“Your point?”
“Get while the getting is good! Go pick up your fiancée and make good use of this time. You have a wedding to plan. Or, hey, go to a movie and sit back and relax.”
“I’d probably yawn my way through a movie.”
“So! At least you’ll be able to sit back and relax, with the love of your life at your side.”
“I can’t leave you. Not after…”
Laura shook her head resolutely. “Uh, uh. I will not be the reason you forgo an opportunity to spend time with Macy. I happen to love that girl too and I definitely want to assure she joins this family. She has the patience of a saint, but speaking as a woman, I wouldn’t push her.”
“But Laura…”
“I’ll be here,” Dalton said from the doorway. “I won’t let Laura out of my sight.”
Laura laughed. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said firmly. “I shouldn’t have let you go alone earlier.”
She threw her hands in the air. “For Pete’s sake, what is it with you Battle Ground men and your excessive senses of guilt? I’m a grown woman, currently living in Atlanta. I can pretty much guarantee our crime rates exceed that of Battle Ground.”
Thomas rolled his eyes heavenward. “Oh, thanks. I feel much better,” he said drolly.
Dalton crossed the room and gestured Thomas away from the sink. “Go. Laura’s right. It’s a Saturday night and you’re doing dishes. We’ll take over. Go spend some quality time with your fiancée.”
Thomas grinned. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” they said in unison.
Thomas left the kitchen, whistling a happy tune.
Laura turned to Dalton. “Thanks. He really needs some time away.” She fixed her gaze on his face. “Hey, what are you doing home on a Saturday night? I bet there’s somewhere you’d rather be than here, with me, doing dishes.”
He gave a shrug. “Well, then, you’d be wrong.”
Chapter Twelve
After finishing the dishes, Laura and Dalton entered the living room. Laura set about tidying it up, and Dalton pitched in to help.
“There,” she said. “Looks better.”
He nodded. “Would you care to watch a movie with me?”
“Sure. That sounds fine.”
Laura dropped onto the couch, expecting Dalton to take the recliner, as he usually did. Instead, after retrieving the television remote, he joined her on the couch. Though there was a foot or two separating them, his close proximity set her heart in overdrive once again.
She nearly gasped. Why did he have such an effect on her heart, literally? On her emotions? Why did he, and seemingly only him, make her think about love, and romance, and children, and home and hearth…?
And she wasn’t imagining this home, but a home with him. Her cheeks flushed at her romantic musings. She really was embarrassed. She was an adult! Why was she still fixating on Dalton, when both were now grown and vastly different people from whom they had been.
Or, were they? In truth, Dalton was still the sweet, kind-hearted guy she remembered. He still retained a deep faith in God, and he was still devoted to her family.
Was she very much the same as she had been as a young girl growing up in Battle Ground? Had she changed living in the big city?
She heard Dalton’s deep chuckle, intruding on her thoughts. “Laura, those wheels are definitely turning again,” he mused, but abruptly sobered. “You’re not thinking about what happened at the store…?”
She shook her head. She sensed he felt awful finding humor in anything, after her near-abduction. She quickly put his mind at ease. “No, no, I wasn’t thinking about that.”
“Well, I am now,” he admitted, and to her surprise, reached for her and pulled her close. “If something had happened to you…” His words trailed off but he continued to hold her. She felt the rhythmic beating of his heart, the strength of his arms, and inhaled his masculine scent. She nearly gave a contented sigh, but stopped herself in the nick of time. She forced herself to pull away from him.
“I really appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. Really.”
Was she mistaken, or did she see a flash of pain in his eyes. It was evident he was glad she was okay. So why did he still look miserable?
“What sounds good? On the TV, I mean,” he said, clearing his throat and attempting to sound upbeat.
“Are any heartwarming Thanksgiving programs playing?” she inquired with a smile.
“I’ll check.”
“By the way, do you know what this family has in mind for Thanksgiving? Who’s cooking?” she asked.
Dalton paused in his study of the television, and turned to her. “Wow, good question. Thomas invited me…” He chuckled. “Being as I live here, and have nowhere else to go,” he admitted. “But, I really don’t know what the plan is. With Candace and Dan… And Dan’s folks… I know they want to see the kids. And then there’s Macy. I imagine her family has plans for the holiday, and would like to include Thomas…” He fell back against the sofa. “I just don’t know.”
“I can cook,” Laura said brightly, and then giggled. “I mean, I’m available to cook. I don’t necessarily do it all that well, but…”
Dalton met her gaze, his eyes sparkling with humor. “I can help. And the same is true for me. I’m available and willing, but not necessarily much of a chef.”
“How hard can it be?” Laura mused. “I mean, really. How hard can it be?”
***
“We should have ordered one of those pre-cooked holiday meals from the supermarket,” Dalton said with a frustrated sigh.
He stood back, with his arms folded across his chest, and was staring in horror at the still undercooked turkey in front of him. “Is it ever going to get done?”
“I don’t know,” Laura answered. “But … Dalton, are the marshmallows on the yams supposed to be … black?” she asked with a wince.
He glanced over at the sweet potatoes still in the oven. “Oh, shoot! No.” He grabbed a pot holder and yanked the yams out of the oven. “Ouch, ouch,” he muttered as he dropped them onto the tabletop. They landed with a splat.
He promptly grabbed a spoon and began peeling the molten marshmallows off the potatoes. Gobs of the melted goo dripped off the spoon and landed on his shoes. “Laura, help!”
She hurriedly grabbed a napkin and wiped his shoes, and then began helping him ply the stubborn marshmallows off the yams. “Why are we doing this?” she asked.
“Well, we’re going to hope the yams aren’t too overcooked, so that later, we can put new marshmallows on top and reheat the whole messy side dish in the microwave.”
“Oh, okay. Sounds like a plan.”
Dalton cocked his head. “We probably should have waited awhile on cooking the yams.”
“Probably. Did you assemble the green bean casserole?”
“We’re having green bean casserole?”
She nodded. “It’s a tradition.”
“I think we should consider a new tradition,” he suggested.
“What?”
“No green bean casserole for Thanksgiving.” He turned and rummaged through a nearby cabinet. He pulled out three cans of green beans. “Ta dah! We’ll add some butter and heat them up. A new tradition!”
Laura chuckled and shook her head. “Dalton,” she reminded him in a mock-scolding tone. “The casserole was on the list.”
He made a face. “I guess I blocked it out,” he murmured. “I mean, that list was pretty long.” He glanced at the large wooden table, splayed out with food that was already done. If only the turkey would cook!
He narrowed his eyes, as an idea formed.
Laura noticed. “What, Dalton? Do you have an idea? I know the kids are getting hungry.”
Although Thomas had spent the lunch hour at his future in-laws, he was coming home for Thanksgiving supper with his family. Macy was joining him, as were Candace and the children. Dan’s folks had been kind enough to postpone their celebr
ation for the next day, so the children could enjoy the holiday with both their father and their mother on separate days.
“Dalton…” Laura prompted. “What are you thinking?”
He turned toward her. “Could we broil it? I mean, it would definitely get done quicker if we broil it.”
Laura laughed. “Well, the skin would probably turn as black as the marshmallows on the yams, so no, we probably shouldn’t broil it.” She furrowed her brow in thought. “I know! Cut into it. That’ll allow the heat to get to the center better.”
“But will it dry it out?”
“At this point, I don’t really care,” she answered honestly. “I know everyone is starving. Well, except for Thomas and Macy. I’m sure they’re full. If I remember right, Macy’s mother is a superb cook.” She frowned. “Why didn’t we all just go over there?”
“We weren’t invited. We should have ordered pizzas,” Dalton said glumly, as he stabbed the turkey and then shoved it back into the oven. “I’m going to turn up the temperature a bit,” he told her.
“Okay.”
They stood back and stared at the turkey through the glass in the oven. Thomas walked into the room. “Hey, the table looks great,” he commented, but frowned. “What happened to the yams?”
“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” Dalton assured him.
“Okey, dokey then,” he said. “I’ll leave you two to finish supper.”
“Uh huh,” Laura said, her eyes still riveted on the turkey.
“Does the turkey do tricks?” Thomas asked, biting back a chuckle.
“I’ll show you a trick,” Dalton warned, lifting his fist and waving it around menacingly.
Thomas left the room. They could hear him laughing from the living room.
“Wanna make a run for it?” Dalton whispered. “We could be enjoying a ‘cooked’ Thanksgiving meal at Denny’s before they even discover we’re gone. Or, maybe Macy’s folks have leftovers they’d be willing to share.”
She pretended to consider the suggestion, but shook her head. “We should probably see this through, considering we made a commitment.”
Suddenly, Thomas poked his head into the kitchen. “You did take the giblets out of the turkey, right?”
“The whatlets?” Dalton said, confused.
Laura turned toward Dalton, her expression stricken. “The stuff in the turkey cavity,” she prompted. “It was wrapped in plastic.”
His eyes were equally concerned, but then he emitted a relieved sigh. “Yes, I distinctly remember removing something out of the center of it. I … think… so … anyway.”
“Was it wrapped in paper?” Thomas asked. “Plastic,” he clarified.
“I guess it was either paper or plastic,” Dalton said, struggling to remember. “I mean, it’s not as if it was wearing a ski jacket.”
Laura giggled and Thomas burst out laughing. “Well, it’s clear you both have things well under control… Not,” he added with a delighted snicker as he retreated from the kitchen.
“Who’s idea was this again?” Dalton asked, and gestured toward the doorway. “Was it his?”
Laura shook her head. “No, I’m afraid this is all on us. Well, me, first and foremost. You only signed on to help me.” She gave a wan smile. “Thank you. By the way, the next time I open my big mouth, remind me of today.”
“Oh, no worries,” he assured her. “This day will definitely live on in my memory. Gosh, your mom used to make it look so easy.”
He abruptly burst out laughing. “No, no, that’s not true. It was Dan’s mom who makes any meal look easy. Your mom’s meals looked pretty much like this one.”
Laura grinned. “I come by my cooking talent honestly then,” she said agreeably, and took her voice down a notch. “Let’s blame Mom.”
He laughed and suddenly tugged her toward him and wrapped her in his arms. She felt him give a deep, withering sigh.
“Dalton, are you all right?” she asked, concerned.
“Yeah. I just need a hug.”
***
“Well, that was… The turkey was… Well, anyway…” Thomas gave an exaggerated wince.
“It was a good effort,” Kenny said with a crisp nod, and sounding much older than his years. “A good … effort.”
Laura grinned at her nephew. “Thank you, Kenny.”
Thomas’ eyes lit first on Laura, and then on Dalton. “But you’re telling us, you forgot dessert?” He arched a brow. “Wow. That’s disappointing. But then again, if you two had done the cooking… We may be better off…”
“Oh, you got enough at Macy’s folks’ place anyway,” Dalton said in a surly tone. “It’s the others here who have a right to complain.”
Laura shot Dalton an accusing glance. “Dessert was on the list.”
He groaned. “The list was really long.” He pinned her with a look. “Hey, you wrote the doggone list. It seems to me you’re a tad more culpable than me for forgetting desert.”
“It’s all right,” Candace interceded, laughing. “I happen to have a couple pies in the car, just in case you needed them.”
Thomas grinned her way. “You always used to do that because Mom’s desserts didn’t, er, usually turn out.”
She shrugged, and then smiled, as if recalling a fond memory, and then turned to Kenny. “Son, will you get the pies out of the back seat of the car?”
She appeared to brace for him to resist, but instead, he jumped up. “Is it locked?”
“No.”
“Okay!” He dashed outside and returned a moment later carrying two pies. “Mom, was I supposed to bring the cake in too?”
“If anyone’s hungry for cake,” she said.
Thomas let out a delighted whoop. “Candace made cake!”
“Your favorite,” she told him. “Orange cream.”
Kenny grinned and hurried outside to get the cake. He soon came in, holding the platter carefully. He set it down beside his uncle, who promptly rose to retrieve a cake slicer.
Soon, everyone was calling out their dessert preferences, while both Dalton and Laura eased back in their chairs. Both were spent from the effort of cooking, but enjoying the festivity around them. If they didn’t know better, it would have seemed like any other happy holiday.
But unfortunately, Dan was conspicuously missing, as were their parents.
As if on cue, the phone rang. Laura rose to answer it, since Thomas was still cutting into the desserts, and Candace was passing the plates around.
“Hello.”
“Laura, is that you?” her mother cried.
“It’s me.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, honey. Are you enjoying your holiday? I heard it’s sunny and sixty-five in Atlanta today.”
“Don’t remind me,” she said, but realized she wasn’t actually missing Georgia today. She was happy to be exactly where she was at the moment. “And what’s the temp in sunny Arizona?” she asked with a smile.
“Oh, honey, you really don’t want to know, do you?”
“No, I guess not. How’s your Thanksgiving going? And how’s Dad? We miss you both.”
“We’re doing all right, though we really miss you kids. We did consider getting on a plane, but I’m afraid I have an ear infection and the doctor wouldn’t release me to fly.”
“You definitely don’t want to fly with an ear infection,” Laura acknowledged. “And I’m sorry you have one. I thought you were done with that business, having moved to Arizona.”
“I know, me too. I do so much better in the summer here, but I still fight the occasional ear trouble during late autumn. Anyway, enough about me. Tell me, how is it seeing Dalton again?”
Laura gasped. It was the last question she expected her mother to ask. “I … don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, Laura, you do too. You were so in love with that boy…” She chuckled. “He was awfully taken with you too.”
“He was not! He didn’t know I existed.”
“Oh, sure. He spent as much time at our hom
e as my own children did.” She gave a dubious chuckle. “He never noticed you…? Oh, Laura, you do make me smile.”
“Mom!”
Her mother continued chuckling, but Laura sensed a sudden shift in her mood. “How is your sister?”
Laura sighed. “I wish I knew.”
“Are she and Dan doing any better?”
“You know, I meant to call you to talk to you about that. Do you have any idea why they split up?”
“No, I really don’t. Candace isn’t talking, I’m afraid.”
“Mom…”
“Yes?”
“We’re really worried about her. And the kids…”
“I know,” she murmured sadly. “Thomas has told me she doesn’t spend much time with them. Laura, that’s not like her. Despite everything else Candace may have been…” She paused, apparently to regroup. “Anyway, she was a wonderful mother. I was so proud of her whenever I saw her with those kids. I just … can’t imagine…”
Laura heard the catch in her voice. “Mom…?”
“Laura, I’m sorry that your sister commanded so much of your father’s and my attention when you were growing up. We didn’t mean for you to be cast aside, but you were always so grown up and level-headed. Even when you were tiny. Candace, on the other hand, just ‘required’ more attention, and Lord knows, it wasn’t always the positive kind.”
Laura hadn’t expected an apology from her mother. But despite receiving it, she felt the old hurts once again.
“Laura, are you there?”
“Yes, Mom. And it’s … okay.”
“No, honey, it’s not okay. Your dad and I look back and wish we could do things differently. We should have rewarded your good behavior with the kind of attention Candace received for … the bad.” She gave a sad, brittle laugh. “Not that she was ‘bad.’ She was just … high maintenance, I guess you could say.”
There was much Laura could have said in reply, such as she knew her parents had enjoyed having a daughter as stunningly beautiful and popular as Candace, as if that fact reflected on them. And that they had doted on her, to the exclusion of their youngest. But she didn’t. Instead, she sat quietly for a moment and glanced heavenward. “Lord…” she prayed silently, “please help me to come to terms with my past.”
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