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Kara
Modest. No one’s here except for his mom, so it’s oddly quiet.
Bea
Wow, so you’re going to spend Christmas/Hanukkah with Peter and his family?
Kara
I guess so.
Peter’s mom seems nice. She’s teased me already, which is so different. You know how he is.
Bea
Like talking to a rock sometimes? A very smart rock? Yes, we know how Peter is, lol.
Clara
But we also know how you are. You’ll win them over.
I send a heart emoji and put my phone on the nightstand.
An extra loud clang comes from downstairs. I take the stairs back down and join Nora in the kitchen. It’s a narrow space, with cabinets above the counter that close the kitchen off from the small dining area. Aside from the table with six chairs, there’s a wall of built-in shelves covered with books that immediately catches my eye.
Before I can wander over and look at titles, though, Nora pauses chopping vegetables to offer me wine.
“Red or white?” she asks.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
She retrieves two wine glasses from the cabinet between us and pops the cork out of a bottle sitting on the counter. It’s red, deep and lovely in color.
Nora sets a glass in front of me and lifts hers. “Proscht.”
I clink my glass to hers. Nora takes a sip and then gets back to chopping.
“Where is everyone else?”
“My husband, Liam, is helping the neighbor wrap their pipes. My daughter and her family are shopping for some last-minute supplies. They should be back soon.”
I nod. “That makes sense.”
The air fills with thesnick, snick, snickof her knife.
“You’re American,” she says, glancing up and taking in my features. “Where are you from?”
“I live with my parents in the Bronx. But they emigrated from Bulgaria when my older sister was a baby.”
“How do you know my son, then?”
I take a fortifying sip of my wine before answering. “I’m a personal stylist, and Peter hired me.”
The knife stops moving, and Nora stares at me. “You’rethe stylist?”
“Uh...yes?” What did I do to deserve that reaction?
“Huh,” is the only response I get before Peter’s mom resumes chopping. If she was going to say anything else, though, she doesn’t have the chance because the front door opens and voices ring out that are not Peter’s.
