Simmer Down

muttered to Doug. Why did my family have to turn every event into a great big fat family reunion? Seated at the table, with bemused expressions on their faces, were Owen and Adrianna, with both of my parents and Heather and Ben and Walker and, incredibly, baby Lucy. What twenty-five-year-old wants to spend New Year’s Eve with her family? Her entire family! And what had possessed Heather and Ben to bring the kids here? Of all the nights not to get a babysitter! Walker was seated in a booster chair and hanging sideways off the arm clutching a blue train. A giant bowl of Cheerios sat in front of him, which led me to believe that at least my sister wasn’t going to ask to see a children’s menu.
    “Surprise!” My mother beamed at the family’s success in having snuck in here without my knowledge.
    “Yeah. Surprise!” I smiled weakly. “I had no idea.”
    No idea that I’d be doomed to celebrate the New Year’s Eve opening of Simmer by laboring to make conversation with my relatives. So much for a night of ogling my boyfriend in an alcohol-induced haze. Now I really needed a drink.

SIXTEEN

    ADE had done her best to rescue me by saving two seats between hers and Owen’s for Doug and me. At least I wasn’t pinned between my parents. Doug immediately grabbed the seat next to Adrianna’s boyfriend.
    I scooted in next to Ade and whispered, “Did you know they were coming?”
    She stifled a laugh. “No. I swear I didn’t. Holidays with the Carters. Who knew?”
    “We just had dinner together the other night! I wanted tonight to be about Josh. Well, Josh and me. Anything but a night with my entire family staring at me and analyzing my relationship. Can I have a sip of that?” Without waiting for an answer, I picked up Adrianna’s glass of wine. It looked untouched, but I didn’t care whether it was or not; I needed a quick gulp.
    “So you must be Doug?” Heather introduced herself and the rest of the nut jobs at the table. I wasn’t sure if I was dreading an evening with my family because they irritated me on an individual basis or if it was the collective group of them that had the capacity to drive me insane. Well, I reasoned, dinner would last only so long, and I would still find some alone time with Josh late tonight.
    For reasons beyond me, Heather had tied a gigantic red silk scarf into a headband and sat across from me with a mammoth bow on top of her head.
    “What are you? Cindy Lou Who?” I couldn’t help myself. “You look like you hopped right out of a Dr. Seuss book.”
    “Lovely to see you, too, my dear sister.” She lifted a glass of what looked suspiciously like a martini to her mouth.
    “Heather! You’re still nursing! You shouldn’t be drinking,” I scolded, looking at Lucy to see whether the baby was intoxicated—although how anyone could tell, I had no idea, since babies had no muscle control to begin with.
    “Your sister stopped nursing this morning,” Ben informed me. “And now she’s drunk.”
    “That is correct. I am.” Heather reached into her glass and removed an olive, which she peered at intently for a moment before throwing it up in the air and catching it in her mouth. “And it’s wonderful.” She smiled happily.
    Oh, goody! With one sister loaded, no one would notice if I had a few too many drinks myself. Better yet, with any luck, Heather would make a spectacle of herself for the rest of the night and leave me alone. On second thought, if she did anything to ruin the night for Josh, I’d kill her.
    “Look, there’s Dora.” Adrianna pointed to the entrance.
    “With Barry and Sarka,” I said as the couple entered behind Dora.
    Gavin was politely shaking Barry’s hand while at the same time gloating over his acquisition of the prime Newbury Street spot that Barry had coveted, or so I suspected. Dora was monstrously overdressed in a long ivory gown with sequined patches—tacky, if you asked me, but it was probably some Badgley Mishka million-dollar design. Gavin showed the trio to a small table in the center of the restaurant.
    “So, Doug, tell us,” my father began, “as one of the few male students at social work school, you must be quite busy dating, I would guess. Anyone special?” Dad smiled innocently.
    “No, not at the moment. Although”—Doug stood up and took his jacket off to display his T-shirt—“I’m keeping my options open.”
    My family leaned in and slowly read his shirt. I watched their faces as the realization sank