“Best road trip discovery ever. I love their caramel cake. The perfect marriage of salty and sweet, with four layers of lovely, moist cake…What made you decide to stop?”
“I was missing you.” It was the truth, even if it didn’t touch on all the whys. “How is everybody?”
As she navigated through town, Norah listened to her friend’s account of this year’s holiday hijinks. It was almost like listening to the summary of a Hallmark Channel movie, for all she could relate to to Miranda’s sprawling family, with aunts, uncles, and cousins galore. They were as close to normal as Norah ever got.
“—oh, and the boys had a poker tournament to decide who got the last slice of Grammy’s chocolate pie.”
Amusement and envy warred. Grammy’s chocolate pie was a thing of legend. “Who won?”
“Reed, who was totally the dark horse in that race. Everybody assumed Mitch would win because he always does. He said to tell you hello, by the way.”
“Tell him hi back and ask him when he’s coming to Chicago again for another architectural convention.”
“I still can’t believe you went on a date with my brother.”
“It wasn’t a date. It was a pity tour of the city, since you didn’t warn him you wouldn’t actually be able to leave the hospital to see him.”
“That’s why they call it residency. And anyway that’s not the way he tells that story.”
“Then Mitch is a liar liar pants on fire.”
“Why don’t you come down here and tell him that yourself? You keep promising to visit.”
“I know, I know,” Norah groaned. “It’s been way too long. But work’s been crazy. I had a hard enough time getting off to go to New York for the holiday. I can’t possibly ask off again so soon. Maybe closer to summer.”
“Summer? You do remember what Mississippi is like in the summer?”
“Honey, given the winter we’ve been having, I’d relish the chance to wear some short shorts and a tank top instead of a winter coat that makes me look like the Michelin Man.”
“I’ll remind you of that when you come and do your impression of the Wicked Witch of the West. How did Christmas go on your end? Was Rockefeller Center fabulous? I’m getting my vicarious white Christmas fix through you.”
“It was gorgeous. The Plaza was amazing, and midnight mass at Saint Thomas was simply beautiful. Christmas in Manhattan is definitely a unique experience.” And she’d have traded it all for one zany family dinner with the Campbells.
“Did your dad manage to refrain from harping on you about going back to law school?”
“Actually, he’s dating somebody. Some high-powered exec who looks like Hollywood’s idea of Wall Street. They went to Saint Bart’s, so it was just me and Mom. She got called in to emergency surgery, so I spent my holiday blessedly harp-free.”
Miranda didn’t buy her breezy, no
-big-deal tone for a moment. “Wait, so you were alone for Christmas?”
Sensing the edge of a blistering rant, Norah felt compelled to head Miranda off. “Not all of it. Between surgeries, Mom and I had a blast shopping for Operation Santa Claus, and she got out of surgery in time for a late Christmas dinner.”
“That’s awful.”
Norah bit back a sigh as she turned onto Main Street. Miranda’s outrage on her behalf was well-intentioned, even if it solved exactly nothing. “Well, it was certainly better than if Dad had tried to include Lillian. We’re a weirdly civilized modern family, but I don’t think we’re that civilized. Besides, it gave me some quiet time to catch up on this radical thing called reading for pleasure.”
“You should’ve come here. You know you’re always welcome.”
Norah knew they’d fold her into the flock. It was part of the Campbells’ charm. But there were a hundred reasons keeping her from following through on the invite Miranda made every year. “And I appreciate the offer. Now I’m going to let you go because I’m pretty sure I drove past Have Your Cake while I was running my mouth.”
“Buy two pieces and have one in my name.”
“And will those calories vicariously travel to your hips?” Norah circled the block for another pass.
“They will in spirit.”
“Give your family my best.”