surprised. Having distanced herself from her father, Valentina seemed desperate to replace him in other ways.
While the three women chatted comfortably, Oliver and Greg showed up, looking tan and relaxed after spending the month of August in the Hamptons, sharing a house with friends. They were all happy to see each other.
They ordered wine, except for Sasha. Max sent over some starters, and the restaurant was busy that night while they caught up and talked about the recent fire on their block, which had scared them all. Claire complained about her French intern again, Morgan said she had a slew of new clients, Sasha was hoping to work at the infertility clinic in the coming months and was excited about it, and they had agreed to buy a new black leather couch for the apartment from one of Claire’s mother’s decorating resources. And Oliver announced that he and Greg wanted to do Thanksgiving dinner at their place this year for anyone not going home. They caught up on news and made plans for the fall season together, and Morgan suggested they rent a ski house for a weekend in Vermont, which everyone thought was a good idea. Max and Morgan were avid skiers, as were Oliver and Greg, and Sasha said she’d love it too, if she wasn’t on call that weekend. Claire had never skied but said she might come up anyway, just to be with them, it sounded like so much fun, although they always talked about it but could never find a date that worked for everyone.
They ordered their favorite dishes for dinner, and tried a few new things Max had added to the menu and recommended, and no one was disappointed by the meal. And Sasha made them all laugh when she described her date with the underwear model. She didn’t expect to hear from him again, and didn’t care. And just as she finished the story, Abby came in looking slightly flustered, sorry to be late, and apologized also for Ivan, who she said was exhausted and had gone home to bed. He wasn’t missed, but everyone was happy to see Abby. She said the performance had gone well, although no one cared. The waiter cleared their plates from the table while they ordered dessert and cappuccinos. Sasha got a text and frowned, and looked at her friends a moment later.
“I just turned into a pumpkin.” She had worn jeans and a pink sweater, and could change into scrubs when she got to the hospital—she didn’t need to go home. They were pulling her in for a set of twins. They had admitted the mother to the hospital a week before, to stop premature labor, but they couldn’t hold it off anymore. The babies were a month early, and had had complications. The text said she was dilating rapidly, and they wanted Sasha in right away.
“Duty calls,” she said as she stood up, and kissed each of them before she left. “See you tomorrow. I’m in for Thanksgiving, by the way, if I’m not working,” she said to Oliver when she hugged him. “I can’t deal with being pulled between my parents anymore. Someone always gets pissed off. I’m staying here for Thanksgiving, and I’ll probably be on call or on duty that day anyway. If I’m not at the hospital, count me in. I’ll tell Valentina, but she’ll probably be in Gstaad or Dubai with a new guy by then.” Valentina hadn’t gone home for holidays for years, for all the reasons Sasha had just stated. It was too stressful for them, and without meaning to, their parents made it miserable for them. It was like playing tug-of-war, and Sasha felt like the rope, being pulled in opposite directions by parents who were still at war seven years after their divorce.
“We’ll be happy to have you,” Oliver assured her, and she knew that Thanksgiving would be warm and wonderful at their home. They had a beautiful apartment, and loved entertaining friends, which they did well, unlike Morgan, who had never been the homemaker her brother was, and she couldn’t cook as well as Max, who had made Thanksgiving for them the year before.
Sasha left
While the three women chatted comfortably, Oliver and Greg showed up, looking tan and relaxed after spending the month of August in the Hamptons, sharing a house with friends. They were all happy to see each other.
They ordered wine, except for Sasha. Max sent over some starters, and the restaurant was busy that night while they caught up and talked about the recent fire on their block, which had scared them all. Claire complained about her French intern again, Morgan said she had a slew of new clients, Sasha was hoping to work at the infertility clinic in the coming months and was excited about it, and they had agreed to buy a new black leather couch for the apartment from one of Claire’s mother’s decorating resources. And Oliver announced that he and Greg wanted to do Thanksgiving dinner at their place this year for anyone not going home. They caught up on news and made plans for the fall season together, and Morgan suggested they rent a ski house for a weekend in Vermont, which everyone thought was a good idea. Max and Morgan were avid skiers, as were Oliver and Greg, and Sasha said she’d love it too, if she wasn’t on call that weekend. Claire had never skied but said she might come up anyway, just to be with them, it sounded like so much fun, although they always talked about it but could never find a date that worked for everyone.
They ordered their favorite dishes for dinner, and tried a few new things Max had added to the menu and recommended, and no one was disappointed by the meal. And Sasha made them all laugh when she described her date with the underwear model. She didn’t expect to hear from him again, and didn’t care. And just as she finished the story, Abby came in looking slightly flustered, sorry to be late, and apologized also for Ivan, who she said was exhausted and had gone home to bed. He wasn’t missed, but everyone was happy to see Abby. She said the performance had gone well, although no one cared. The waiter cleared their plates from the table while they ordered dessert and cappuccinos. Sasha got a text and frowned, and looked at her friends a moment later.
“I just turned into a pumpkin.” She had worn jeans and a pink sweater, and could change into scrubs when she got to the hospital—she didn’t need to go home. They were pulling her in for a set of twins. They had admitted the mother to the hospital a week before, to stop premature labor, but they couldn’t hold it off anymore. The babies were a month early, and had had complications. The text said she was dilating rapidly, and they wanted Sasha in right away.
“Duty calls,” she said as she stood up, and kissed each of them before she left. “See you tomorrow. I’m in for Thanksgiving, by the way, if I’m not working,” she said to Oliver when she hugged him. “I can’t deal with being pulled between my parents anymore. Someone always gets pissed off. I’m staying here for Thanksgiving, and I’ll probably be on call or on duty that day anyway. If I’m not at the hospital, count me in. I’ll tell Valentina, but she’ll probably be in Gstaad or Dubai with a new guy by then.” Valentina hadn’t gone home for holidays for years, for all the reasons Sasha had just stated. It was too stressful for them, and without meaning to, their parents made it miserable for them. It was like playing tug-of-war, and Sasha felt like the rope, being pulled in opposite directions by parents who were still at war seven years after their divorce.
“We’ll be happy to have you,” Oliver assured her, and she knew that Thanksgiving would be warm and wonderful at their home. They had a beautiful apartment, and loved entertaining friends, which they did well, unlike Morgan, who had never been the homemaker her brother was, and she couldn’t cook as well as Max, who had made Thanksgiving for them the year before.
Sasha left
Similar Books
