A Family, At Last

“I’ll pay you double,” Gloriana Macbeth said, her voice oozing with the charm that had landed her many headliner movie roles.

Karyn rolled her eyes. She was at home talking on her Bluetooth, having just finished wrapping two last-minute purchases for her clients. She would deliver them, pack her suitcase and head for the airport for a red-eye flight to visit her parents in Vermont, a visit she dreaded more than anything.

Karyn drew a deep breath and focused on the phone call. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, Glori.”

“Seriously? You’re going to use the Christmas card, pun intended? How long have we worked together? I know you don’t celebrate the holiday,” Gloriana said dryly.

“I still spend the time with my parents.”

“Ah, yes. Where you sit and watch TV and get through the days trying to avoid anything Christmas-like.”

Bull’s-eye. Direct hit. “Still...you’ve got a stylist.”

“She went into labor this morning,” Gloriana said. “And I’m between assistants, as you know. I do wish you would accept that job.”

The woman went through personal assistants with staggering frequency. She was the perfect stereotype of a diva, nicknamed Lady Macbeth for her ruthless ambition. Karyn preferred their friendly-but-not-a-daily relationship.

“Come on, Karyn. I’ll triple your fee. What’ll it take? An hour, maybe? Just show up, help me choose a gown and accessories, then you’re done. You know I don’t trust just anyone, and this is for the cover of People.”

If the woman would just once say please, Karyn might have said yes. “Glori—”

“Quadruple, but that’s it. It should cover your airfare, then you could take another vacation somewhere else to recover from this one,” Gloriana said. “I’ve already had hair and makeup done.”

“All right, all right,” Karyn said to get her off her back and because she needed the distraction. It had been excruciating, waiting for the DNA results.

“In an hour.” She hung up without a thank you or goodbye.

“You’re welcome,” Karyn said into the air. Most of her clients were reasonable and polite, although they sometimes displayed a certain entitlement that often came with celebrity. She continued to keep Gloriana as a client for the status of having a megastar on her list, but also because they’d figured out how to work together with minimal fuss after a rocky beginning five years ago.

Karyn didn’t claim to be a stylist, although she could have been. She didn’t like to focus on only one kind of job, preferring variety instead. Except it had become harder and harder to get up every morning and do the work since Kyle had died.

Karyn grabbed her purse and the packages, pushing thoughts of Kyle from her head, wanting to arrive at the photo studio before Gloriana and look over the gown choices from her favorite designer, which would’ve been sent ahead of her arrival.

Traffic was a bear. What should have been a half-hour trip became almost an hour, giving Karyn no time to set up early. She didn’t like being rushed in general, but today was worse than usual. The combination of being late, Christmas Eve only a day away, the anticipated flight and the elusive test results were almost too much to handle.

But because she was a professional who took pride in her work, she put a smile on her face and knocked on the studio door, which was locked to the general public.

“Is she here?” Karyn asked the studio assistant, Fleur.

“Not yet.” Fleur smiled sympathetically. “Oops. Strike that. Here she comes.”

Karyn slipped past Fleur and into the dressing room. Eight gowns hung on a rack. Shelves were filled with shoes and accessories.

Gloriana came in immediately after, wearing a jogging suit that probably cost what Karyn made in a month. It emphasized Gloriana’s perfect body, made so by hard work—exercise and healthy eating—and a little help from her plastic surgeon. She looked far younger than her thirty-three years.

“There you are,” Gloriana said to Karyn.

“Yes, here I am. Good morning,” Karyn said, smiling serenely, feeling anything but calm.

“Mimosa, Ms. Macbeth?” Fleur asked, passing her a glass without waiting for a response. “I have a tray of pastries, also.”

“That’s not the way to keep one’s girlish figure.” She glanced at Karyn, as if to make a point. “So, what have you chosen?”

Karyn took one gown off the rack. It dazzled with sparkling beads. “This salmon would look wonderful with your skin.” Knowing Gloriana never said yes to the first selection, Karyn held up a teal silk charmeuse, her first choice. “Or this.”

Gloriana flipped through the rest of the gowns, their metal hangers zinging along the rack. “These won’t work.”

Karyn stared at her. “None of them?”

“I believe you have excellent hearing, Karyn.”

“Maybe if you try on the teal—”

“Call Lorenzo. Have him send over more.”

“It’s two days before Christmas, Glori. That’s not a request we can make. And you know if he had more that he thought would work, he would’ve sent more.”

Gloriana spun toward Karyn. “Are you telling me no?”

“You said it would take an hour of my time. I have other clients to help today and a plane to catch.” Karyn held up the two gowns she’d selected. “Either of these would be perfect for the cover. Choose.”

Gloriana stalked to the closest mirror. “I can’t do the shoot now. Look at my face. It’s all blotchy!”

Karyn’s stomach churned so violently she could hardly swallow. Stupid. She’d been so stupid. And yet it was all so silly to her, absolutely inane, to be rejecting perfectly beautiful gowns on a whim. So much was more important in the world.

But she’d never been rude to any of her clients, even when they’d provoked her enough to deserve rudeness in return. She prided herself on her self-control.

“I apologize,” Karyn said. “But I still can’t do what you ask.”

“I’m going to cut you some slack,” Glori said, coming up close, “since I know this is a hard time of year for you. You’ve been blunt, so I will be, too. I strongly recommend you take some time off and figure out if this is what you want to do because more and more I have observed that you’ve lost enthusiasm for it. Get back to painting, which you’ve been saying for years that you wanted to do.”

Karyn couldn’t do anything but nod. Her burning throat had closed tighter. She could barely breathe.

Gloriana cupped Karyn’s arm, which just about undid her. No one touched her these days.

“You’ve stopped talking about friends,” Glori said. “Or about going places and doing things, the way you did when you first came to work for me. I see in you what happened to me. You’ve stopped caring. Maybe you’ve stopped trusting, too. You feel abandoned by your brother, even though he didn’t die by choice. I know what that’s like. And, no, I’m not going to explain that. Just trust that I’m telling you the truth.

“Now, you can be like me and hide behind roles, or you can rediscover yourself and enjoy the life your brother would want you to have. But make up your mind, Karyn. Don’t let grief swallow you up anymore.”

Karyn nodded her head several times, was tempted to hug the woman yet wouldn’t be the one to instigate it, but then Gloriana walked away, the moment gone.

Karyn wanted to find joy again, to live the life Kyle would want for her, that she wanted for herself, but she didn’t know how to change it. She was hungry to share the news with someone, anyone, that he might have a daughter, and she wanted to meet her and hold her and love her, as he would’ve done if he’d known. She couldn’t tell anyone yet. Not even her parents, who still couldn’t talk about Kyle, even when Karyn tried to get them to open up about him and share their memories.

By rote, Karyn delivered her final purchases then drove home and packed her suitcase. Finished, she sank to the bed, shaking.

“I can’t do this,” she said, her face in her hands. She’d rather be alone than live through another Christmas like the three previous ones with her parents.

She didn’t hesitate another second but canceled her flight then called her mother—and lied.