A Randall Thanksgiving

by Judy Christenberry

  It hadn’t.

  Melissa was ready for the change. For starting her own company here in the U.S. For returning to her homeland. Maybe even for visiting her hometown a lot more often.

  But Harry wouldn’t kiss her then, she thought, and was stunned by the feeling of loss that consumed her.

  Whoa! She hadn’t intended to let things go so far. Maybe she should back off the idea of continuing the kissing game with Harry. He certainly was a good kisser. No doubt about that. But she hadn’t thought a few kisses could sway her.

  Melissa finally admitted that she didn’t want to back away from Harry. She was enjoying the game they were playing almost as much as the kisses she received. Even if she moved to New York, they could still kiss occasionally, couldn’t they? After all, she’d come home frequently…right?

  When a nurse brought her evening pills, Camille downed them promptly with a glass of water. After the nurse left the room, Camille said, “She’s cute, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. I don’t think I know her. Did she move here after I left?”

  “Yes, Betsy replaced a nurse Harry used to date. But they broke up and she married someone else. There’s been talk that Harry might be interested in this lady.”

  “Oh, really?” He’d better not be! Melissa thought. After all, he was kissing her, wasn’t he? Surely he wasn’t two-timing her. But it gave her food for thought. When she left, someone else might move in on Harry. Melissa wouldn’t like that.

  So what should she do? Back away, leaving him ripe for the picking? No, she didn’t think so. She’d keep playing the game as long as Harry was willing.

  She went to sleep that evening with a smile on her lips.

  THE FIRST THING Melissa did the next morning was inform the nurse she wouldn’t need breakfast ordered for her. Then she woke her mother, helped her wash up, and got her ready for her meal.

  “The nurse said she’d be in after breakfast to get you up to walk again. She said you did so well yesterday that today would be a lot easier for you.”

  Camille sighed. “I hope so.”

  “And while you’re walking, I’m going to go to the café with Harry. He offered yesterday to buy me breakfast.”

  “Yesterday morning?” Camille asked innocently, keeping an eye on her daughter.

  With her cheeks flushed, Melissa looked away and said, “Uh, no, I saw him later, when you were napping.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s nice.”

  Melissa breathed a sigh of relief. She’d worried about mentioning her breakfast date. Her father would’ve made a big deal about it. Thankfully, her mother didn’t react that way.

  Melissa had just finished clearing her mom’s tray when the nurse came in. “Melissa, Harry’s in the waiting room.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She checked to be sure her mother had everything she would need at hand. “I should be back in an hour, Mom.”

  “Take your time. I’ll probably go to sleep after I do my walking.”

  Melissa kissed her cheek and left the room, a big smile on her face.

  “Your daughter certainly seems happy,” the nurse said.

  “Yes, I think so, too.”

  After Camille did her requisite walking, moving out into the hall and then returning to her bed, the nurse offered another pain pill.

  “I don’t think I need it this morning,” she stated.

  “Well, let me know if you change your mind. We don’t want you to suffer.”

  “All right.”

  After the nurse left, Camille gradually let her muscles relax. Just as she was completely comfortable, the door opened and her husband entered the room.

  He gave her a good-morning kiss, then looked around with a frown. “Where’s Melissa?”

  “She’s gone to breakfast.”

  “I thought they’d order her food. Haven’t you eaten?”

  “Yes, and I’ve done my walking.”

  “Walking? This early?”

  “Yes, I walked out into the hallway and back. With the nurse’s help.”

  “That’s terrific, honey!” He gave her another kiss. “When will Melissa be back?”

  “I don’t know. I told her to take her time.”

  “Well, yeah, of course, but—”

  “She’s with Harry.”

  Suddenly Griff stopped complaining. “She is? How did you manage that?”

  “I didn’t do anything. Well, not much.”

  “And you complained about me matchmaking!”

  “I wasn’t matchmaking. I just mentioned that Harry might have an interest in one of the pretty nurses.”

  Griff sat down on the side of his wife’s bed. “You’re the best, sweetheart. Much more subtle than me.”

  Camille laughed. “It wouldn’t take much to be more subtle than you, dear.”

  “ARE YOU GOING TO HAVE French toast again?” Harry asked, eyeing the woman across the table from him.

  “Why, yes, if you don’t mind.”

  “No, I don’t mind, Melissa. I enjoyed watching you eat it yesterday.”

  “And the fact that I gave you a bite?”

  “Yeah. I’m hoping for another one today.” He listened with pleasure as she laughed.

  “How’s your mom this morning?”

  “She’s doing very well. She should be able to go home in a couple of days.”

  “A good thing you’re here, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Melissa agreed warily. “You’re not going to tell me it’s a reason I shouldn’t go back to France, are you?”

  Harry gave her a direct look. “No, I’m not going to tell you that, and I don’t think your mother will, either.”

  “Thank you. No, she won’t.”

  “I would ask you if you’re still going back to France, but I can’t do anything about it anyway. Besides, we’ve already caused enough talk.”

  Melissa’s head snapped up. “Talk? What do you mean?”

  “Mike said someone saw us on the street yesterday when I was kissing you.” He flexed his jaw. “I didn’t think anyone was around.”

  “Oh. So you wouldn’t have kissed me if you’d known?”

  “Damn it, Melissa, everyone’s going to feel sorry for me when you leave!”

  “Are you ready to order?” a waitress asked, suddenly appearing at their table.

  “Yes, I’ll have the French toast, please.” Melissa looked at Harry, a challenge in her eyes.

  “I’ll have the number-two breakfast, please,” he said, folding his menu and handing it to the waitress. Melissa hurriedly did the same.

  “I didn’t realize I was making you an object of pity just by letting you kiss me!” she whispered as soon as the waitress moved away.

  “I’m not complaining. I just didn’t intend for anyone to see us. I thought you should know.”

  “I think I’ll survive,” she told him, letting her irritation show.

  “Oh, really? Even if your dad hears the rumors?”

  Harry felt guilty for his remark when Melissa paled.

  “Oh, no! I hadn’t realized— Maybe he won’t hear.”

  “Yeah, right. As Mike said, you know how much townsfolk around here gossip.”

  Melissa groaned. “Dad’s going to think he’s won.”

  “Not if you keep telling him you’re moving back to France. Surely he won’t believe a simple kiss is going to keep you here.”

  She lifted her chin. “No, I guess not.”

  The waitress brought their food, but neither of them ate with any appetite. In fact, all enjoyment of their breakfast date seemed to have fled.

  After a few minutes, having stirred the food around on their plates, they abandoned the effort. Harry paid the bill and then escorted her back to the hospital. He walked with her into the waiting room, which was empty.

  She turned to stare at him. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.”

  He knew what she was doing. And he’d resolved not to rise to the bait. But he couldn’t pass up one last chance to taste those delectab
le lips, to hold her body against his. “Then I’d better kiss you goodbye.” He pulled her into his arms.

  Melissa went willingly. After all, she’d practically begged him to kiss her again. She knew what those words did to him.

  Those lips he couldn’t refuse clung to his, and her arms held him close. But he wanted to be closer. He hugged her tightly against him, running his hands up and down her back. He slanted his mouth over hers to take the kiss deeper. She met him at every turn.

  “Melissa! Harry! Have you lost all sense of decency? Anyone could walk in on you!”

  At the sound of Griff’s voice they broke apart, but Harry kept his gaze on Melissa rather than look at her father. Just in case she wanted to ignore that sense of decency and come back into his arms.

  “Dad!” Melissa exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see your mom. Didn’t you expect me?”

  “I—I— Yes, of course.”

  “I’m not complaining if you and Harry are…involved, but I’d rather everyone in town didn’t know that.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Harry muttered, and then regretted his words as the older man glared at him. “I’m sorry, Griff. We thought we were alone.”

  “We were until you interrupted us!” Melissa pointed out, as if what had happened was her father’s fault.

  “This is a public waiting room, Melissa. Anyone could’ve come in. Some of the ladies are planning on visiting your mother today. What if they’d walked in?”

  “Then I suppose I would’ve been a little embarrassed,” Melissa muttered.

  “A little?” Griff asked in outrage.

  “We weren’t making love, Dad! We were just kissing!”

  “I’m not so sure of that!” Griff growled, staring at Harry.

  Harry stepped forward. “If we went beyond kissing, I’m the one responsible, not Melissa. Take out your anger on me, Griff.”

  “I’m just saying you should be more careful,” he said in a loud voice.

  “I realize that,” Harry muttered, his face turning red.

  A nurse stepped into the room. “Mrs. Randall said you can all come in.” She held the door open for them.

  They all looked at each other. Griff said softly, “Not a word.”

  The other two nodded and followed him back to Camille’s room.

  “Mom, how did the walking go?”

  “Never mind my walking. What were the three of you arguing about out there? Half the hospital could hear you!” Camille exclaimed, staring from one to the other.

  “Um, I was complaining that Melissa took too long at breakfast,” Griff said cajolingly.

  Camille gave him a stern look. “Don’t lie to me, Griffin Randall. I know better than that.”

  “Really, Mom, it was nothing,” Melissa said, though it was evident her words didn’t appease her mother.

  “Look, I have to be here. The least you can do is not make it so embarrassing for me, having my family arguing.”

  “It’s my fault, Camille,” Harry said quietly. “I was kissing Melissa and your husband walked in on us.”

  Camille stared at her husband and daughter. “That’s all? You raised such a commotion over a simple kiss?”

  Griff protested. “It didn’t look that simple to me. I thought they were headed to the nearest bed!”

  “And you of all people were opposed? When our son was born ‘prematurely’ and weighed eight pounds, five ounces?”

  “Mom!” Melissa exclaimed.

  “Camille, must you spread that information around?”

  “Why not? You were doing the same thing to Melissa, weren’t you?”

  Chapter Eight

  After Griff and Harry had withdrawn, Melissa apologized to her mother again.

  “Don’t worry about it, dear. I blame your father.”

  “I should bear part of the blame, Mom. By the way, if there’s anything I can do to help you, I’ll be glad to do it.”

  “What’s today’s date?”

  Melissa frowned, then replied, “It’s the eighth of November.

  “So Thanksgiving is just a little over two weeks from now?”

  “That’s right. Why?”

  “Well, if I can’t make my share of Thanksgiving dinner, I’ll need you to make it for me.”

  “What’s your share?”

  “Dessert.”

  “Of course I can do that.”

  “Well, I’m not sure. It’s going to be something you’ve never made before.”

  “What could that be?” Melissa asked with a laugh. She was an experienced cook, after all.

  “Red’s chocolate cake.”

  Melissa stared at Camille. “What’s wrong with Red?”

  “He’s fine, though he and Mildred are complaining because you haven’t been out to see them.”

  “Oh, I should’ve thought of that. But your surgery distracted me.”

  “They understand. But as soon as I’ve recovered somewhat, you’d better plan a trip out to the ranch.”

  “Definitely.” She’d like nothing better than to go visit the domestic couple who had become family to not only Uncle Jake and his brothers, but to all the Randalls. “But how will you make his chocolate cake? No one knows the recipe.”

  “He’s given it to all of us second generation ladies.”

  “Are you sure he’s all right?”

  “Of course he is, honey. I would’ve told you if something was wrong with Red. But, you know, he’s getting up in years and he’s decided to share his secret now. He told us we could pass it on when our daughters marry.”

  “But that means I’m the only one of my generation who doesn’t have it.”

  “And Mildred’s cinnamon bun recipe, too.”

  “Wow, talk about incentive! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

  “Do you think I wanted you to marry a Frenchman and have my grandbabies over there?”

  Melissa didn’t let herself dwell too long on her mother’s remark. “Oh, Mom, cut it out.”

  “I would’ve accepted it if you’d fallen in love on your own, but I wasn’t going to offer any incentives.”

  Melissa needed to change the subject. “But you’ll have to let me see the recipe if you don’t feel up to making the cake.”

  “Yes, but you’ll have to promise not to tell Red you’ve already seen it.” Her mother winked at her.

  “Okay, I promise.”

  “Good. Then I don’t have to worry.”

  “You certainly don’t. Unless I have to break your leg to ensure that you can’t make the cake,” Melissa teased.

  Camille laughed, but before she could respond, the door opened and two of Melissa’s aunts entered. “Aunt Megan, Aunt B.J., hello.”

  B.J. leaned over to Megan. “You know, I think that sounds like Melissa, but I’m sure if she was back she would’ve been out to see us before now.”

  “I would have thought so,” Megan agreed, grinning at Melissa.

  She went over to her aunts and hugged them. “I’m sorry, you two. I’ve been busy.”

  “So we heard,” B.J. assured her as she and Megan went directly to Camille’s side. “How are you, love?”

  “Actually, I’m doing fairly well. I walked out in the hallway this morning, and my nurse says tomorrow I’ll be able to walk all alone.”

  The ladies praised her and then started to gossip about the family. Fortunately, much to Melissa’s relief, they said nothing about her and Harry.

  “Dear, would you go get us all some drinks from the vending machine?” Camille eventually asked her.

  “Sure. What would you like?”

  They all gave her their preferences. As soon as she left the room, Megan said, “I guess you’re hearing all the gossip about her and Harry, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe not all of it, but Griff threw a fit in the waiting room earlier. Seems he walked in on the pair of them kissing.”

  “Well, the rumors started yesterday when they were seen kissing on the
sidewalk around ten in the morning. Everyone figured it must be serious to be going on that early in the day,” B.J. said.

  “Can you believe Griff was making such a scene? I pointed out to him that, since our son was born a month early, weighing as much as he did, Griff didn’t have much room to complain.”

  The ladies were all laughing as Melissa came back in, carrying cans of soda.

  “Oh, thank you, Melissa.” B.J. opened her drink at once and took a long sip. “My throat gets so dry in winter.”

  “Mine, too,” Megan agreed. “Oh, Melissa, did you make those earrings you’re wearing?” She leaned forward to examine them.

  Melissa had intended asking them what was so funny, but her aunt’s interest in her jewelry distracted her. “Yes, I did. I made these last year.”

  “Ooh, I love them. They look old-fashioned, yet totally chic!”

  “That was the effect I was hoping to achieve,” Melissa said with a smile.

  “Did you get my name for Christmas?” Megan asked hopefully.

  “Oh, I forgot to ask Mom.”

  “I know whose name she got,” Camille said, “but it’s supposed to be a secret.”

  B.J. tried convincing her otherwise. “Oh, come on, Camille. It’s just the kids who aren’t supposed to know.”

  “Fine,” she said, “but you’re not going to be happy about it. She got Josh.”

  The two aunts looked disappointed.

  “See? I told you,” Camille said with a sigh.

  “I don’t suppose you’d want to find out who has my name and switch with them?” Megan asked.

  “Hey, it should be for my name. After all, Josh is my son,” B.J. pointed out.

  “Yeah, but—You know, I bet I could sell those in my store. Is there any way I could do that?” Megan asked.

  Her aunt’s shop, where she sold antiques and high-end items, would be a perfect venue for her jewelery. But… “I’m afraid not. I’m under contract with a French jewelery designer,” Melissa murmured.

  “Rats!”

  “Do you really think you could sell some here?” she asked.