The Construction of Cheer - Liz Isaacson Page 0,76

birthday, Lois. May it be filled with the love I can feel at this party for the whole year.”

She hugged the older woman and stepped back. “Okay, eat. Enjoy. I have more in the kitchen, so I’ll keep my eye on everything.” With that, she walked into the kitchen and ducked around the corner.

She pressed her back into the wall and wiped the sweat from her forehead. She loved performing like that, but hated it at the same time. It drained her every time, and she needed to remember to pack a hygiene kit from now on. Something with a stick of deodorant, an extra blouse, and plenty of mint gum. Then she could freshen up before she had to present her food.

A presentation didn’t happen at every event, but she had been doing them more and more, especially for the custom menus she put together, like this one.

“This is incredible,” someone said. Holly Ann didn’t know all of the men well enough to distinguish their voices.

“I apologize for thinking you shouldn’t have hired her,” another man said. “I want to eat all of this.”

Holly Ann smiled as the chatter started to overlap and she couldn’t hear more than snatches of it. She stepped over to the sink and washed her hands again, then got busy cleaning up the kitchen. She should be completely packed and ready to go by the time they finished eating. Then she could load up and get home. Most people didn’t pay her to stay the whole time, and Ace had asked for an hour after the party started.

She looked up as someone entered the kitchen, and she found Lois Glover entering through the doorway. “Hello, ma’am,” she said. “Everything okay?”

“No, it is not,” she said, coming closer. “I don’t have the recipe for these brownies, and I need it.” She took the last bite, a smile filling her wrinkled and aged face. “I love them.” She took Holly Ann into an embrace. “You are a Godsend, my dear.”

“Oh.” Holly Ann hugged her back. “Thank you. I can send you the recipe.”

“I’d like that.” Lois stepped back. “How’s your father?”

“He’s doing great,” Holly Ann said, surprised Lois knew her dad. He wasn’t quite as old as Lois, and he’d been single for the last twenty years despite Bethany Rose and Holly Ann telling him he was handsome and should date.

He claimed to have loved Mama too much to ever marry again, but he hadn’t even tried. Holly Ann had given up talking to him about it, and they just talked about her sporadic love life now.

“Good.” Lois patted her hand. “Now, there’s a certain young man out there who would like you to come eat with him.”

“Oh, no,” Holly Ann said, holding up both hands. “I don’t do that.”

“I insist,” Lois said, and she linked her arm through Holly Ann’s. Since she could barely lift that gallon of milk, and with her surprise rendering her usually active vocal cords dormant, Holly Ann found herself getting towed back into the hall.

Ace had an empty spot next to him at the table with his brothers and sisters, and he gestured to her to come fill it.

You’re doing all kinds of different things today, she told herself. What’s one more?

So she filled a plate with her own food and sat down beside Ace. He introduced her to his brother Ward, then Ranger and his wife Oakley, then his twin sisters, Etta and Ida. Ida had her boyfriend with her, and Holly Ann nodded at all of them in turn, lastly Brady Burton, the cop that lived just across the street from her.

He gave her a look that wasn’t hard to read, and Holly Ann dropped her eyes to her plate. He’d said she’d fit in soon enough, and that he knew how hard it was to show up with this family and not feel out of place.

That was exactly how Holly Ann felt, and she knew Brady had been dating Ida for a while now.

Then Ace put his hand on her knee under the table and squeezed, and Holly Ann suddenly fit right there at his side.

“All right,” Bear Glover said. “Mother, we have a gift for you.”

Holly Ann watched as he presented Lois with a carefully wrapped package. She fussed over the ribbon, finally untying it and peeling back the paper.

She looked up at the sight of the book, her eyes bright. “Children?”

“It’s the love letters, Mother,” Bishop blurted out, hurrying forward. “We found them in that