The Perfect New Year's Eve by Annette Dashofy

The last time Zoe Chambers-Adams had worn a dress was at her wedding almost two years ago. That had been long and white. This one was short and red. And really really tight. 

Clutching a pair of brand-new red heels, she padded barefoot through her living room, pausing to check the mantle clock. Almost eight o’clock. She and her husband, Police Chief Pete Adams, were supposed to be at the New Year’s Eve party by nine. It was a good forty-five-minute drive to the hotel near the Pittsburgh Airport. 

And Pete wasn’t home yet. 

He’d texted her a half hour ago about a traffic collision. Compact car versus deer. The occupants were fine. The car and animal? Not so much. But Pete was helping direct traffic while the tow truck and fire department cleared the road. 

Don’t worry. I’ll be home in plenty of time. 

Zoe dropped onto her cushy sofa, let the shoes hit the floor with a thunk, and reminded herself it was a New Year’s Eve party. As long as they made it by midnight, all would be well. The friends they were meeting knew Pete was a cop and all that meant. And that Zoe was the county coroner, although she’d left the Coroner’s Office in capable hands tonight. She and her husband were rarely on time for anything. 

The crunch of gravel outside brought her to her feet. Good. Pete was home. Unlike the hour or more it took Zoe to get ready for a night out, Pete would be in and out of the shower and fully dressed within fifteen minutes. 

Merlin, one of her two ginger tabbies, streaked through the living room, away from the kitchen. His paws sounded like an elephant pounding up the stairs. Zoe tensed. Merlin would not bolt from Pete arriving home. Whoever had pulled into her driveway was not her husband. 

She moved into the threshold to the kitchen and waited. Footsteps stomped onto the porch followed by a sharp rap at the door. Zoe made out the silhouette through the sheer curtains hanging in the door’s window. A vaguely familiar feminine silhouette. She crossed the kitchen floor and unlocked the deadbolt. 

“Mom?” Zoe said, opening the door. “What are you doing here?” 

Kimberly Jackson burst inside attired in a lightweight trench coat and knee-high fashion boots—suitable for a “chilly” evening in St. Petersburg, Florida, but hardly appropriate for the twenty-two degrees Pennsylvania was experiencing. “My luggage is in the car,” she said. “Bring it in. Please.” 

Zoe leaned outside, looking toward the black luxury rental car parked next to her own Subaru. Looking for her stepfather. “Where’s Tom?” 

“I have no idea and, frankly, I don’t care.” Kimberly stood in the middle of the kitchen, taking in every detail before settling on Zoe. “Where did you get that outfit?” 

Zoe looked down at the form-fitting little red dress. “Online.” 

Kimberly scanned her, then shrugged. “It’s cute.” 

Zoe staggered. “Who are you, and what have you done with my mother?” 

“I’m just overjoyed to see you in something other than jeans and a sweatshirt.” 

And there she was. 

As if to reinforce her identity, Kimberly snapped her fingers. “My luggage. Go.” 

Zoe opened her mouth to argue but another realization struck her. “Luggage? You plan to stay here? In my house?” 

Kimberly sashayed into the living room and stood before the unlit fireplace. “It’s freezing in here. Why don’t you have a fire started?” 

“It’s not freezing.” Zoe followed her mother. “You just have thin Floridian blood. And we never have a fire lit when we aren’t going to be home.” 

“You’re not going to be home? Where are you going?” 

Zoe again looked down at her little red dress. “Uh, Mom, it’s New Year’s Eve. Pete and I are going to a party for county officials.” At Kimberly’s blank stare, Zoe added, “Of which I am one. I’m the coroner. Remember?” 

Her mother fluttered a dismissive hand. “You deal with dead people. Hardly a career worth bragging about. And I don’t think it counts as a county ‘official.’” 

Zoe pressed the heel of her hand into her forehead in an effort to keep her brain from exploding. 

Kimberly was on the move again, heading into the dining room where the staircase led to the second floor. “Nevertheless, you go on to your party. I know where the guest room is.” 

The guest room, which wasn’t made up and contained several pieces of furniture that Zoe and Pete had moved to make room for the tree and other decorations. “I didn’t know you were coming,” she called from the foot of the steps as she watched her mother disappear down the hallway at the top. 

“Bring in my luggage,” Kimberly called down. 

As Zoe backtracked to the kitchen, she calculated options. The nearest hotel was twenty miles away, but there were a couple of bed-and-breakfasts within five. What were the odds they’d have a room available on New Year’s Eve? 

She reached the door, pulled her Muck Boots on over bare feet, and shrugged into her barn coat just in time to see headlights turning into her driveway. 

Pete. 

Zoe stepped onto the porch and waited, pulling her collar up against the stiff winter breeze. The coat didn’t cover her legs, and she wondered how long before unprotected skin developed frostbite in twenty-degree weather? 

Pete parked on the far side of the black rental and was eyeing it as he came around it. He spotted Zoe and pointed. “Whose car is this?” 

“My mother’s. Can you grab her luggage out of it?” 

He stopped cold. Zoe could tell he was asking all the same questions as she had. Unlike her, he didn’t waste his breath putting them into words. Instead, he opened the trunk and dragged out two large suitcases. 

Holy crap. How long was her mother planning to stay? Zoe stepped inside the kitchen, shivered, and picked up her phone. She found Tom’s number and hit the green button. The call went directly to voicemail. Zoe swore. 

“What’s going on?” Pete asked as he banged through the door with the luggage. 

“I wish I knew. Mom showed up without Tom. He’s not answering his phone.” 

“And where is she?” 

“Last I saw, she was on her way to the guest room.” 

Pete’s gaze shifted over Zoe’s shoulder and from his expression, she knew Kimberly was back. 

“You can’t expect me to stay in that room the way it is,” she said before spotting her suitcases. “Oh, good. Thank you, Pete.” She gestured toward the ceiling. “Please take them upstairs.” To Zoe, she said, “And get all that junk out of my room. I hope the sheets are clean.” 

“Yes, they…” 

But Kimberly was ambling away again. 

Zoe looked at her husband. Pete was a cop who faced criminals on a daily basis—who had been shot and nearly died—but who looked utterly shellshocked. 

Kimberly had that effect on people. 

* 

Pete delivered his mother-in-law’s suitcases. What the heck did she have in there? A pair of baby elephants? Bellmen usually received tips for such service. He was ordered to remove the boxes and a pair of tables stored in the guest room. Once he had, the door slammed. 

“Happy New Year,” he grumbled. After shoving the stuff into his and Zoe’s room, he plodded downstairs to find his wife slumped on the sofa, a cat curled up next to her and her phone in hand. 

She looked up. “Tom still isn’t answering. I’ve left messages and texts. Nothing.” 

Pete took a seat beside her, opposite the cat. “You look amazing.” He’d taken notice of the sexy red dress and Zoe’s sexy long legs as soon as he’d gotten home, but the time hadn’t been right to say anything. 

“Thanks.” She sighed. “So much for the party. Maybe next year.” 

“Why? Your mother showed up unannounced.” And uninvited. “She’s a big girl. I’m sure she can manage on her own for the evening.” 

Zoe cocked an eyebrow. “This is Kimberly Jackson we’re talking about. She couldn’t be bothered to bring her own suitcases in from the car. You seriously think it’s safe to leave her alone in our house?” 

“In her defense, the suitcases weigh a ton. Plus…” He held up a finger. “She did manage to save your life during a blizzard a couple of years ago.” He held up another. “And she’s the one who gave us this house.” Granted it had taken months and months and many paychecks to make it livable. 

Zoe considered his words. “I admit, the way she rescued me in Erie during that snowstorm was amazing. And badass.” 

“It earned her a lot of extra brownie points where I’m concerned.” 

“But alone? Here? With no room service and no Tom? I don’t know.” 

Pete wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I do. I’m going upstairs to get a shower and put on my suit. We might be a little late, but we’ll be there well before midnight.” 

“Okay.” She smiled at him. “While you’re doing that, I’ll keep trying to reach Tom.” 

“Deal.” Pete gave his wife a quick kiss, rose from the sofa, and headed upstairs. 

As he reached the top step, he heard the unmistakable hiss of the shower running. The guest room door was open, and Kimberly wasn’t inside. 

He shook his head. They might be considerably later than he originally thought. 

* 

Zoe had her shoes and good coat arranged next to the door. Pete had let her know he had to wait until Kimberly cleared out of their lone bathroom before he could get his shower. That was almost an hour ago. 

The sound of footsteps on the upstairs floor and muffled voices filtered down to Zoe. She assumed this meant her mother was finally done in the bathroom. After yet another call to Tom went to voicemail, Zoe decided it was time to find out what the heck was going on. Steeling herself, she climbed the staircase. 

The guest room door was closed. She knocked lightly. 

Kimberly, wearing a fuzzy baby-blue robe, had her hair wrapped in a towel. Her face was barren of makeup, leading Zoe to realize she couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen her mother bare-faced. She also realized her mother’s eyes were red. She’d been crying.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” 

Kimberly puffed out her chest and lifted her chin. “Nothing. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to be alone.” 

“I do mind.” Zoe brushed past her into the room and turned to face her mother. “You show up unannounced at my house on New Year’s Eve. I feel I deserve an explanation.” 

“There’s nothing to explain.” Kimberly closed the door. “I’m getting a divorce.” 

Zoe’s knees weakened, and she dropped onto the bed. “What? Since when?” 

Kimberly’s shoulders drooped. “Since this morning.” 

This morning? “Okay. What happened?” 

Eyes gleaming, Kimberly crossed to the bed and sat next to Zoe. “Tom doesn’t love me anymore.” 

“He told you that?” 

“Love is a verb.” 

Zoe mulled that one over. It wasn’t the quote—she agreed with it—but the source was another matter. “What did he do? Or not do?” 

“He told me I was a spoiled child.” 

Zoe caught her lower lip between her teeth, biting down a little too hard, to keep from laughing. When she could speak without snickering, she asked, “What made him say that?” 

“He was insisting we go to an intolerably boring party tonight with some of the people he used to work with.” 

“Other than the boring part, what’s wrong with him wanting to go to a party with his friends? You’ve been married for almost thirty years. Surely you’ve spent time with them before.” 

“Exactly. I have. And I did not want to do it again. They were meeting at a restaurant. A casual restaurant.” 

Zoe remained silent. Casual sounded pretty good to her right now. 

Kimberly huffed. “It’s New Year’s Eve. A time to celebrate with Champagne and lobster. Not beer and fish and chips.” 

Which also sounded good to Zoe. 

Kimberly waved a hand at her. “Look at you. My beautiful daughter and her husband know what New Year’s Eve is all about.” She lowered her voice. “That dress is stunning, dear.” 

And yet here Zoe sat, in her guest room, watching her mother sob over life not going her way on this one evening instead of mingling with county politicians at the kind of party Kimberly would love. 

She must have read Zoe’s mind. “I’m keeping you from your night out, aren’t I? I’m sorry.” 

Kimberly rarely noticed or cared about anyone else’s feelings, even Zoe’s. And she never apologized. “It’s okay, Mom.” Zoe draped an arm around Kimberly’s shoulders. “To be honest, I’d rather stay home with you and Pete.” 

“Nonsense. You need to show off those legs.” Kimberly nudged Zoe and offered a hint of a smile. “I’ll be fine here alone.” 

Kimberly’s tone dropped on the word alone, and Zoe wondered if her mother would want to tag along with her and Pete. No one at the party would care. She was about to ask if Kimberly had perchance brought appropriate New Year’s Eve attire with her when the house echoed with a loud rap on the kitchen door downstairs. 

“Who on earth?” Zoe jumped up and padded out into the hall where Pete was coming out of the bathroom wearing his best suit, his salt-and-pepper hair still damp and slicked back. 

“More company?” he asked. 

“I don’t know.” She thumped down the stairs, her husband on her heels. At the kitchen door, she peered through the curtain-covered window before yanking it open. “Tom?” 

Her stepfather stood there, tall and ruggedly handsome as ever. His scowl softened into a smile at the sight of her. “Hi, Sweet Pea. Don’t you look beautiful.” He crossed the threshold and swept her into a hug. Once he released her, he faced Pete and shook his hand. “Clearly, I’ve interrupted a night out for you two.” The scowl returned. “Or, I assume, my wife did. That black car in your driveway is her rental, isn’t it?” 

“It is.” Zoe closed the door. “I’ve been trying to call you.” 

“Ah.” Tom pulled his phone from his coat pocket. “It’s been on airplane mode. I forgot to change it back once we landed.” 

Pete took Tom’s coat and hung it on the hall tree next to the door. “Do you mind telling us what on earth is going on?” 

“I was talking to Mom. She said she left because you wanted to go to a smaller New Year’s Eve party than she did.” Zoe crossed her arms. “I have to think there’s something more.” 

Tom lowered his head. “There is.” His face came up, but his voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t let on that I told you this, but your mother is having trouble coming to terms with…age.” 

Zoe kept her voice low as well. “She doesn’t like getting older? As a coroner, let me tell you, it beats the alternative.” 

Tom grinned, a dimple he’d had in his younger days now lost in a ripple of creases. “I agree. But she has a birthday coming up—a big one—and she’s not handling it well.” 

Zoe did some quick math. “Sixty? But she looks amazing. She could still pass for forty any day of the week.” 

Tom flung both hands up in exasperation. “I’ve told her that. But my desire to have a more relaxed, casual New Year’s Eve this year triggered her into thinking I didn’t want to show her off anymore.” 

Pete mumbled something that Zoe couldn’t hear. 

Her mind started whirling, building on her earlier thought. “I assume you brought luggage.” 

Puzzled, Tom aimed a thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “Just an overnight bag.” 

“So, you don’t have a suit.” 

“No.” 

She glanced from Tom to Pete and back. “You’re about the same size as Pete. Mom has two suitcases that, from the weight of them, must contain half of her wardrobe.” 

“Or they’re packed with bricks,” Pete said. 

“This is Mom, we’re talking about. If anything, they’re gold bars.” 

Tom snorted. 

“Anyway, assuming she has something dressy to wear, and one of Pete’s suits fit you, you’re both going to join us at the county government party.” 

“It’s ten o’clock,” Pete whispered. “By the time they get ready, it’ll be ten-thirty. Another half hour to drive to the hotel…” 

“Half hour to get ready?” Tom said. “Have you met my wife?” 

Pete shrugged. “As long as we get there by midnight, we’ll be fine.” 

* 

Zoe and Pete sat on the couch bookended by orange tabbies. Tom had gone upstairs twenty minutes ago. Raised voices filtered down through the floor to them at first, but for the last ten minutes all was quiet except for the soft thud of footsteps. 

Zoe kept watching the old mantle clock’s hands marking off the time. Making it to the party by midnight seemed optimistic. She would be perfectly happy ringing in the New Year right here—provided she could slip into her pajamas first. 

The footsteps moved to the stairs and started down them. Zoe watched the doorway, expecting to see Kimberly in a ball gown. Twenty minutes, though? That would be a new world record. 

Tom led the way, still wearing the long-sleeve polo shirt and khakis he’d arrived in. Kimberly, wearing an off-white tunic-style sweater over leggings, entered the living room behind him, her blond hair in a ponytail, her face still bare. 

Zoe couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother like this. She looked young enough to pass for Zoe’s sister instead of her mom. 

“We want to apologize for ruining your New Year’s Eve,” Tom said. 

Kimberly slipped her hand into his. “Let’s be honest. I was the one who ruined your New Year’s Eve.” She looked up at her husband. “Yours too. I’m sorry.” Her focus returned to Zoe and Pete. “I’m sorry to all of you.” 

“No apologies necessary,” Pete said. “But I gather you’ve decided against joining us at the party?” 

“We…I appreciate the offer.” Kimberly lowered her face. “However, we’ve decided we’d rather spend a quiet evening in.” 

Tom cleared his throat. “Provided you two don’t mind putting us up for the night. I’ve booked us a flight home for tomorrow.” 

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” Zoe said and meant it. This was a different side of her mother—one she would like to get to know. 

“I don’t think our old bones could tolerate the cold that long,” Tom said with a grin. 

Zoe looked at Pete who gave a nod. “This quiet evening in you mentioned,” she said. “Would you object to some company?” 

“Oh.” Kimberly appeared surprised. “I don’t want you to miss your party.” 

It was Pete’s turn to clear his throat. “I’m pretty sure I speak for both of us when I say we would prefer that quiet evening over a noisy party. We’re both always on call. Tonight, for once we’re covered at our jobs.” 

“You definitely speak for both of us,” Zoe said. 

Kimberly pointed at her. “But your dress. You look so beautiful.” 

Zoe shrugged. “I’ll save it for next year.” 

Pete leaned closer. “It’s red. You could wear it for Valentine’s Day.” 

Kimberly clapped. “Perfect, since that’s also your anniversary.” 

“Then it’s settled.” Zoe stood. “I’m going to put on my pajamas.” 

* 

Zoe snuggled against her husband on one end of the couch while Kimberly and Tom claimed the loveseat. Flames crackled in the fireplace, and the cats occupied the chair closest to it. Above the mantle, the television broadcast Times Square in New York where revelers packed to watch the ball drop. Two minutes until midnight. 

A bottle of Pinot Grigio and four wine glasses—wedding gifts from Kimberly and Tom—waited on a side table. 

“Hadn’t you better pour that?” Kimberly said, pointing. 

“You’re right.” Pete moved to the edge of the seat and reached for the wine. 

Zoe slid forward on the couch as well. “If I’d known this is what we’d be doing, I’d have bought a bottle of Champagne.” 

“Nonsense.” Tom rose and moved to help. “Sometimes simpler is better.” He shot a look at his wife. “Right, darling?” 

Kimberly smirked. “I’ve already admitted you were right. Stop pushing.” 

With the wine poured and glasses in hand, they all stood to watch the countdown. 

“Five…four…three…two…one,” they chanted in unison. “Happy New Year!” 

After clinking glasses and sipping, they exchanged hugs. 

Kimberly held onto Zoe longer than usual. “Thank you,” she whispered to her daughter. 

“For what?” 

Kimberly gently grasped Zoe’s arms, drawing her away but not releasing her. “For letting us have this time together instead of turning me away at the door.” 

“I would never—” 

Kimberly cut her off with a shake of her head. “I know you wouldn’t, but you had every right to. I truly am sorry.” She looked at Tom, who was smiling at them. “Well, maybe not too sorry. To be honest, this is the nicest New Year’s Eve I can remember.” 

“Me too,” Zoe admitted. She held up her glass. “To a quiet, simple New Year for all of us.” 

“Cheers to that,” Tom said as they again clinked. 

Kimberly leaned over and pressed a kiss to Zoe’s cheek. “Happy New Year, Zoe.” 

“Happy New Year, Mom.”

 

The End