Ripped at the Seams (19 page)

“At least they didn't use my name,” Sami said.

“You're right,” Rain said. “No one would ever guess that Franklin was the hotter-than-hot photographer, and you were downtown's reigning princess of lingerie.” She bowed down low. “Your Majesty,” she said with an exaggerated British accent before exploding into giggles once again.

Sami threw the paper at her. Rain ducked just in time to miss being decapitated by the oncoming gossip page.

“I'm just glad my dad doesn't read the
Courier,
” Sami said. “He'd be on the next plane to drag me back to Elk Lake.”

Just then, the phone rang. Rain picked up the receiver. “Hello?” she said. “Just a second. I'll get her.”

“Is it for me?” Sami asked.

Rain nodded. “Speaking of Elk Lake … ,” she said mysteriously.

“Oh, no. It's my dad?” Sami asked.

“Relax.” Rain winked. “It's Celia.”

Sami breathed a sigh of relief and took the phone from Rain. “Hey, Celia. How are you feeling?” Sami asked as she headed toward the bedroom and shut the door. Ever since Celia had chastised her about being self-centered, Sami had started each of their conversations by focusing on Celia's health and news from home.

“I'm great. Fit as a fiddle. The blood pressure's under control, and I've been taking walks more often. It's fun to get out. Not as fun as the outings you've been having, but—”

Sami gasped. Had the
Courier
reached Elk Lake? “What do you mean?”

“I was watching E! this morning and I saw a clip of Ralph Lauren being interviewed at some big awards show. Guess who I saw beside him?”

“Who?”

“You, silly. And a long-haired hottie who I can only imagine was that Franklin Beane fellow you've told me so much about.”

Sami thought back to the night before. She vaguely recalled Franklin cozying up to Ralph Lauren while he was talking to a reporter, but she hadn't realized either of them had gotten in the shot. “We were there,” Sami told her. “I didn't know we were on TV, though.”

“You were,” Celia said. “And that's not the coolest part.”

“It's not?”

“No. The coolest part was that Mac saw you. He called right after it aired. Apparently the TV in the coffee shop was tuned to E! during the breakfast rush.”

Sami sighed. “How'd he take it?” she asked nervously.

“Well, he was kind of shocked at your short hair and all that makeup you were wearing.” Celia laughed. “But he acted like the ultimate proud papa. Made everyone think it was his idea that you move to New York.”

“Slightly revisionist history,” Sami murmured bitterly.

“I'll say. And everyone in the place knew it too. But apparently Mac just kept going on and on about how you were this hot new designer and everyone wanted to wear your stuff.”

“How'd he know that?” Sami asked.

“Al and I've kept him up to date. Of course he never once mentioned that you design lingerie—or, ‘unmentionables,' as he likes to call them.”

Sami laughed. Her lingerie was nothing compared with some of the other items in Beneath the Sheets. Now
those
were “unmentionables”!

“Anyhow, some of the people in the coffee shop started ribbing Mac about how he'd tried to keep you at home and how he hadn't even seen you since you moved in July, and the next thing anyone knew, he
was on the phone ordering three plane tickets to New York City.”

Sami gulped.
“Excuse me?”

Celia laughed. “You heard me. We're all coming to visit you—we'll be in on Thursday!”

“What Thursday?”

“
This
Thursday!” Celia said. “Good thing, too, because another few weeks and I won't be able to fly anymore.”

“But—but, Dad … in New York?”

“I know, it sounded weird to me, too. But I think the one thing he fears more than New York is losing face with his friends back here. If he didn't go, they'd rib him forever,” Celia said.

“Thursday?” Sami repeated. “It's so … so soon. And I don't even know where I'd put all of you. This apartment is so small, and it's a walk-up, which you can't do because you'd never be able to get up the stairs. And Franklin and I have a big benefit to go to on Thursday. He's already gotten the tickets and I can't—”

“That's okay,” Celia said, her voice suddenly losing some of its enthusiasm. “We can see you on Friday. Just make us a
reservation at some hotel. And don't worry, we'll only stay a week.”

“Come on, Celia, don't be like that,” Sami pleaded. “I want to see you, you know that. It's just that life here is so busy. But I'll clear Friday and most of the weekend, I promise.”

Sami spoke to Celia for a few more moments before hanging up. “Oh, this is just awful,” she moaned as she walked back into the living room.

“What's the matter?” Rain asked, concerned at the look of utter panic in Sami's face. “Is Celia okay? Is it the baby?”

“Oh, no,” Sami assured her. “She's fine. They both are. It's just that she, Al, and my dad all saw me on TV.”

“You were on TV?” Rain asked.

“Standing with Franklin behind Ralph Lauren while Ralph was being interviewed.”

Rain began to laugh. “I'll say this for Franklin: He knows how to be in the right place at the right time.”

“Come on, this is serious,” Sami said. “Suddenly Dad's acting all proud and
everything. He's coming to New York, with Celia and Al, on Thursday!”

Vin looked at her curiously. “But that's a good thing, right?”

“Wrong.”

“Wrong?” Vin said. “I thought you wanted to patch things up with him.”

“Over the phone,” Sami told him. “Not here. Can you imagine my dad in New York? I can just see him in his big snorkle parka and boots wandering around the Village—”

“So what?” Rain interrupted. “It's not like he'd be the weirdest-looking guy in this neighborhood.”

“And he's going to want to meet Franklin. I can only imagine what
he'll
think of my dad—or of Celia and Al, for that matter.”

“What's wrong with them?” Rain asked. “It's not like they're the Beverly Hillbillies, you know. She's your best friend—other than me, of course. And he's your brother.”

“They're also the ones who helped you move here in the first place,” Vin chimed in.

“I know,” Sami agreed. “But they're
just so different from the people I know here.”

“They don't sound all that different,” Vin said.

Sami didn't look so sure. “Franklin and my family. Oh, that'll be just great. What's he going to do when they start discussing hunting or ice fishing?”

Vin shook his head as he stood up from the couch. He turned to Rain. “I've got some work to do. Call me later if you want to catch a movie.”

“What's with him?” Sami asked Rain as the door closed behind Vin.

Rain shrugged and grabbed her jacket from the coat rack. “I'm going out for a run,” she said. “You might want to call and make reservations at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. It's in a much more chic area of the Village.”

“Is it expensive?” Sami asked.

Rain shrugged. “Everything comes with a price, babe,” she said as she headed out the door.

After much coaxing from Lola, Rain, and Vin, Sami decided to take Thursday afternoon off to meet her family at the airport before heading to the benefit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Vin had cleared his afternoon calendar and volunteered to drive her out to JFK Airport in his van. He knew this was one errand Sami didn't want to go on alone.

As she and Vin drove to the airport, Sami became more and more nervous. She knew that the purpose of Mac's visit was more than he'd led Celia to believe. Mac had taken ribbing from his friends before and it had never made him leave Elk Lake.
Not even when his wife had left him. He was going to try to convince her to come back to Elk Lake—of that, Sami was certain. She was less certain, however, that she'd be able to withstand another barrage of attacks from him. Or worse yet, a Mac Granger guilt trip. Sami's dad was the king of guilt. Either way, he would be hard to deal with face-to-face. That's why she'd left for New York before he'd ever woken up. It hadn't been mature, but she and Celia had both decided that it was the way it had to be.

Sami had hoped to get to JFK Airport early, but she and Vin hit a patch of traffic because of some of the never-ending construction that plagued New York City's roadways. So by the time the van pulled up in front of the terminal, Al, Celia, and her father were already waiting in the taxi line.

“There they are,” Sami said nervously. But she made no move to get out of the van.

“Where?” Vin asked.

Sami sighed. “I'm sure you can pick them out.”

“It's not like they're wearing a sign that
says, ‘Look at us, we're tourists from a small town.'”

Sami laughed for the first time since she'd gotten in the van. “Just look for the group that includes a very pregnant woman, her husband, and a very angry man in a huge down jacket.”

Vin laughed and looked around. Sure enough, there they were, exactly as Sami had just described them. “Oh, there they are. They've only got one or two more people and then they're next in line. Do you want to get out and go over to them, or should we just wait for them to get into a taxi and tail them all the way back to Manhattan?”

“Is this a multiple-choice question?” Sami asked hopefully.

Vin gave her a playful shove. “Get out of the van.”

“Come with me?”

Vin shook his head. I can't just leave the van here: They'll tow me. But I promise to dial 911 the minute your father turns into a werewolf. I think there's a full moon tonight.”

“Not funny.” Sami grimaced as she
unhooked her belt and got out of the van. She walked slowly toward the taxi line, feeling more like someone heading to the gallows than a girl who was about to see her family for the first time in four months. Of course, in Sami's mind, it was all sort of the same thing.

Celia was the first one to recognize Sami. “There she is!” she shouted, leaving Al and Mac Granger behind as she waddled over toward Sami.

“Wait for us,” Al called out, grabbing their bags and following his wife. Sami's dad didn't hurry, however. Instead, he walked cautiously, eyeing his daughter suspiciously, trying to determine whether she was in a fighting mood.

Sami wasn't looking at her dad, though. She was too busy hugging Al and patting Celia's belly.

Sami was amazed at the transformation that had taken place in her brother. Al looked at Celia with a sense of devotion and caring that Sami had never seen on his face before. He stood tall and proud as Sami patted Celia's stomach and cooed over her pregnant glow.

Celia had changed as well. Her usually chiseled features were camouflaged by a growing roundness in her face. And her stomach looked huge—as though she'd swallowed a watermelon that had begun to spread around her hips. Not even the plaid wool maternity cape she was wearing could hide the fact that Celia had taken advantage of her pregnancy to eat whatever she chose. But like Al, she also seemed more mature and settled. The wild schoolgirl who would try anything at least once had been replaced by a mother-to-be. Sure, Celia still had the same lilting laugh, but her smile had something wise and knowing behind it. It was as though Celia had learned a secret that Sami didn't yet know.

But Celia wasn't the one who'd changed the most. That award went to Mac Granger. Sami was shocked at just how much older her dad seemed. In Elk Lake he'd seemed so tall and strong. But here, in New York, surrounded by people of all sizes, shapes, races, and religions, he seemed small and meek. His back was obviously bothering him. He was stooped slightly and kept shifting his
weight from foot to foot. One look at his nervous face and it was obvious that he was overwhelmed by the crowded city airport.

Suddenly all of Sami's fears washed away. There was nothing this man could say or do that would make her go back home against her will. He wasn't frightening at all. They were on her turf now. No matter what games her father might try to play, Sami had the home court advantage.

“Hi, Dad,” she said in a strong, confident tone. “Welcome to New York.”

Mac shook his head. “Some welcome. You should have seen the lines waiting to get the luggage. And now this taxi line. Instead of the Big Apple, they oughtta call this place the Big Line.”

Celia sighed. “You haven't seen Sami in four months, and that's all you can say? Look at her. She's so sophisticated and hip.”

“I liked her better the way she used to look. What made you cut your hair, anyway?” Mac groused. “And what's with all that makeup? You could work in a bordello. Oh yeah, I forgot, isn't that sort of what you're doin'?”

Sami shook her head. “I design
lingerie,
Dad.”

“Well, where else do people wear that stuff?” Mac shot back.

Al stepped between his sister and his father. “I think you look great, kiddo,” he said. “Success has been good for you.”

“Well, I don't know how successful I am,” Sami said. She turned to Celia. “I still haven't put Elk Lake on the map.”

“You will,” Celia assured her. “Now, did you drive here? Or are you taking a taxi back with us? I've got to get off my feet.”

“My friend Vin volunteered to drive. His van's over there.”

As they walked to the van, Sami was pointedly aware that her father had made no attempt to hug her, or even greet her. But then again, she hadn't, either. It seemed to her that she and her father had more in common than either one of them would ever admit.

During the ride back to Manhattan, Vin kept the conversation light and far from anything that could get Sami into any trouble with her dad. He pointed out
various landmarks and talked about New York history with the confidence and knowledge of a professional tour guide. Celia and Al laughed at his jokes, and even Mac seemed interested by Vin's tales of the city.