Rogue

“Then we won't tie it so tight. Grampa always wears a tie, and Jack is wearing one today.”

“Daddy never wears a tie,” Sam countered with a look of pain.

“Yes, he does.” Maxine held firm. Blake looked great in a suit. “He does when he goes out.”

“Not anymore.”

“Well, you have to on Thanksgiving. And don't forget to get your loafers out.” She knew that otherwise, he would want to wear his running shoes to lunch at his grandparents'. As he went back to his own room to get his tie and shoes, Daphne appeared in the doorway in a short black miniskirt, black stockings, and high heels. She had come to her mother's room to borrow another sweater, her favorite pink one, and tiny diamonds sparkled in her pierced ears. Maxine had given them to her for her thirteenth birthday and allowed her to have her ears pierced. Now she wanted a second set of holes in her ears. “Everyone” had two pierces at least at school. So far Maxine hadn't given in, and her daughter looked lovely with her dark hair brushed softly around her face. Maxine handed over the pink sweater, just as Sam walked in with his shoes and a mystified expression.

“I can't find my tie,” he said, looking pleased.

“Yes, you can. Go back and look again,” Maxine said firmly.

“I hate you,” he said, the expected response, as Maxine got into her suit, slipped into high heels, and put pearl earrings on.

Half an hour later, they were all dressed, both boys had their ties on, with ski parkas over their blazers, and Daphne was wearing a short black coat with a little fur collar that Blake had given her for her birthday. They looked neat, respectable, and well dressed, and walked the short distance down Park Avenue to their grandparents' apartment. Daphne wanted to take a cab, but Maxine said the walk would do them good. It was a beautiful sunny November day, and the children were all looking forward to their father's arrival that afternoon. He was flying in from Paris, and they were due at his apartment in time for dinner. Maxine had agreed to go along. It would be nice to see Blake.

The doorman at her parents' apartment building wished them all a happy Thanksgiving as they got into the elevator. Maxine's mother was waiting for them at the door when they got out. She looked strikingly like Maxine, in an older, slightly heavier version, and Maxine's father was standing just behind her with a broad smile.

“My, my,” he said kindly, “what a good-looking group you are.” He kissed his daughter first, shook hands with the boys, while Daphne kissed her grandmother, and then smiled at her grandfather, while he gave her a hug.

“Hi, Grampa,” she said softly, and they followed their grandparents into the living room. Their grandmother had done several beautiful arrangements of fall flowers, and the apartment looked as neat and elegant as ever. Everything was impeccable and in good order, and the children sat down politely on the couch and chairs. They knew that at their grandparents' house they had to behave. Their grandparents were kind and loving, but they weren't used to having that many children around at once, particularly boys. Sam sneaked a deck of cards out of his pocket, and he and his grandfather started a game of Go Fish! while Maxine and her mother went out to the kitchen to check on the turkey. Everything had been meticulously set out and prepared— gleaming silver, immaculately pressed linens, the turkey was all cooked, and the vegetables were cooking. Sharing Thanksgiving was a tradition they all loved. Maxine always enjoyed visiting with her parents. They had been supportive of her all her life, and particularly so since her divorce from Blake. They had liked him, but thought he had been over the top ever since his big win in the dot-com boom. The way he lived now was entirely beyond their understanding. They worried about his influence on the children, but had been relieved to see that Maxine's solid values and constant attention had continued to ground them. They were crazy about their grandchildren and loved having them come to visit and sharing holidays with them.

Maxine's father was still busy with his practice, teaching and still attending surgeries of special cases, and he was extremely proud of his daughter with her own medical career. When she had decided to go to medical school and follow in his footsteps, it had pleased him no end. He was a little startled by her decision to specialize in psychiatry, a world he knew little about, but he was impressed by the career and reputation she had forged for herself in her field. He had proudly given away many copies of both of her books.