Claire LaZebnik - Knitting Under the Influence

Sam greeted the rest of the family as he circled around the table, kissing the air close to all the women's cheeks and shaking all the men's hands. “Just wanted to say hello,” he said when he reached Kathleen and Kevin. He and Kevin shook hands. “Kathleen,” he said with a nod of greeting. Apparently she didn't rate an air kiss.

“Oh, right,” Kevin said, leaning back in his seat to include them both. “I forgot-you two already know each other. You're how we got Kathleen.”

“I’m how she came to work at Porter and Wachtell,” Sam said. “You got her all on your own, buddy.”

Kevin smiled.

Sam said, “You must be proud of your father this evening.” Kathleen was so used to his armchair insults that it was a surprise to realize he could actually be as polished as the next guy when he was out at a social function.

“I am,” Kevin said. “I absolutely am.”

Sam raised his hand. “Have fun, kids,” he said and walked away. He shook a couple more hands and cuffed a few more shoulders before returning to Table Eight, where he sat down next to a young woman with roughly cropped hair that was dyed a bright copper orange. The girl immediately leaned over and whispered in his ear.

Kathleen stared at them. She had been living under Sam's apartment for several months but had never once seen a female go in or out-and here he was at a major social event with a total babe.

A waiter placed a salad in front of her, blocking her view. She quickly devoured the small salad, and then noticed that none of the other women at her table had eaten theirs.

She felt Kevin's hand on her leg under the table and smiled at him. He turned and said, “Hey, Mom, did you know that Kathleen's a triplet and her two sisters are movie stars?”

“How nice,” Caro said, and raised her wineglass to her lips.

“Yeah,” Kevin said. “Christa and Kelly Winters. They're huge.”

“Really?” Caro said. “How interesting.”

From her other side, the sister-in-law in red said, “I’ve heard of them.”

“Have you?” Kathleen said.

“Yes. My little girl made me take her to one of their movies once.” One eyebrow was crooked derisively, daring Kathleen to ask her whether she liked it, but Kathleen knew better and was silent.

The waiters cleared the salad plates. Kathleen shifted restlessly in her seat. She looked over at Sam's table. He was saying something to the girl next to him. She tilted her head in consideration, and long, heavy earrings flashed at her neck. A few minutes later, Sam rose to his feet and moved across the room. He stopped at a table to talk to someone.

Kathleen pushed her own chair back abruptly. “I need to go to the ladies’ room,” she said.

“Do you know where it is?” Kevin said.

“I’ll find it.”

He rose as she stood up. He was polite that way.

She said, “Excuse me,” to the rest of the table, but no one seemed to notice.

She made her way across the room, and after Sam had finished chatting with the people at Table Twenty-seven, she darted forward and cut him off before he could go back to his own seat.

“Kathleen,” he said and gave her a quick up and down look. “Nice dress.”

“Why didn't you just tell me you were coming to this, you jerk?”

“You didn't ask. Are you having a good time?”

“It's okay. You let me go on and on this morning-”

“How much wine have you had?” he asked.

“I don't know. A glass or two.” Or three or four. “Why?”

“You look drunk. Your face is red.”

“Whatever,” she said. “You certainly look like you're enjoying yourself.”

“Do I?”

“Who's the girl at your table?”

“The girl?”

“Sitting next to you. With the bright orange hair-she's kind of hard to miss.”

“Oh, her. Beautiful, isn't she? She usually comes with me to these kinds of things. Takes pity on an old man.”

“What's her name?”

“Joanna,” he said and Kathleen could have kicked him. Or herself. Joanna was his daughter. She had seen a couple of photos of her around his apartment, but they were all at least several years old, and most of them were of her as a little girl. And she didn't have copper hair in any of them. Kathleen had stupidly assumed she was still an adolescent with undyed hair.

She glared at him. “Why didn't you just say that in the first place?”

“And ruin your excitement? You were so sure you had discovered some hidden scandal in my life-ancient Sam with his little thing-on-the-side.”

“You're not married,” Kathleen said. “You can't have a thing-on-the-side.”

“Whatever,” he said, just like she'd said it a few seconds earlier. Making fun of her.

“Can I meet her?”

“If you like.” He led the way back to his table.

Up close, Kathleen could see a tiny bit of a resemblance-her nose was long, like his, and she was thin like him, too. She was prettier, though, than you would have expected Sam's daughter to be-not that he wasn't a handsome-enough man in his own hawky, severe way, but she had a delicacy about her features that definitely came from some other source.

Sam introduced Kathleen, and Joanna said, “Oh, the girl who's staying downstairs.” Her eyes were light blue-another surprise, since Sam's were so dark-and heavily made up in shades of bright green. Her ears were pierced in four different places. The tarty look suited her, made her look oddly more innocent underneath it all. It helped that she was so young. She gestured at the room. “This is nice, isn't it?”

“Kathleen is here because she cares so deeply about the cause,” Sam said. “Have you figured out what it is yet, Kathleen?”

She shrugged. “Something about poor kids.”

‘”Something about poor kids’?” he repeated with a snort.

“Don't let him get to you,” Joanna said. “He's always trying to make me feel like a moron, too.”

A woman on the other side of Sam's chair cleared her throat, and he stepped back to include her. “Oh, excuse me. Kathleen Winters, Patricia Kaplan.”

“Also known as my mother,” Joanna put in helpfully.

Patricia held out a beautifully manicured hand, and Kathleen shook it, a little surprised. She hadn't realized Sam still saw his ex-wife socially. “How nice to meet you,” Patricia said. She was a handsome woman, an older version of Joanna, really, with a smaller build and a more elegant presentation. She wore her honey-blond hair in a simple twist at the back of her neck. “Sam was just telling us about your apartment.”

“He said you don't have any furniture and you play soccer on the empty floor,” Joanna added.

“It's not as crazy as it sounds. I didn't know how long I’d be there so I never really moved in. And with all that extra space-”

“Might as well play ball?” Joanna said with a grin.

“I should have gotten a security deposit from you,” Sam said to Kathleen. “It just occurred to me you're probably destroying the floors. I’ll have to get them refinished.”

“They're fine.” She had no idea if that was true or not-she wasn't the kind of person who went around examining floors for scratches.

Several waiters converged on the table with trays of food.

“I should go back,” Kathleen said, and the women said goodbye.

Sam walked a few steps with her. Kathleen looked across the room. Back at her table, Jackson was shaking his head with an impatient frown at something the oldest brother was saying, and the middle brother was looking triumphant. Caro was smiling pleasantly at a distant wall sconce. The sister-in-law in black had completely turned her back on Kevin, who was playing with his fork, pushing down on the turned-up tines so the other end rose up like a seesaw.