by Nancy Warren
He put his key in the lock and opened the door. Right on cue, hysterical barks announced his homecoming. He barely got inside, when the dog told him in no uncertain terms that he was very happy to see him again. Not to be outdone, Sadie ran behind the dog, launching herself at him. He put down his case and the mail and took a few moments to greet his daughter and his dog.
Erin came down the hall laughing at the commotion. “I hope you’re hungry.” She wore a ‘kiss the cook’ apron that he thought was from the wedding shower his mother had insisted on throwing. He doubted she was aware of what was printed on the apron but he followed the instructions anyway giving her a resounding smack on the lips.
She returned the kiss then pulled away, laughing. “Come in the kitchen and tell us about your day.”
“Honestly, this is the best part of my day.”
“Daddy? I taught Cupid a new trick today.”
“You did?”
“Yep, want to see?”
The dog had come running up to her after hearing its name, his tail wagging.
“Sure, I want to see.”
Sadie walked to the cupboard where the dog cookies were kept and Cupid followed her step for step. She retrieved a dog treat from the red box and, serious now, said “Cupid, down.” The dog flattened himself on the floor immediately, instantly, faster than the speed of light, his eyes never leaving the cookie waving in Sadie’s pudgy young fingers. She said, “Good dog,” and rewarded him.
“Isn’t that a great trick? Isn’t he smart?”
He thought the dog would have jumped on one leg and sung Christmas carols if it would get him a treat, but he complimented the young dog whisperer anyway.
There were pots and pans all over the kitchen, so many pots and pans he imagined all the cupboards must be empty. His new wife had a slightly hysterical look to her and all around were mysterious looking spice jars, shreds of greenery and a meat thermometer sitting out on the counter.
“Cooking something special?” he asked.
“I thought I would experiment with a turkey dinner now when it’s just us.” She opened the oven, grabbed the turkey baster and bent closer to the oven. He didn’t say anything, but the aroma filling the kitchen did not smell like any of the turkey dinners his mother had cooked over the years. In fact, the kitchen smelled more like an ethnic restaurant and in truth he couldn’t distinguish which ethnicity it was.
“That’s great, honey,” he said. “Are you trying out one of the new recipes you found on the Internet?” He tried to keep his voice neutral but he wasn’t sure he wanted anything outlandish for their first Thanksgiving feast together. Jared was a traditional kind of guy. He liked turkey with sage stuffing, maybe with some mashed potatoes and some yams or Brussels sprouts. For dessert, he looked forward to pumpkin pie. He loved that Erin was super creative in her jewelry designing business and the way she put clothes together. But he wasn’t sure how much creativity he could take in the kitchen.
Still, he wasn’t one to complain if a woman was nice enough to cook him a meal, so he kept his thoughts to himself.
“I am. I figure if I practice a few times beforehand then everything will be perfect on the big day.”
How many turkeys was she planning to cook? He liked turkey as much as the next American but he didn’t want to eat it every day. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Yes.” She shut the oven door with a bang and as she turned he saw that her cheeks were flushed from the heat. “You can tell me honestly what you think of this new recipe I’m trying.”
Oh he really, really did not think he could comply with this request. How could he tell her if a meal she had worked on for hours didn’t taste good? Of course he couldn’t. He’d do what he’d done on a few occasions when she surprised him with a new recipe.
He’d eat the food she had been kind enough to cook him, he would complement her on how good it tasted, and then he’d do the dishes. And if his family and friends ended up eating a Thanksgiving feast this year of Balinese/Creole/Punjabi influences well that’s how it was going to be.
Since it seemed as though dinner was going to be a while he retrieved the mail.
“We got a letter from our foster child today,” he said.
Sadie jumped up and Cupid jumped up right along with her. Jared wasn’t entirely sure whether the dog truly believed he was a human child or whether he just liked any excuse to jump around and get excited. “Let’s read it, let’s read it right now, can we, Dad?”
He glanced at Erin who said, “Sure, why not?”
He had first suggested they join up with one of those charities that connected a family with a child in need in another country after Erin had refused to marry him because she could not have children. He had been so anxious to prove to her that he loved her, whether she could add to their family or not, that he’d brought her the package with a selection of needy children and their families to choose from.
Not only had his honest declaration that he loved her exactly as she was worked, but the more they looked over the welcome package, the more they’d seen the value not only for a disadvantaged child in a poor part of the world, but for Sadie. Foster parenting from afar was a wonderful way to educate his young daughter who lived such a privileged life in the first world that there were children just like her all over the globe living in much harsher situations. The three of them together had chosen to sponsor little Gabriela from a small village in Ecuador.
The way he understood the charity, their monthly contribution actually went to the whole village, but it was nice to have personal contact with one child and her family. About once a month, or so, they received a photograph and a simple letter.
They admired the photo, which showed Gabriela, who was the same age as Sadie, sitting with her brand new baby brother. Jared read the letter aloud and then Sadie took it to the fridge where she used one of her magnets shaped like animals to affix the letter and picture to the metal door.
“One day, I’d like to take you there,” he said watching his young daughter. “I think it would be a good education for all of us. We could visit the family and maybe see something of South America.”
Erin walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. “We’d better start learning Spanish then.”
He turned and hugged her back. “Si!”
Chapter Three
“Do you think the peach jelly was a little too much?” Erin wondered aloud, watching as Jared manfully swallowed another bite of turkey dinner.
“It’s certainly, um, peachy,” he said. Then smiled at her. “But thanks for cooking it.”
She pushed another forkful of turkey into her mouth. Maybe if they hadn’t just received that letter from a little girl who didn’t have nearly the advantages that Sadie did, she’d have admitted the turkey tasted awful and given up. But she hated the idea of being so wasteful simply because the ingredients hadn’t combined as harmoniously as the Internet recipe site had led her to believe.
If she pushed enough potatoes on top of the turkey the flavor wasn’t too bad.
Sadie genuinely seemed to like the dinner. Maybe the sweetness of the peach jelly worked for her young palate.
After Sadie was finished and she and Jared had done their best to eat a full plateful of dinner, she ended the meal with an offer of ice cream.
Two eager voices accepted and she was happy to see the meal end with smiling faces.
Okay, one trial recipe flunked the test. She still had four more to try before making a final decision on which recipe she’d cook.
After dinner, Jared insisted on doing the dishes and she was so wiped out that she let him. She got Sadie bathed and read her a story, yawning over the pages.
They snuggled together in bed as they often did after story time. It was one of Erin’s favorite times of the day.
“Erin?”
“Mmm-hmm?”
“Do you think Cupid has dreams like people do?”
The dog was curled up beside the bed
making snuffling noises, then tiny yips. “I think he has some kind of dreams. I bet he’s dreaming right now of playing with another dog.”
She stroked Sadie’s curls rhythmically while they talked.
“Are we really going to visit Gabriela?”
“Maybe. It would be interesting to go to South America.”
“Gabriela sure has a lot of brothers and sisters.”
“She does.”
Sadie never asked for a baby brother or sister and Erin had a feeling that Jared had explained to her there wouldn’t be any in her future. Still, she was a well-adjusted, happy child and if the worst thing that ever happened to her was living life as an only child, Erin thought she’d be okay.
Their post-story time routine was so soothing that often Sadie dropped off to sleep while they were talking.
From speculating on what they might do in South America, they moved on to a story about a girl in Sadie’s class who threw up all over her desk that day.
Erin felt her own stomach wobble as Sadie related the story, but when she said the girl next to the sick child had taken one look at the vomiting child and chucked her own cookies, they both giggled helplessly.
“It was so gross!” Sadie had a way of laughing from her belly that always made Erin laugh too.
Lucky, she thought. She was so lucky.
“Erin?” She heard Jared’s voice coming from far away and then slowly became aware that he was shaking her shoulder and that she had been sound asleep on Sadie’s bed.
She blinked, realizing that Sadie was sleeping beside her and the room was full dark. She struggled to her feet and Jared helped her off the bed. She stumbled into the hall where a light burned and yawned hugely. “What time is it?”
“Ten o’clock.”
“I must have fallen asleep on Sadie’s bed.” Obviously.
“You’ve been out solid for two hours. I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” He rubbed her shoulders. “Hope you can sleep tonight.”
She felt tired enough to sleep for a week and, sure enough, no sooner had she washed up, changed into her night clothes and crawled into bed than she fell right back to sleep.
She woke up hours later with nausea crawling up her throat. She gasped, knowing disaster was imminent and sprinted to the bathroom just in time.
She shuddered, washed her face with shaking hands and brushed her teeth for ages.
The peach turkey. All she had to do was picture the food on her plate last night, glistening peach colored and her stomach threatened to revolt once more. She breathed shallowly forcing herself to think about something else until her stomach settled.
Food poisoning.
She panicked. Oh, no. She’d attempted to cook her first turkey dinner and she’d poisoned her family.
She crept back into the bedroom but Jared slept soundly.
Sadie.
She made her way down the corridor of the house to Sadie’s bedroom. No cries of distress met her ears. She peeked inside and saw the child sleeping peacefully, one hand curled on her pillow.
When she emerged back into the hall, the click, click, click of paws told her that Cupid had heard her roaming around the house and was coming to investigate. The second he saw her his tail began to wag and he quickened his pace. She slid to the floor, pulling him into her arms. “I’m contemplating take-out turkey for Thanksgiving. What do you think?”
He seemed to give the matter deep thought, putting his head to one side, then the other. Finally, as though he’d reached a decision, he leaned forward and licked her chin.
Then next morning she was sick again.
Jared, by contrast, was whistling when she dragged herself to the kitchen.
“Coffee?” he asked.
Even the word coffee made her shudder with loathing.
Sadie was spooning up breakfast cereal as though she felt absolutely fine.
“Are you both feeling okay this morning?” she asked carefully. She hoped they weren’t pretending they were okay when they weren’t to save her feelings.
“Never better,” Jared claimed in a voice that seemed unnecessarily cheerful.
Sadie wasn’t so quick to leap to platitudes. She put down her spoon and kicked the legs of her chair. Then said, “I feel sad.”
“Why do you feel sad, honey?”
“Because Cupid’s not allowed to come to school with me and it makes me sad.”
“But not sick in your stomach?”
Sometimes, Sadie looked at her as though she were the one who was six-year-old. “Being sad doesn’t make me sick in my stomach,” she explained. “Just sad.”
“Okay, then.” To be absolutely certain, she said, “So you’re not sick in your stomach?”
Sadie giggled. “I better not be, I might puke all over my desk at school today.” Then she chuckled, her giggle so infectious that Erin started to laugh too and Jared, who had no idea what they were laughing about, joined in anyway.
She saw them both off, careful not to kiss Jared on the mouth in case she’d caught whatever it was that had made Sadie’s classmate sick. Though, personally, her money was on that turkey.
Coffee was out of the question but after a while she felt hungry, managing a slice of dry toast and some herbal tea.
Thinking some fresh air might help, she took Cupid for a walk along the river. He was as wildly excited as though this was the first time he’d ever had such a monumental treat. It was a shorter walk than usual, but she did feel a little better after that and came home to try and get some work done.
But instead of working, she sat, staring out the window, turning her wedding ring around and around on her finger.
The ringing phone startled her out of her reverie. Normally she never answered the phone when she was working unless it was Jared or Sadie’s school but when call display told her it was her mother-in-law, she immediately picked up.
“Hi Trish.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting. I assumed you’d be working and ignore the call and I’d leave a message.”
She appreciated that Trish Gardiner respected her enough to understand that even though she worked from home, she still worked. “Honestly, I was staring out the window. I’m under the weather today for some reason.”
“There’s a nasty flu going around,” Trish said, immediately sounding sympathetic. Her mother-in-law was one of her favorite people in the world and the first to volunteer to help if Erin ever needed anything. She was a world class chatterbug, but a lovable one.
Erin really hoped she was suffering a fall flu bug rather than being sick from the results of her own cooking.
“I wondered if you wanted to go to a fall craft fair Saturday. It’s in the old church hall and I go every year. There’s a combination of rummage sale and handmade crafts. It’s a great way to get a jump start on Christmas shopping.”
All she wanted to do right now was sleep but by Saturday she was certain she’d be feeling better, and she’d enjoy a day out. “Yes. Absolutely.”
By Saturday, however, she wasn’t feeling better. Jared put a hand to her brow and checked for fever. “I don’t think you’re hot, but I can never tell.” He put his hand to her forehead, then to his and back again. “But if you don’t feel better by Monday I think you should go see the doctor.”
“I will.” She dressed slowly, stopping a couple of times to rest while he watched her, concern shadowing his eyes.
“You sure you’re okay to go to this craft fair with my mom?”
No, she wasn’t well enough for a craft fair. She wasn’t well enough to get out of bed but she couldn’t stand feeling this way any longer. At least a change of scene might do her good.
Trish was her usual cheerful self when she arrived to pick Erin up. In her hands was a tin of homemade oatmeal cookies. Sadie ran up to give her grandma a hug and Jared said, “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”
Cupid plopped down on his butt right in front of Trish, doing his starving dog who’s been soooo good he ought to get a
treat routine.
Erin accepted the tin of cookies and carried it into the kitchen. As she eased open the lid, the aroma of fresh baked oatmeal cookie wafted up and a bout of nausea hit her so hard she had to back away and breathe slowly.
“Coffee, Erin?” Jared asked, measuring the dark roast into the coffeemaker.
“No thanks. I think I might have a little herbal tea.”
Sadie was halfway through a cookie, and since Cupid was licking crumbs off the floor it seemed fair to surmise that his pathetic starving puppy routine had worked its magic once again.
Trish settled at the kitchen table and Sadie ran to show her their latest photo and letter from Ecuador, which her grandmother duly admired.
“Erin, if you’re feeling under the weather, you know I’d be happy to host Thanksgiving.”
“No. It’s fine. I’m completely prepared.” Except that she hadn’t even settled on a recipe yet.
“Well, let me know what I can bring. I make a mean pumpkin pie.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.” Everyone had pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. Really, she planned to be a bit more creative than that.
Chapter Four
The church hall was packed with shoppers and local craftspeople as well as volunteers who were selling donated items from books to furniture to raise money for charity.
They rummaged happily through table after table of everything from mismatched silver cutlery to old dishes, a handsome old gramophone, items of furniture ranging from an ancient recliner with a ripped leather seat to bona fide antiques with prices to match. There was fabric and dolls, and, to Erin’s delight, a huge section of costume jewelry, enough of it vintage that she could happily wade through the plastic and junk to get to the good stuff.