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"Happy Thanksgiving, Miss Brittany," the doorman says, opening the heavy glass door.
"Hey, Bernie. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too," I say before dashing to the elevators. Bernie is my favorite and the friendliest of the building's employees. He's entertaining and loves to tell jokes when he has the time.
Reaching my mother's floor, I slowly walk down the corridor. I force a smile and knock on her door. It opens a moment later, and Herb stands there.
"Hi, sweetheart. I'm glad you could make it." He hugs me when I step inside.
"Thanks, Herb. Is Laurel here yet?"
"She's in the kitchen. I just made your mother a martini. Would you care for one?"
"Yes, please." I figure I should start drinking now since I'll need a few of them to get through the evening. It's almost like agame, trying to predict what eccentric things my mother will say or do, although pulling something to irritate the hell out of me is usually the norm.
Herb takes my jacket once I slip it from my shoulders and remove my phone from its pocket. After I hand him my purse, hat, and gloves, he puts everything in the walk-in closet while I search for Laurel.
I cross to the far end of the marble-floored gallery and enter the black, gray, and white kitchen with its adorable checkerboard backsplash. The kitchen alone is almost the size of my entire one-bedroom apartment. Laurel is standing at one of the marble counters, scooping food from take-out containers into serving dishes. Laughter springs from my throat when I see she has an apron tied around her waist decorated with images of cartoon turkeys.
"Shut up and help me," she barks.
"Let me guess. Mom ordered Thanksgiving dinner from Romano's again?"
"Of course. You know Mom won't cook. Can you scoop the sweet potatoes into the bowl next to it? If you can do the vegetables afterward, we can put everything on the table while it's still warm."
I join Laurel at the counter and pull a tablespoon from one of the drawers. "So, where did the apron come from?"
"It's Herb's. His granddaughter gave it to him since he loves to cook."
"That's sweet, and the apron is cute. Mom's lucky Herb's handy in the kitchen. I wonder why he didn't cook tonight's dinner."
"Mom wouldn't let him. She said she'd rather order it from Romano's so he didn't have to spend hours in the kitchen."
"Wow, that's awfully considerate of her."
Laurel scoffs. "A rarity, that's for sure. Oh, don't laugh at Mom when you see her."
I stop scooping a container of roasted parmesan brussels sprouts into a bowl and look at her. "Oh, Lord, what did Mom do?"
"She got lip fillers yesterday, and she's bruised and swollen. Honestly, she looks like she walked lips first into a door."
"Thanks for the warning. If I laugh, Mom will get pissed."
"Sorry about that. I got sidetracked," Herb says, coming into the kitchen. He sets my martini down on the counter next to me.
Finished with the brussels sprouts, I take a sip. "Whoa. That martini is crazy delicious. What is it?"
"In honor of the holiday, I made you a pecan pie martini." Herb turns to Laurel. "Are you ready for another appletini?"
"Yep, and once Britt and I get the food on the table, we can eat."
"In that case, I should hurry up."
I watch Herb leave the kitchen, the sleeves of his light blue dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. Smiling, I reflect on how shocked I was when he and Mom got together. Her criteria for a suitable partner had always been money and looks, in that order. Everything else was unimportant, or at least not important enough to be a deciding factor, and Herb didn't entirely fit that description. He was an outlier, different from all the other men in my mother's life. Sure, Herb had money and lots of it. But he wasn't dashingly handsome like the rest and would be considered average by comparison. Short and balding, Herb has ginger hair sprinkled with gray, and his nose is more prominent than most. But what Herb lacks in appearance, he makes up for in personality and kindness.
"Why the pensive look?" Laurel asks.
"I was thinking how Herb is different than our other stepdads. I hate to say it, but he's almost too good for Mom."
"I know. I thought the same thing. But Mom and Herb are happy, and that's what counts."
