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“This is Ari,” Claire said.
“Please tell me it's serious,” her mother said as if she were imagining mini vikings running around the house at Christmas.
“Oh, it's very serious,” Ari said. “I'm not sure there is a way it could be more serious.”
The butler appeared then to unobtrusively take their coats. Then Wendi led them to the dining room, apologizing that they were too late for cocktails.
“Charles!” Wendi said when they reached the dining room. “Claire brought a man to Thanksgiving! I can't remember the last time Claire brought a man to Thanksgiving! Can you?”
Her father rose from his seat and came around the table to where Claire and Ari stood. The two men shook hands in that perfunctory firm way men do. “And what do you do?” he asked Ari straight away.
“I'm an architect,” he said.
“Oh? Would I know any of your work?”
“The new library downtown? The Opera house restoration? There were a lot of new design elements that went into it. I also did the bank on Third and Main.”
Her father looked impressed. “That's quite a resume. We were at a charity gala at the new library two months ago and were remarking on the exquisite architecture.”
Claire noticed Roman when he came into the room. She hadn't expected to see him at Thanksgiving; it was usually just family. She excused herself to go say hi while Charles and Ari discussed building design. That might go on for a while.
Roman gave her a big hug when she reached him. “Missed you at New Year's.”
“I know. I came down with the flu,” she said. There was no sense in introducing a different lie, especially when her mother might have told him why she'd said she wasn't coming.
“I would have brought a date if I thought you were bringing one. When your mother invited me it seemed like it might be a set-up.”
Claire laughed. “And yet you still showed up.”
He winked. “Well I couldn't let you die an old lady with cats.”
“Thanks. Love you too.”
“Is he being good to you?” Roman asked, not hiding his open staring at Ari.
“Yes,” she said. She was only just now realizing that perhaps Roman had a bit of a thing for her. She never would have guessed. She'd always just thought they were friends. He was a very nice guy and very handsome, but she had no doubt he was into sweet and normal romantic sex. If he knew the things she needed, he'd run the other direction.
“So is it serious?” Roman asked.
“Very,” she said.
“And you're happy?”
She smiled. “Very.”
Roman sighed. “All right. Well, I'm bringing a date for the Christmas Eve party.”
Claire laughed.
There were about thirty people gathered for dinner along the very long dining room table. Aunts and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews and her remaining set of grandparents.
“So,” Wendi said, when the dessert tray was rolled out, “How did you two meet?”
In truth Claire was surprised that neither her mother nor anyone else at the table had asked that question yet. The entire room was silent, each person waiting to hear how Claire had met this guy all the women were drooling over and the men seemed intimidated by.
“She kidnapped me and held me captive in a cell for three weeks, and we just hit it off. It was fate,” Ari said without missing a beat.
Claire just gawked at him. But he winked at her, obviously getting a kick out of telling the absolute truth of how they met to her family, knowing they wouldn't take it seriously.
The table erupted in laughter.
“Gorgeousanda sense of humor. Don't let this one get away,” her mother said.
As if she could. “I don't think you have to worry about that,” Claire said.
Dinner was more pleasant than she'd remembered dinner with her family ever being. When the holiday ordeal was over, Ari helped her back into his car. As they pulled out of the driveway, she looked out the window, watching her parent's estate become smaller until it finally disappeared from view.
She sighed and looked back at Ari. He watched the road but took her hand in one of his, his thumb stroking the back of her hand as they drove on in silence.
Three hundred and twenty-three days. That was the amount of time since Ari had taken her. And somehow in that long span, instead of breaking her, he'd put her back together. The last thought on Claire's mind was escape.
