Chapter 114

“The living room is this way, Mark. We’ll take the shortcut through the wet bar.” And while I was there, I’d put the champagne on ice.

Mark walked on ahead of me, and then halted in the doorway. I wondered if he saw the living room the way I always had.

To the left would be the grand piano Mother told me had stood on that spot since before she was born. At the far end of the room were the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the veranda and beyond to the paths that led to various parts of the farm. Scattered around the room would be couches, loveseats, and comfortable armchairs. The Oriental rug that covered most of the hardwood floor would be rolled up, because after the ball dropped and we’d had the obligatory glass of champagne, we would waltz to “Auld Lang Syne,” Jeff with Ludo, Bryan with his wife Johanna, on those occasions when she’d deign to join us, and the rest of us taking turns with Mother.

“Impressive tree,” Mark murmured. “And I thought yours was big.”