setting up the small banquet room for Lovey and her family and friends.
Ruby and Peanut were joining them as always, and Vera and Vesta from the hair salon were eating there, too. Mabel Jean had gone home to her family.
Johnny and Dori Pine’s house was nothing short of mayhem with Johnny’s two little brothers, Marshall and Beep, and Dori’s son, Luther, who was now walking and talking and following the “big boys,” rolling all over the living room floor while watching the annual Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV.
Jake, Laurel, and Bonnie Lorde were having ham for Thanksgiving because Bonnie was afraid her pet chicken, Lavonne, would get her feelings hurt if they cooked turkey.
Bowie and Rowan James arrived in a red Mustang the night before Thanksgiving to spend it with his granny Pearl and his aunt Ella. It was an interesting twist to be the first overnight guests in the house Bowie rebuilt for them after the hurricane. Pearl cried when they drove up, so happy to have her grandson, Bowie, and his new wife back in Blessings, even if it was only for a couple of days.
The Wilson family was celebrating big this year. After Melvin Lee’s meltdown and his daddy’s return to the family, his daddy’s new job with a local plumber put him home every evening.
Melvin Lee was anxiously waiting for his mama to call them to come eat. He’d been smelling that turkey cooking all morning and was certain he might actually starve before everything was done. It was his best day ever, because his grandma was riding herd on his siblings while Mama and Daddy cooked dinner together. He couldn’t remember a better Thanksgiving in his life.
And so it went all over Blessings. People were gathering together, or making the trip to Granny’s Country Kitchen to have their holiday meal in the company of friends.
The Bailey family had gone to the nursing home to have dinner with their father, Mylo. It would likely be their last Thanksgiving with him. Even though the old man didn’t know who they were anymore, they remembered him, and such was the circle of life.
* * *
They were down to dessert at the Talbot farm, and telling stories about holidays past, when Duke asked Cathy what her Thanksgivings were like when she was still living in Alaska.
Cathy laughed. “Nothing like this, I can assure you, and there were only the three of us. Once we didn’t even celebrate it at all because we forgot about it, and one Christmas we celebrated on the wrong day. Time didn’t mean the same thing there that it does now. It was sunup and sundown, and staying focused on surviving in between.”
“You didn’t even have a calendar?” Jack asked.
“Usually,” Cathy said. “But think about it a minute. If the days aren’t marked off as they pass, you lose track. And if you need something dry to start a fire and it’s been raining for days, or snow is up past the windows and the fire went out because of a downdraft, you use the driest thing you have for tinder because getting warm is more important than what day it is. At that time, the driest thing in the cabin was a page from the calendar. So if we burned up October or November, Halloween and Thanksgiving went begging. And then you don’t know how many days have come and gone, so you still have December on the calendar, but you don’t really know when it is. That’s when Mama would just pick a day and call it Christmas.”
“I am in awe,” Duke said.
Cathy pointed her fork at him. “That was then, and this is now. I will expect a Christmas present and a birthday present,” she said.
Duke’s eyes darkened. “I will give you presents every day of your life, just for the pleasure of seeing you smile.”
And just like that, Cathy was looking at him through tears.
“Awww, honey, don’t cry,” he said.
Hope patted Cathy’s arm. “Women cry good tears and bad tears. Those are good tears.”
“Nothing is forever,” Lon said. “Just be grateful for each day you have together. And on a happier note, Cathy, have you read the piece the Tribune did on you yesterday?”
She shook her head. “No. It was embarrassing enough just being in a public brawl.”
Mercy arched an eyebrow and then shook her head. “Oh sugar…that was not a public brawl. I used to work in a bar in Savannah that catered to bikers and truckers. Those were