” Claire asked, shocked.
“What do you mean?” He looked at her quickly then focused on the turn in the road. “My mom said it to her face.”
Claire put both of her hands over her face. “Oh my god. This is going to be hell.”
As they turned into the driveway of the three-story, white clapboard colonial, Claire took another deep breath.
“Quit it with the deep breathing. You’re going to start hyperventilating,” Ben ordered.
“Okay.”
He turned off the ignition and unbuckled his seat belt so he could pull her into a deep kiss. Her head fell back into his waiting hand, and he took her roughly against him. “I love you, Claire Heyworth. Nothing else matters.”
She was breathless, barely noticing a movement of someone coming out the front door. He tried to pull her into another kiss. “Ben! Your mom will see us.”
He barked another laugh and planted a firm kiss on her lips. “So?” He laughed again and got out of the car to hug his mother. She had bustled out of the front door and down the front path to greet them.
Ben lifted the petite woman into a big hug, pulling her from the ground and shaking her from right to left. No question that there was enough love to go around. The woman exuded wave after wave of affection. Claire had walked around the front of the car and was standing quietly, waiting for them to finish saying hello. When Ben set Mrs. Hayek back down on the neatly shoveled path, the woman reached for Claire.
As with Nicki, Claire was extending her right hand to shake, and the other woman burst out laughing and hauled her into a hug. “Claire! I’ve heard so much about you! I feel like I know you already!”
Claire wasn’t at all sure what to do during that hug. She caught Ben’s look as he opened the boot and took out their two bags. The rat. He’d been talking all about her to his family. Claire patted Mrs. Hayek’s back a couple of times, but hugging strangers had never been her thing.
“Oh, but you are a brittle branch, aren’t you?” Mrs. Hayek said matter-of-factly. “Let’s go inside and get to know each other better.” Ben’s mother didn’t release Claire’s hand as she led her up the path and into the house.
After the front door had shut behind them, Claire was overwhelmed with the overpowering sense of…love. The feeling of family and intimacy and togetherness that filled the air of the house. Voices were chattering from every direction. A deep, older-male voice from the kitchen that must have been Ben’s father. More raucous female voices from the living room to the right.
“They’re here!” Ben’s mom cried into the house.
Claire felt Ben at her back, warm and supportive. He whispered into her ear, “Ready or not, here they come” as he removed her coat. He kissed her neck, and she tried to swat him away. When she looked back toward the living room, about a dozen people were standing there staring at them.
After a beat of silence, the onslaught began. “Ben!” Everyone sort of dove at them. “Claire… This is Olympia… Hi, I’m Sanger… Hey, I’m Cady and this is my partner Jen… Don’t worry; we’ll wear nametags at dinner… I’m Hoda…”
Claire was pretty sure she’d figured out which one was which, but Ben never left her side. He hadn’t seen Olympia in nearly two years. He began speaking French to her husband, and Claire answered in the same language when the man introduced himself. He looked to be about fifty and smiled when he realized she was also fluent in his native tongue. Ben had grown up speaking French at home, but none of his sisters’ partners were fluent except Georges, Olympia’s husband.
“Into the kitchen or the living room. Out of the front hall,” Ben’s mother commanded. Everyone began to disperse into the other areas of the old house.
Ben led Claire into the kitchen, where his father and Olympia had been making supper.
“Oh, may I help?” She hoped keeping her hands busy would help avoid unwieldy conversations about the Syrian conflict or Chechnya, which, for some reason, she assumed everyone in the house would be entirely well-versed about and she would say something revealingly ignorant.
“Yes, please,” Olympia said in French. “Do you want to make the salad?”
“Sure.” Claire pulled her hair back into a functional ponytail, then went to the sink and washed her hands. Olympia set out the big wooden bowl and heads of lettuce and tomatoes.
“Not very inventive, I’m afraid.”
Claire smiled. “At this point, it’s probably more like a mess hall than a kitchen, right?”
“Exactly. Feed the troops.” Olympia went back to buttering several baguettes.
“So Ben tells me your mother lives in Paris. Is that right?”
Claire filled the sink and began cleaning the lettuce. “Yes. She met her second husband there.”
“Is he French?”
“No. He’s an ex-pat American, but he’s lived there for nearly fifty years.”
“I could totally see that happening to me,” Olympia said.
“Do you ever miss America?”
Olympia tilted her head to one side, just like Ben did. “I can’t say that I do. When I’m here like this, with everyone’s voices and hugs and all that, I miss that. But I don’t really long for America.”
“I’ve only been away from the UK for a few months, but I could see that happening. I love my job. I love New York. I love…”
“Ben?” Olympia was reaching for a drawer to get the foil to wrap the bread and gave Clare a sweet little nudge on her upper arm.
“Yes. And Ben.” Claire blushed.
“You’re adorable.” Olympia grabbed the foil and shut the drawer. “He’s lucky to have you. That Alice was such a twat.”
Claire choked and started to cough.
“What? Are you okay?” Olympia smiled. “Oh, I forgot. You’re not accustomed to the Hayeks’ colorful language. Betty told me.”
“Oh, right, Nicki totally sold me out, huh?” Claire asked.
“Pretty much.”
As if on cue, Nicki burst in the back door. “Hey, Aunt Olympia! Hey, Claire!”
“Hi, Nicki!” Claire dried her hands on the kitchen towel and reached out to hug the exuberant teenager after Nicki had hugged her aunt.
“I’m so glad you came,” Nicki said. “I thought for sure I would have scared you off.” Nicki was unwinding a red-and-white scarf that looked to be endless.
“You almost did,” Ben added. He’d just come back into the kitchen. “I had to forcibly remove her from her apartment this morning.”
“That’s not exactly true,” Claire said.
Ben looked at Claire and winked.
“Ew. You’re obviously still in that syrupy lovey-dovey phase, I see,” Nicki observed.
“Yep. Pretty much,” Ben replied.
“Well, are Sanger and Hoda here? I know they’ll give me a good dose of snark and skepticism.”
Ben pointed into the living room with his thumb. “Thataway. Where’s your mom?”
“Helping Dad out of the car. He’s not feeling well.” She shrugged and continued into the living room.
Ben looked at Olympia, who shook her head, letting him know she didn’t know what was up. Even though the two of them were the bookends in terms of birth order, oldest and youngest, they were the most similar in many ways. Intuitive. Aware in a way that the rest of their sisters simply were not. Claire picked up on it too.
“Why don’t I go see what’s up with Betty and Paul?” Ben suggested and headed out the back door.
A few minutes later, a younger version of Ben’s mother came in with a tall, blond man in his mid-forties. He looked exhausted.
Ben set down their luggage and made the introductions. Betty and Olympia hugged, and it seemed to go on a little bit long. Claire was worried.
Paul extended his hand. “You must be the princess.”
“Oh dear,” Claire said, “I certainly hope not.”
His smile was so endearing, but even Claire could see the poor man was in pain. He reached out to shake her hand and, for once, Claire was the one to pull him into a hug. He chuffed a laugh and hugged her back. “I see you’ve already been drawn into the Hayek hugging factory.”
She stepped back and smiled up at him. “I have.”
Betty had finished hugging Olympia and moved on to Claire next. “You made quite an impression on Nicki a few weeks ago,” she said.
“She made quite an impression on me. She’s so full of life.”
Betty let out a quick laugh. “That’s one way to put it. She hates me just now, but that’s why I’m the mom, I guess.” She turned and grabbed a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator. “Anyone want a glass?”
All four of them raised their hands.
Betty took down five glasses, and Ben opened the white wine while Olympia and Claire finished preparing dinner. Olympia put the two baking dishes of lasagna into the oven to cook, and Claire set out the huge bowl of salad. Paul sat down carefully at the enormous farm table made of reclaimed barn boards, then the rest of them in the kitchen joined him.
Betty leaned back to crane her neck into the living room, making sure that Nicki couldn’t hear them. “So.” She looked at Paul. “Do you want to tell them or shall I?”
“Go ahead. I’m sick of talking about it.”
“Paul’s been diagnosed with stomach cancer.”
Claire felt Ben reach for her hand, and they squeezed each other beneath the table. “What can we do?” Ben asked.
“Nothing for now. We’re still trying to decide how to tell Nicki.”
Ben looked at Claire. “What would you do?”
Claire’s eyes widened. “What would I do?”
“Neither Olympia nor I have children…you do. How would you tell Lydia?”
Betty’s eyes connected with Claire’s. “Yes, would you tell her right away or wait until you had more test results and a treatment plan and all that?”
“Oh, it’s so hard to say,” Claire hesitated. “I think I would tell her right away. She would be so furious if she’d been kept in the dark. But Lydia tends to be furious by nature. If I were Nicki, I would want to know. Wouldn’t you?” She turned to look at everyone at the table.
Paul squeezed Betty’s hand. “You and I both know we need to tell her.”
Betty started weeping, holding her husband’s hand against her cheek. “I feel like…” She took a deep breath. “I feel like if we tell her, then it’s actually really happening.”
He reached up with his free hand and touched her cheek. “It is really happening, love.”
Claire squeezed Ben’s hand hard. It was so bizarre for her to be thrown into the midst of all this raw family drama. The way she’d grown up had been so completely different. It wasn’t that her family had been loveless. It was more that the love was very compartmentalized.
Her parents loved each other, and her mother loved her, and her father loved her, but it had all been very separate relationships. Her father would take her to the opera when she was a little girl. That was their time together. Her mother loved to dote on her with fancy clothes and trips to visit starchy grandes dames in Mayfair. Her younger brothers and sister were so very much younger, she’d never really had this level of integration with them at all.
The Hayeks were so tight.
Ben’s mom walked into the kitchen, still laughing at something Nicki had said in the living room. She turned the corner and stopped short when she saw Betty wiping her eyes.
“Hi, Sitti,” Paul said with a sad smile.
“Oh Paul.” She came around fast, like she did everything it seemed.