She picked up the phone and dialed her Aunt Muffie, who answered on the third ring and greeted with, “Happy Holidays.” Taddy inhaled a sharp breath, preventing a tear. Why does your voice always make me cry? Because you sound just like Mom. “Merry Christmas.”
“How is my favorite niece?”
“Auntie Muffie, you only have one niece—me.” Taddy laughed for a second then remembered the circumstances that had brought her to Canada. She filled her aunt in on Birdie.
“I heard about Birdie while lunching at the Colony Club last week. I haven’t seen her around town lately.”
When Taddy and Lex were younger, Birdie had befriended Aunt Muffie through her longstanding association with Countess Irma. When she and Lex went off to the Avon Porter Academy, Birdie stopped talking to Irma and Muffie. She never gave her a reason and Taddy didn’t pry, however Birdie made it obvious she wanted nothing to do with the Brillfords. Birdie kept up a good face of hellos but that was about it.
“Yup, Lex’s mom is sick.”
“I’m sorry to hear you’re stuck with her for Christmas, dear. But that’s very much like you, Tabitha Adelaide.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’d do anything for Lex, you always would. You gave her and Birdie the start-up capital to get Easton Essentials off the ground.” Her aunt coughed and then divulged, “You may not have much for parents. Thank heavens you have Lex for friendship.”
“Right.” No argument there.
“Have you heard from your mother this holiday?”
“Nope. I don’t know if she even has my number.”
“Irma has your cell. I’ve given her your number on many occasions.” Muffie cursed a few words before offering, “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay, Auntie.”
“Maybe your assistant at your office has spoken with them. It’s possible they’ve called there. No?” Muffie’s voice rose an octave. She was always so hopeful for a reunion.
“No.”
Dead silence between them. Taddy fisted her right hand. Her aunt pressed on with the usual denial.
“What about your father, has he—”
Stop, Auntie Muffie. “Please don’t.”
“My dear Tabitha Adelaide, I’m sorry. We won’t bring it up again. I don’t know what to say or do over it. Every holiday I hope for the best.”
“Me too.” She hated to admit it, but she’d give anything to see them again.
“You have every right to those feelings about my sister and the swine she married.” Muffie knew the truth about her parents. Her dad had made her mom choose. Taddy and a divorce, or stay married and denounce their child. By blood, Taddy wasn’t her father’s daughter. Joseph Graf won and the choice was made. Aunt Muffie did her best to be there for Taddy. Although Taddy’s natural instincts kept anyone related to her mother away.
Her cell phone chimed with an incoming call. Her screen flashed, “Viveca Farnworth”.
“I have to go, Auntie.”
“Be a dear and call me if Birdie gets worse. We must make arrangements.” That meant funeral. “Your mother and I have known Mrs. Easton longer than anyone else in this town.”
“Yes, I will see you soon. I—love you.” Taddy clicked over, not waiting for her to respond. She knew better. Aunt Muffie never stated, “I love you too.” Love didn’t exist in the Brillford vocabulary.
“Vive, thank God you called.”
“I just hung up with Lex. I feel so guilty spending Christmas in Anguilla while you two are in Canada.”
“Stop. Enjoy the time with your family.”
“Have you called home?” Vive slurped loudly into the phone.
“What are you drinking?”
“A piña colada with an extra rum floater on the top.” She made a licking lips sound into the phone and sassed, “Don’t change the topic. Answer my question.” Vive muffled the phone, asking whomever for a refill.
Lex had been the first to suggest to Taddy that perhaps Vive had a substance abuse problem. More specifically, diet pill addiction. Taddy had booked her at a facility in Malibu. No one knew, not even her parents, until Los Angeles paparazzi broke the story. Vive’s parents owned Farnworth’s Firewater, an aperitif meets schnapps with an eighty percent proof. To have the daughter of a liquor fortune go into treatment for anything, in particular drugs and alcohol, was salacious. Farnworth’s number-one rival was Jägermeister. Her family questioned if they’d leaked the story to the press.
Regardless, when Vive returned to New York from rehab, she kept on drinking. Her parents hailed from the vodka belt and drank more booze than water, so Vive came by it naturally. At least she’d quit the pills. It was a start.
“I’ve spoken to Lex, Auntie Muffie and now you today. You ladies are my home.” Taddy’s throat grew tight. Family topics made her queasy.
“Gotcha, girlie.” Vive burped. “Screw Christmas. Let’s talk about next week. Debauchery is slated to cosponsor a New Year’s Eve party on South Beach with Farnworth’s Firewater, but I’m backing out.”
“Why?”
“SoBe parties are aspirational. No real movers and shakers for my magazine’s image.” Vive laughed. “Not enough for me to be seen on Lincoln Road. You get what I’m sayin’?”
“That’s Miami, darling.” She reached over and took a sip from the detox beverage and made a face. It was too damn grainy and bitter. Baden executives, this isn’t going to sell.
“I’m staying in Anguilla with my brother and his dippy wife. If everything turns out okay with Birdie—and it will—do you and Lex wanna jet down?”
“Oh I’d love to. But I don’t want to get my hopes up.” Hope and Christmas didn’t go together for her. Taddy hoped to have heard from her parents. Fooled again. Taddy hoped she could go a year without Birdie drama. She didn’t come close. Her dream to spend this week in the warm sun, topless and admiring hot male bodies who in return admired her—shit, Taddy didn’t score that either. Canada? I still don’t flippin’ believe this.
“Understandable. My folks have their pilot on standby to fly back to New York if Birdie…you know.”
“I see…” Taddy noticed for the first time Vive, the fastest mouth in Manhattan, had fallen silent. She did too. Dumbfounded over their loss for what to say next, she ended their talk with, “Call you tomorrow, honey.”