Maryellen was certainly in high spirits, Grace noted as her daughter let her in. She loved Maryellen and Jon’s home, which was built in a Northwest style and only a few miles from Cliff’s property. With each visit, she marveled at Jon’s ingenuity and skill. While he developed his artistic career, handling the management aspect as well as the photography itself, he also worked on his house and its grounds. Each and every day Grace was grateful her daughter had met Jon Bowman—and that she’d married him.
Katie took one look at her grandma and gleefully waddled toward her, small arms held wide.
Without hesitation, Grace squatted down and scooped her up, to cries of delight. “How’s my Katie-girl?” she asked, nuzzling the toddler’s face.
Katie squealed and hugged her back, both arms locked around Grace’s neck.
“We’re ready, Mom,” Maryellen said. She opened the refrigerator and took out a molded salad. It was a recipe that had been in the family for years, made from lime gelatin, cream cheese and melted marshmallows. Grace had always associated it with Thanksgiving dinner and apparently so did her daughter.
“I made salad,” Maryellen said unnecessarily. “And Jon baked an apple pie.”
“I baked a pumpkin pie,” Grace told her.
Maryellen laughed. “Cliff said we didn’t have to bring a thing. It seems we decided he needed a little help, after all.”
“I can’t believe he’s willing to prepare an entire turkey dinner by himself,” Grace said, impressed that Cliff was taking this on. As far as she knew, he usually settled for sandwiches, canned soup or a simple grilled steak.
“Mother, you don’t honestly think Cliff is going to cook, do you?” Maryellen looked at her incredulously.
“That’s what he said. Didn’t he?”
“With all these restaurants and grocery stores offering to provide an entire meal for a reasonable price?” As if she’d suddenly remembered something, she turned to her mother. “What are Olivia and Jack doing for Thanksgiving?”
Grace smiled. “How did we get from store-bought turkey dinners to the subject of Olivia?”
“By way of Justine, of course.”
Ah yes, it made sense now. Restaurants provided turkey dinners, and Justine and Seth owned The Lighthouse restaurant.
“Olivia and Jack went to Reno to be with Eric, Shelley and the twins,” Grace explained, referring to Jack’s son from his first marriage. According to Olivia, everyone was excited about the trip. They’d flown out on Wednesday evening—the night of the aerobics class Olivia and Grace usually attended. It was the first one Olivia had missed in months. Grace felt guilty for not going, but without the motivation of meeting her best friend, she’d ended up staying home. If not for Olivia, Grace would have given up on the class years ago. Her knees often hurt afterward and any benefit she gained from repeatedly leaping up and down was wiped out by the pie and coffee they had after class.
“Oh, yes, I seem to remember that you mentioned Olivia had plans,” Maryellen said absently as Jon loaded the car. When everything was inside, including the portable high chair, he placed a bundled-up Katie in her car seat.
Grace sat in the back next to her granddaughter. Katie was a sweet child, with huge expressive eyes. She was talking now, gibberish mostly, but she seemed to enjoy carrying on long, one-sided conversations.
Grace couldn’t help feeling bad that Jon’s stepmother was missing out on all the stages of Katie’s development. Grace knew it saddened Maryellen, but Jon had been unwilling to compromise in his attitude toward his parents—even when he’d learned of his father’s stroke.
Katie was the Bowmans’ only grandchild, and they’d never even seen her, except in the photographs Maryellen had surreptitiously sent. It broke Grace’s heart.
Cliff was standing in the open doorway when Jon pulled into the yard. A light rain had just begun, and he hurried out to the car to usher Grace into the house, returning to carry in some of Katie’s paraphernalia.
Despite Maryellen’s predictions, Grace expected to be greeted by the wonderful aroma of turkey and sage; she wasn’t so much disappointed as amused when there was no such smell. A fire crackled in the fireplace and the house was warm and inviting, but Cliff was quite clearly taking advantage of a precooked Thanksgiving dinner.
While Maryellen and Jon got Katie out of her jacket and settled with some blocks and a teddy bear, Grace found Cal in the kitchen. He stood by the counter making a pot of coffee. He smiled when he saw Grace. “Happppp-y Thanks…Turkey Day,” he managed.
“You, too, Cal.” Grace admired the young man and liked him. “Speaking of turkey and turkey day,” she said, glancing around. “It doesn’t look—or smell—like there’s much cooking going on around here.”
Cliff stepped into the room behind her. “Guilty as charged. Cal and I opted for culinary assistance.”
“The Lighthouse?” Jon asked, joining them.
Cliff nodded. “They’re providing a full meal—and they’re going to deliver it, ready to go.” He checked his watch. “Anytime,” he added.
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the doorbell rang. Cal went to answer it, and both Seth and Justine walked in, carrying their dinner. Seth held the aluminum foil roasting pan with the turkey and Justine had two large bags. They set their bounty on the kitchen counter.
“Need help?” Cal asked.
“There’s more in the car,” Justine said, throwing off the hood of her rainproof jacket.
“Let-t-t me.” Cal disappeared to collect the remaining food.