Part 4 (2/2)
I didn't have a clue what the big white box was, but I could guess that the ice chest was full of corn-free food.
Rose spoke to me quietly. ”I hate being a nuisance about this, but-”
”No, no,” I interrupted. ”If this is about Finney's corn allergy, I understand completely. I saved all my labels; I can show you my recipes.”
”Jeremy kept telling us not to worry, but I'm a *food-allergy mom,' and that's what we do, worry.”
I knew that corn is one of the most difficult allergies to manage. Corn syrup is used in an extraordinary number of packaged or processed foods, and cornstarch appears even in many medications.
”Cami told me that Finney has been wanting to go to McDonald's,” I said, ”so we're having hamburgers and french fries. I made the buns and the ketchup. I got peanut oil for the french fries. I found a Jewish family who still had some kosher-for-Pa.s.sover c.o.ke.” Observant Jewish families, I'd learned, avoid all grain products during Pa.s.sover, so in the spring the Coca-Cola Company produces a small run of c.o.ke that uses cane sugar instead of the cheaper corn syrup. ”I also made the cookies and the ice cream.”
Rose drew back with an involuntary gesture.
I guess I had overachieved on this meal. I'd told myself that I wanted to be nice, that I wanted to show Rose that our family understood the needs of her family. Instead I was probably coming across as terminally needy, so desperate for approval that I'd made my own ketchup.
”I like to cook,” I was now apologizing. ”And I like challenges.”
”Jeremy said that too.”
Jeremy and Zack were already climbing the stairs, black vinyl garment bags folded over their arms. I waved everyone inside. The driver followed us, carrying a very large package wrapped in glossy white paper and tied with an elaborate silver bow. Its size was daunting.
”Don't worry,” Rose said to me. ”We did not bring you the Taj Mahal as a hostess gift.” She signaled to Annie and the girl handed me a perfectly straightforward gift bag-in fact, I recognized the design; her kids' school must have sold Sally Foster gift wrap too. Inside was a pair of very interesting handmade candles, white with spirals of buff. It was the sort of ”anyone will like this” gift that I can never find, at least not at a price I'm willing to pay.
”Cami, this box is for you and Jeremy,” Rose said.
”It's heavy.” Finney said. ”Very heavy.”
”What fun. I love presents,” Cami explained. She tested a corner of the box. ”Oh, Finney, you're right. It is heavy. What is it? Who's it from?”
”I'm not going to tell you what it is,” Rose said, ”and if you read the card, you'll see it is from Jill Allyn.”
”Oh.” Cami suddenly was less happy about the gift. ”Did she really make you bring it down here? Is that why you had to drive down? Because of this?”
”And Annie's clothes,” Finney said. ”Annie brings lots of clothes. Some of them are Mommy's.”
”That's not big news, Finney,” Annie said. ”Everyone knows that.”
Cami pulled Finney to stand next to her so that they could unwrap the gift together. I guessed that ”Jill Allyn” was the novelist Jill Allyn Stanley. That article about Rose had mentioned her as one of Rose's ”finds.” I hadn't read any of her books, but patients' wives or mothers frequently had one of them at the hospital because it was what their book clubs were reading.
Cami and Finney were being careful with the paper, discussing which piece of tape to loosen next. Every so often the sun would catch the ring on her left hand, sending a glittering splatter of light against her little brother's s.h.i.+rt and the wall behind him. Finally, Jeremy suggested to Finney that it might be fun just to rip the paper. Finney brightened. He liked that idea. So he gave the paper a yank. It tore with a delicious crispness, revealing the box for a ma.s.sive espresso machine made of copper and hammered aluminum.
”Wow.” Jeremy crouched down to look at it more closely. ”This is something. I bet it makes great coffee.”
Cami had a more realistic eye. ”But it's so big. I don't know where we'll put it. Mom, we didn't register for anything like this. How are we going to get it back to California?”
”We'll drop it at a s.h.i.+pping place,” Rose told her.
”It would have been nice if Jill Allyn had done that in the first place.”
”Oh, you know her. She thought it would be fun for you to have a gift today.”
”Let's not worry about it right now,” Guy said briskly. ”We'll take it back to Park Slope and worry about it there.”
”Is it okay if we leave it there for a while?” Cami asked. ”We really don't have room for it in our apartment.”
”It's not like we do either,” Annie said bluntly. ”Come on, Cami, Mom is always after you to throw stuff out because we don't have enough storage s.p.a.ce. You know how p.i.s.sed off you got last Christmas because we were storing stuff in your room.”
”I was p.i.s.sed off,” Cami said, ”because you had your clothes all over my bed. I didn't mind Dad putting a couple of boxes in the corner.”
”Girls.” Rose was warning them not to bicker. ”We'll take the machine to Mec.o.x Road. That's where we're storing all the wedding things.”
”Oh, right.” Annie turned to me. ”We have to be the only family in the world who views our house in the Hamptons primarily as an enormous closet.”
Dad had started the grill when we'd first spotted the limo, so he and Jeremy went out to cook the burgers. As Cami and Rose helped me put the rest of lunch on the table, Finney waited patiently in a corner of the dining room. Once everything was ready and he'd been told where to sit, he looked to his mother to find out what he could eat.
”You can have whatever you want,” she told him. ”Jeremy's mother made everything and she was very careful.”
He looked at me. ”Very very careful?”
”Very very very careful,” I a.s.sured him.
”Thank you,” he said and instantly looked at Rose, wanting to be sure that she noticed him remembering his manners.
After being properly congratulated, he set to work, eating with a steady, determined joy. He was so absorbed in the food that several times he started to hum, but Cami, who was sitting next to him, would lay her hand on his arm and he would stop.
The time went quickly. Guy took charge of the conversation, and it was lively and interesting. No one described the trips that they'd been on or told long stories about people the rest of the group didn't know. Finally Rose caught Guy's attention and lifted her wrist, tapping her watch.
”Oh, lord,” he groaned and leaned back in his chair to look out the dining-room window. ”The car's probably been out there for an hour. We need to get moving. We have to eat again in two hours.” They were meeting Mike, Claudia, and Mike's mother for afternoon tea at the Ritz-Carlton.
”Finney, you should use the bathroom before we go,” Rose said. ”Ask Jeremy where it is.”
Obediently, Finney went upstairs. I heard him moving around, looking in the bedrooms. I wondered if he had forgotten Jeremy's directions or if he was just curious about the rest of the house. When he came down, he spoke hopefully. ”Lunch again first?”
”You can have a snack in the car,” Rose said to him.
”Okay,” he said agreeably. ”But Mrs. Van Darcy. I like her food. She makes good food.”
”That's certainly the truth,” Guy agreed and rumpled Finney's hair. ”You have good taste, Mr. Finney. We'll certainly know where to find you if you ever run away from home.”
Finney giggled, probably responding more to Guy's tone than his actual words. But the words did give me an idea. I spoke quietly to Rose. ”Would Finney like to spend the rest of the afternoon here? We're not doing anything special, but it has to be better for him than tea at the Ritz.”
Rose paused.
I understood. She couldn't be used to this, leaving Finney at other people's houses on the spur of the moment. Between his allergies and his cognitive disability, she couldn't just leave him someplace and hope for the best.
”Cami will be here,” I reminded her.
<script>