Free Hot Flash Holidays by Nancy Thayer Page B

gifts, Champagne, and laughter. Teddy and Lila served a veritable Christmas feast, Ruth and her great-granddaughter formed a mutual admiration society, and Faraday charmed everyone, as usual, with humorous anecdotes.
    Only Eugenie, Lila’s mother, cast a pall on the party. Always aloof, tonight she was especially remote, and no wonder. Poor Eugenie had had the face-lift from hell. She looked like a melted Madame Tussaud’s mannequin. Marilyn could only imagine how horrible this must be for Eugenie, whose extraordinary feminine perfection had been a living advertisement for her ex-husband’s plastic surgery business.
    In the car on the way back to Marilyn’s condo, Faraday said, “It was a grand party.”
    “My, yes,” Ruth agreed. “Delicious food. And I got to have some time with my great-granddaughter.”
    Marilyn leaned forward, resting her arms on the back of the front seat. “What did you think of Lila’s mother?”
    Ruth took a moment to think. “Well, Eugenie’s an unusual woman. She reminds me of the Portuguese man-of-war jellyfish. Beautiful, diaphanous, and poisonous.”
    “She was even more beautiful before she had that botched face-lift,” Marilyn said.
    Ruth yawned. “Well, beauty is only kin deep.”
    Back at Marilyn’s condo, Faraday insisted on escorting the women inside, carrying their bags of presents for them.
    “It was a lovely evening.” Ruth turned to Faraday. “Thank you for everything.”
    “Yes, Faraday,” Marilyn echoed, “thank you.”
    But Faraday showed no intention of leaving. “How about a little nightcap?”
    Marilyn hesitated. She was yearning to crawl into bed with her new book on plate tectonics.
    “You two youngsters can stay up, but I’m going to bed. Good night, Fairy.” Ruth leaned over to kiss Marilyn on the cheek. “Good night, dear. Merry Christmas.”
    “Merry Christmas, Mother,” Marilyn said.
    Marilyn and Faraday watched Ruth toddle away down the hall.
    Marilyn stifled a yawn. “I don’t know if I’m up for a nightcap. I’ve had so much to drink tonight. All that Champagne. How about a cup of tea?”
    “Actually, I don’t want anything else to drink, either,” Faraday told her. “I just wanted a little private time with you.”
    Marilyn’s heart sank.
    Faraday took her hand and led her to the sofa. Once they were comfortably seated side by side, he told her, “I have another present for you, Marilyn.”
    Reaching down, he unfastened the metal lid of his sporran.
    And brought out a small black velvet box.
    “Marilyn,” Faraday said, his beautiful blue eyes shining. “Will you marry me?”
    A hot flash that would have propelled a missile to the moon exploded inside Marilyn’s body. She flushed from her belly straight up to the top of her head.
    “Oh!” she cried, jumping up. “Hot flash, Faraday, excuse me!” She raced from the room.
    In her bedroom, she ripped off her clothes. In her bra and panties, she went into the bathroom, ran the cold water tap, and stood over the sink, pressing cool water onto her face, letting it drizzle down her neck and shoulders. The intense sense of irritation that usually accompanied her hot flashes was multiplied by a power of ten right now. She felt wildly, almost
violently,
insane.
    She gulped cold water from her hands. Soaked a wash-cloth with cold water and pressed it against the back of her neck. And cursed under her breath.
    Damn Faraday! How could he
propose
to her! It made her feel so
cornered.
As her body temperature dropped back into the normal range, her emotions remained on Emergency Alert.
    Why was she so panicked? Marilyn asked herself.
    Because Faraday had pressed her into an existential corner. She cared for him. She enjoyed his company. She admired him. She shared common interests with him. But never in her life had she experienced that sweeping sense of falling in love so much praised by her Hot Flash friends. Not with Faraday, not with her husband Theodore, not even with that cad Barton,