Elin Hilderbrand - Winter Stroll

Reluctantly, Isabelle hands the baby over to Mitzi. Mitzi says, “Oh, sweetheart, peanut, look at you. You are such a darling, yummy baby, just like your Uncle Bart used to be.”

Somehow Genevieve stops crying for a second. She studies the unfamiliar face and voice of the woman who is now holding her. Then, she starts crying again-louder now, if that’s even possible.

Kelley says, “I’ll hold her.”

Mitzi says, “I thought she’d like me. Babies usually like me.”

“It has nothing to do with like or not like,” Kevin says. “She’s tired.”

“She needs a nap,” Isabelle says.

Kevin really wants to get this lunch moving along, but to do so, he needs the rest of his family. Where is everyone?

Margaret and Drake enter next. Margaret makes a beeline for the table with her scarf covering most of her face, her sunglasses on, and her head bent, but still a murmur rolls through the restaurant like a wave. Margaret Quinn.

Margaret reaches for the baby. “Come to Mimi.”

Kelley takes the baby from Mitzi and hands her to Margaret. The baby howls.

Mitzi says, “She won’t stop crying for Margaret either.”

Margaret seems to take this as a challenge. She flips Genevieve into the “football hold.” Genevieve is facing the ground while Margaret’s arms support her lengthwise. “This used to work with Kevin,” she says.

Still, Genevieve screams. Kevin takes a seat at the head of the table; he feels like the ruler of a revolting nation. Isabelle sits next to Kevin, even though Kevin can tell all she wants to do is grab Genevieve and take her back to the inn for a nap.

Why did they ever think this lunch would be a good idea?

He flags a waiter. “Can you bring us some bread, please?” he asks. “And I’d love a beer.”

“Glass of chardonnay,” Mitzi says.

“Make that two,” Margaret says. She looks at Kevin. “Should I take her outside?”

“It’s too cold outside, Mom,” Kevin says. He turns to face the door. He needs Ava, Jennifer, and the boys to show up, pronto!

“Here,” Drake says, “let me hold her.”

Margaret hands Genevieve to Drake. This is getting absurd, Kevin thinks. It’s a game of Hot Potato. The only person who hasn’t held the baby is their waiter. But Genevieve calms down in Drake’s arms; he’s rubbing the base of her scalp with two fingers.

“The baby whisperer,” Margaret says.

Drake operates on babies; he probably has more experience with infants than all of the rest of them put together. Once Genevieve is sucking in raggedy breaths, Drake lowers her into Isabelle’s arms.

Ahhhhhh. Everyone at the table visibly relaxes.

Margaret says, “I don’t want to distract from my granddaughter’s big day, but I have an announcement to make. I’ll tell you and then you can forget about it for a while.”

“Nice setup,” Kevin says. “What is it?”

“Drake and I are getting married.”

Kelley stands up to shake Drake’s hand. “Welcome to the family, Dr. Carroll. I heartily approve.”

“Well, it’s always good to get approval from the ex-husband,” Drake says, grinning.

“That’s wonderful news!” Mitzi says. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Margaret says. “It is wonderful news. Just please don’t tell anyone yet. I don’t want to see it on Page Six tomorrow morning. I’ll let my publicist know when I get back to New York.”

“I’m happy for you, Mom,” Kevin says. Their drinks arrive along with two baskets of warm rolls, scones, and crisp, delicate grissini. Kevin downs half his beer instantly and takes a giant bite of a cheesy scone. He’s starving . He has a toast prepared, but he wants to wait until everyone else arrives.

They sit in an increasingly awkward silence as they wait for Ava, Jennifer, and the boys. There are two extra seats at the table, meant symbolically for Patrick and Bart. This was Kevin’s idea. He misses his brothers. His whole life he has been defined by being squeezed between them. He had thought that with them gone, he might change into a different kind of person, but as it turns out, he’s exactly the same. He’s a lover, not a fighter, he wants peace more than money, and his greatest dream is a family of his own.

Kevin hears Jennifer before he sees her. She is shouting at Barrett, and when Kevin turns around, she’s pulling Barrett toward the table by the sleeve of his blazer.

“It does not smell funny in here,” Jennifer says. “You will sit and eat with our family.”

“ There are my handsome grandsons,” Margaret says diplomatically.

Pierce and Jaime take seats at the table without fanfare; Pierce even puts his napkin on his lap.

“This isn’t our family,” Barrett says. “This is Dad’s family, and Dad’s not even here .”

Kelley stands up and takes Barrett by the arm. “Outside,” he says. “Now.”

“But Grandpa,” Barrett says.

“Now,” Kelley says.

Jennifer collapses in a chair. “Chardonnay, please,” she says to the waiter. She drops her head in her hands. “I’ve had it with that kid. I have… had it.”

“I was worse when I was that age,” Kevin says. “I promise you.”

Jennifer tousles Jaime’s hair. He wriggles under her hand and excuses himself for the bathroom. Pierce gets up to follow him, and Jennifer says, “Not both of you at once.”

“But I have to go, too, ” Pierce says.

“Fine!” Jennifer says. “Go, then!” She turns back to the adults. “It’s just so hard doing everything by myself. For the past year, I’ve been their mother and their father. And I’m trying to build my business and generate income, in case Patrick doesn’t get hired right away when he gets out. It’s exhausting .” She looks at Kevin, Kelley, Margaret. “I need help. Can’t you people see that I need help? I know the kids play too many video games. I know they should be outside throwing the lacrosse ball, or I should be teaching them cribbage. I know I should be reading to Jaime at night. I read all seven Harry Potter books to Barrett and all three Hunger Games books to Pierce. The youngest always gets short shrift and it’s not fair. Is it any wonder he crawls into bed with me every night? He needs my attention and the only time he can get it is when I’m asleep.” Jennifer points at Genevieve, asleep in Isabelle’s arms. “I want that back. I want the cooing, the gummy smiles. I want them before they learn how to talk. I want them before they start to hate me.”

“Jennifer,” Margaret says, “they do not hate you.”

“Barrett does,” Jennifer says. “He wishes I had gone to jail instead of Patrick…”

“No,” Mitzi says.

“His words, verbatim,” Jennifer says. “And you know what I told Barrett? I told him that I would never be the one to go to jail because I would never, ever have made the thoughtless, morally corrupt choices that his father made.”

Whoa. Kevin-and everyone else at the table-sit in a stunned silence. Even Margaret, the woman who has a silver-tongued response for everything, is staring at Jennifer in a horrified stupor. Part of the surprise is how uncharacteristic this outburst is coming from Jennifer. The woman is so cool, so together. Kevin has always thought Patrick was lucky to have found Jennifer, but never more so than this past year when Jennifer stood by her man and somehow managed to keep their domestic life intact. She took the boys to lacrosse practice, she made chicken pot pie from scratch.

Jennifer’s voice is too loud for the restaurant. Tables around them have quieted and are, no doubt, listening in on the Quinn family drama. The waiter, perhaps thinking that Jennifer is complaining about the service, brings Jennifer’s wine and gives menus to everyone at the table.