Family Happiness by Laurie Colwin

time struggled to conceal it.
    â€œHello, there,” said Martha. “I’ve been pounding on your door.”
    â€œI was a little distracted,” Polly said.
    â€œYou’re a lot distracted, it looks like. What’s up?”
    â€œMy brother Paul is getting married.”
    â€œReally! He’s pretty old, isn’t he? Who’s he marrying?”
    â€œSomebody nobody knows,” Polly said. “This is a real bolt from the blue. My family likes to gather on every occasion, so we’re gathering.”
    â€œMy family can’t stand it when they’re all in the same room,” said Martha. “I can’t remember any family occasion on which we didn’t have a fight. I’m not sure whether I think you’re lucky or not.”
    â€œIt’s nice to have a united family,” Polly said.
    â€œIt sounds like living hell to me,” said Martha. “But now, for instance. Do you like your brother Paul? Everything you say about him makes him sound awful. You say he’s silent and preachy and everyone is scared of him.”
    It had never really occurred to Polly to ask herself whether she liked her brother Paul or any other member of her family. They were family . They were not judged by the standards you might apply to other people.
    â€œHe’s my brother,” said Polly. “I love him.”
    â€œA beautiful sentiment,” Martha said. “I quote my old dad, who says that everything is relative except relatives, who are constant.”
    â€œAnother beautiful sentiment,” said Polly. “Now I have to run five hundred errands, and I’ve got to meet a friend, and I’ve got to go to the liquor store and the cheese shop and the bakery.”
    â€œQuite a little schedule,” Martha said. “Big family dinner party?”
    â€œThey’re all big.”
    â€œIf you need any help,” said Martha, “just ask. I could run an errand for you. I like to help out a person who likes their family and, as you can imagine, this leaves me with lots of time on my hands.”
    By the time Polly met Lincoln for lunch she was wilted. She had rushed out of the office, rushed back because she had forgotten to call Henry about the brandy, remembered that she was going to get the brandy herself, and rushed out again. The bakery was jammed and so was the cheese store. Still, she had five minutes to spare, so she bought two pounds of salted almonds, the only hors d’oeuvre of which Wendy approved. Lincoln was waiting for her in front of the Sublime Salad Works.
    â€œLook at you,” said Lincoln. “You didn’t wait for me. You’ve done all your errands and now I have nothing to carry in my teeth.”
    â€œI ought to buy some cigars and an extra bottle of champagne. And I have to get a bottle of brandy after lunch,” Polly said. “This was so nice of you, to come up here and have lunch with me.”
    â€œIt’d better be worth it,” said Lincoln. “Is this Sublime Salad Works as sublime as its name?”
    â€œIt’s convenient,” Polly said. “That is, if you can get the waitress to take your order. They’re all art students and actresses.”
    The Sublime Salad Works was crowded, but Polly and Lincoln managed to squeeze into an uncomfortable table for two. When the waitress finally appeared, it turned out she had forgotten her pad, and when she came back she had forgotten where she had put her pencil and was forced to borrow a conte crayon from Lincoln, who had made a stop at the art-supply shop. Polly ordered the Swiss Health, which was described on the menu as “A life-affirming medley of low-calorie Swiss cheese, a piquant julienne of hearty beet, tender carrot, and powerful high-energy dressing.” Lincoln ordered the Sublime Works, a salad that included crab meat. Eventually the waitress brought Polly a Chef’s Salad and Lincoln the Egg Salad