In this beguiling new novel, Danielle Steel tells the story of three very different people, each of whom, on the day that, reaches a crucial turning point in life-a rite both bittersweet and filled with hope, a period to blow out the candles, say goodbye to the past, and make a want the near future.
Valerie Wyatt may be the queen of gracious living and the arbiter of taste. Since her long-ago divorce, she’s worked hard to reach the pinnacle of her profession and to create a camera-ready life in her own Fifth Avenue penthouse. So why is she so depressed? All the hours together with her personal trainer, the careful work of recent York’s best hairdressers, cosmetic surgeons, and her very own God-given bone structure and great looks can’t fudge the reality or her lies about it: Valerie is turning sixty.
Valerie’s daughter, April, has no sex life, no rest, with no prospect of this changing in the future. Her popular one-of-a-kind restaurant in downtown Ny, where she's chef and owner, consumes every ounce of her attention and energy. Ready or otherwise, though, April’s every day life is going to change, in a tumultuous transformation that begins the morning it hits her: She’s thirty. And exactly what does she need to show for it? A restaurant, no man, no kids.
Jack Adams once threw a football just like a guided missile. Twelve years after retiring in the NFL, he's the most charismatic sports analyst on television, a man that has his pick of the very desirable twentysomething women. But after a particularly memorable Trick or treat, Jack wakes up on his fiftieth birthday, his back thrown out of whack, feeling each year his age.
A terrifying act of violence, an out-of-the-blue blessing, and 2 extremely unlikely love affairs soon turn lives inside out and inverted. In a novel filled with warmth and insight, beginning on one birthday and ending on another, Valerie, April, and Jack discover that life itself can be a celebration-and that it is greatest gifts will always be an unexpected.
Chapter 1
November first was a day Valerie Wyatt dreaded every year, or at best for the last two decades, since she turned forty. She'd successfully staved off the potential ravages of time, with no one that saw her might have guessed that they had turned sixty when she woke up that morning. She had been discreetly shedding years for some time and it was easy to believe her creativity about her age. People magazine had recently said she was fifty-one years of age, which was bad enough. Sixty was beyond thinking and she or he was grateful that everybody appeared to have forgotten the right number. Valerie did everything she could to confuse them. She'd had her eyes done for the first time when she turned forty nevertheless fifteen years later. The results were excellent. She looked rested and fresh, as though she had been on a terrific vacation. She'd had the surgery done in L.A. throughout a summer hiatus. She had also had her neck done when she was fifty, giving her a smooth, youthful neckline without any sag anywhere, and her cosmetic surgeon agreed that they didn't require a full face-lift. She had great bones, good skin, and also the eye and neck work had given her the result she wanted. Botox shots four times annually added to her youthful looks. Daily exercise and a trainer three times per week kept her long, lean body toned and unmarked by age. If she'd desired to, she might have claimed to be in her forties, but she didn't want to seem ridiculous, and was content to knock nine years off her age. People also knew that she had a thirty-year-old daughter, so she couldn't stretch the reality too far. Fifty-one worked.
It took time, effort, maintenance, and cash to maintain her appearance. It served her vanity, but it seemed to be important for her career. Valerie had been the number-one guru of fashion and gracious living throughout a thirty-five-year career. She'd started as a writer for any decorating magazine when she got out of college, and she or he had turned it into a powerful dedication. She was our prime priestess of methods to entertain and for everything that went on in the home. She'd licensing arrangements for fine linens, furniture, wallpaper, fabrics, exquisite chocolates, and a line of mustards. She'd written six books on weddings, decorating, and entertaining coupled with a show that had one of the highest ratings on television. She had planned three White House weddings when presidential daughters and nieces got married, and her book on weddings had been number one around the Ny Times nonfiction list for fifty-seven weeks. Her arch-competitor was Martha Stewart, but Valerie is at a category unto herself, although she'd always had deep respect on her rival. These were the two most important women within their field.
Valerie lived exactly the way she preached. Her Fifth Avenue penthouse, with a sweeping view of Central Park, and an important collection of contemporary art, looked camera ready all the time and so did she. She was obsessed with beauty. People desired to live the way she told them to, women desired to look the way in which she did, and girls wanted a wedding just the way Valerie might have tried it, or as she instructed these phones do on her show as well as in her books. Valerie Wyatt was a household name. She was a beautiful woman, were built with a fabulous career, and lived a golden life. The one thing missing in her own life was a man, and she or he hadn't been associated with anyone in three years. The thought of that depressed her that morning too. Regardless of how good she looked, the age on her license was what it really was, and who'd desire a woman of sixty? Even men within their eighties wanted girls in their twenties now. With this birthday, Valerie felt she had become obsolete. It wasn't a pleasant thought, and she or he wasn't happy today.
She looked within the mirror intently as she prepared to leave her apartment that morning. She did not have to be in the studio until noon for a taping, and she or he had two appointments before that. She hoped the first one would cheer her up. And the only thing keeping her from the major anxiety attack was that a minimum of no one knew her right age. But she was depressed anyway. She was relieved the image she saw within the mirror reassured her that her life wasn't over yet. She wore her blond hair inside a chic well-cut bob that framed her face, and had it colored regularly. She never had roots. It was exactly the same color it always have been, and her figure was superb. She carefully selected a red wool coat in the closet to place over the short black dress she was wearing that displayed her spectacular long legs, and she was wearing sexy high heels from Manolo Blahnik. It was an excellent look and could be elegant and fashionable when she taped her show later on that day.
The doorman hailed a cab on her when she left the apartment and she gave the driver an address on the Upper West Side. It had been inside a seedy neighborhood, and she noticed the motive force looking at her admiringly within the rearview mirror. She was pensive because they sped through Central Park. The weather in New York had turned chilly two weeks before, the leaves had turned, and the last of them were falling off the trees. The red wool coat she was wearing looked and felt perfect. Valerie was searching the window of the cab because the radio droned on, plus they exited from the park on the West Side. And then she felt an electrical current tell you her as she heard the announcer's voice.
"My, my, my, I never would have believed it, and I'll bet you will not either. She looks terrific on her age! Guess who's turning sixty today? Valerie Wyatt! This is definitely an unexpected! Great work, Valerie, you don't look each day over forty-five." She believed the announcer had just punched her within the stomach. Hard! She couldn't accept is as true. The way the hell did he know? Their researchers must check DMV records, she thought with a sinking feeling. It was typically the most popular morning radio talk show in Ny, and everyone knows. She wanted to tell the driver to turn them back, but what difference would that make? She had already heard it, and thus had half of New York. The whole world knew now that she was sixty years old. Or at least the better part of Ny. It was humiliating beyond words, she fumed to herself. Was nothing private anymore? Not when you were as famous as Valerie Wyatt and had your own TV show, and had for a long time. She wanted to cry as she sat within the backseat wondering what other radio shows it would be on, how many TV shows, what newspapers it would be in, or celebrity roundups announcing whose birthday it was and how old these were. Why didn't they just sky-write it over New York?
She was frowning as she paid the cab driver and gave him a handsome tip. Your day was on a miserable start for her, and she or he never liked her birthday anyway. It was always a disappointing day, and despite her fame and success, she had no man to invest it with. She had no date or boyfriend, no husband, and her daughter was always too busy trying to go out for dinner. And also the very last thing she wanted to do was make an issue of her age with friends. She was likely to spend the night time in your own home alone, in bed.
She hurried in the dilapidated steps of the familiar brownstone, nearly tripping on a chipped step, and pushed the button around the intercom. The name on the bell was Alan Starr. Valerie came at least twice a year and called between visits to boost her spirits or when she was bored. After she rang, a voice filtered in to the chilly November air.
"Darling?" It was a contented voice, and he sounded excited doing.
"It's me," she confirmed, and that he buzzed her in. She pushed open the heavy door once it unlocked, and hurried up the stairs towards the second floor. Your building was old and looked tired, but was clean. He was browsing a wide open doorway and threw his arms around her, grinning broadly. He was a tall, handsome man in the early forties with electric blue eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. And regardless of the shabby address, he was somewhat well-known around town.
"Happy birthday!" he said, hugging her close to him because he smiled having a look of genuine pleasure to see her. She pulled away, scowling at him unhappily.
"Oh shut up. Some asshole on the radio just told the entire goddamn world how old I am today." She looked near tears as she marched into the familiar family room, where several large Buddhas along with a white marble statue of Quan Yin sat on each side of two white couches having a black lacquer coffee table together. There is a definite odor of incense within the room.
"What do you care? You do not look your age! It's just several, darling," he reassured her as she tossed her coat to the couch.
"I care. And i'm my age, this is the worst part. I feel 100 years old today."
"Don't be silly," Alan said because he sat down on the couch opposite her. There were two decks of cards up for grabs. Alan was said to be among the best psychics in New York. She felt silly visiting him, but she trusted his predictions, and most of the time he cheered her up. He would be a loving, warm person with a decent spontaneity, and a number of famous clients. Valerie had arrived at him for a long time and a lot of what he predicted actually came true. She started her birthday with an appointment with him every year. It took a few of the sting from the day, and if the reading was good, it gave her something to appear forward to. "You're going to have a fabulous year," he said reassuringly because he shuffled when of cards. "All the planets are arranged for you personally. Used to do an astrological reading for you personally yesterday, and this is going to be your absolutely best year." He pointed towards the cards. She knew the drill. They had done this many times. "Pick five and place them face down," he explained, as he place the deck down in front of her, and she sighed. She picked 5 cards, left them face-down, and Alan turned them over one by one. There were two aces, a ten of clubs, a two of hearts, and the jack of spades.
"You're will make a lot of money this season," he said with a serious expression. "Some new licensing agreements. And your ratings are going to be fantastic on the show." He said pr...
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