by Terri Reid
“I will,” Mary replied.
Mary watched Ruth glide towards the cemetery and then slowly fade away.
“Ruth was here, wasn’t she?” Chandler asked, walking up to Mary and gazing over at the cemetery.
“Yes, she was,” Mary said. “And she asked me to tell you that she was lucky to have you as a friend.”
He shook his head. “No, I was the lucky one.”
Chapter Fifty-two
Bradley pulled the cruiser into the driveway and looked over at Mary, sound asleep in the passenger seat. He really hated to wake her, but she needed to sleep in a bed, not a car. He got out of the car and walked over to the passenger side and opened her door. “Sweetheart,” he whispered. She smiled in her sleep and snuggled further into the upholstery. “Sweetheart, you need to wake up just enough for me to help you upstairs.”
“Okay,” she murmured, not moving from her position.
He shook his head. “I really hate to do this,” he said, pulling out his phone. He accessed the same application he’d used at Granum to block any listening devices, but this time he accessed a noise that was water running. Once it loaded, he held it close to her.
The sounds of water dropping, dribbling and flowing surrounded her, and suddenly Mary’s eyes shot open wide. She turned to Bradley, her voice urgent. “Thank goodness we’re home,” she said, her voice still a little drowsy. “I really have to go to the bathroom.”
He helped her from the car and into the house. She hurried to the bathroom on the first floor while he turned off the application on his phone. “Works every time,” he laughed softly.
A few minutes later she came out of the bathroom and yawned widely. “I’m so tired,” she said. “But there’s something I still have to do tonight.”
Bradley shook his head. “No, there’s nothing you have to do tonight,” he said, “but sleep.”
“I can’t. I made a promise, and I can’t break it,” she said.
He put his arm around her and helped her up the stairs. “Mary, you will be exhausted tomorrow if you don’t get some sleep,” he said. “Whatever it is can wait until the morning.”
“But…” she began.
He turned her towards him and kissed her softly. “I love you,” he said.
“That’s not fair,” Mary whispered.
He smiled and kissed her again. “I know,” he said, leading her to their bedroom. “But tonight you are going to sleep right beside me so I can hold you and try to forget the horror I felt when I thought I’d lost you.”
She looked up at him. “Bradley,” she began.
He stopped and kissed her again. “I love you, Mary O’Reilly Alden,” he said. “And right now, we are going to bed.”
Chapter Fifty-three
Mary woke the next morning to find the space next to her in bed was already empty. She glanced at the clock. It was already eight-thirty. How could they let her sleep so late? She hurried to the bathroom and then threw on her robe to hurry downstairs, her hair askew and sleep still in her eyes.
“Ma,” she called as she came down the stairs. “How could you…”
She froze on the steps when she heard Bradley’s voice. “Darling, before you come down, I just want to let you know that your brothers and Ian and Gillian are already here,” he said.
He walked over to the staircase and started up the stairs to meet her. “In case you weren’t quite put together,” he added in a whisper.
She put her hand to her head, felt her hair and took a couple of steps backwards. “How bad…” she stared.
He followed her up and stood on a step below her so they were face to face. “You look like you just tumbled out of bed,” he whispered roughly, “which is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.” He reached up and stroked her cheek. “And if we didn’t have a house filled with friends and family, I would show you just how much I want you right now.”
She smiled and leaned forward, placing a kiss on his cheek, then moving back. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” she said, scrunching her nose. Then her smiled widened. “So, I look pretty bad?”
He grinned back. “You’re a hot mess,” he said.
She laughed aloud and nodded. “Okay, I’m going back up to shower,” she said. “How’s Thanksgiving? Are we going to have to eat delivery pizza?”
“Your mom called Rosie last night and told her what was going on,” Bradley said. “Rosie came over at six, and she and your mother have been in the kitchen doing magical things all morning.”
Relief flowed over Mary, and she felt tears fill her eyes. “How come I’m so lucky?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Because you’re married to me,” he teased. “Now go upstairs and get ready. You have a half-hour before the parade starts.”
She leaned forward and kissed him again. “Okay, I’m going.”
Twenty minutes later, a showered, dressed and polished Mary came down the stairs, feeling much more confident to face the day. As she stepped from the staircase, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” she called, and she turned to open the door.
“Joyce? Bill?” Mary asked, stunned to see Jeannine’s parents standing on her front porch.
“Who is it, Mary?” Bradley asked, coming up behind her. “Joyce and Bill! What a surprise.”
Joyce reached out and took Mary’s hand in hers. “I hope it’s not too much of an imposition for us to come for Thanksgiving,” she asked.
Mary’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “It’s not an imposition at all. It’s a…it’s a…” She wiped her hands over her face to get rid of the tears and try to get hold of her emotions. Finally, she just gave up and threw her arms around Joyce. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Bradley ushered them inside. “There’s someone I think you should meet first,” he said. “Then you can meet everyone else.”
Mary stood with them, holding both of their hands as they waited next to the front door for Bradley to return. A moment later Bradley came from the kitchen holding Clarissa’s hand.
“Hi,” Clarissa said. “Are you coming for Thanksgiving?”
Joyce nodded as her eyes filled with tears and her lips quivered with emotion. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes we are.”
“Great,” Clarissa replied. “‘Cause we’ve got lots of food.”
“Do you, young lady?” Bill asked, his voice tight. “Well that’s good to hear because I’m hungry.”
“Clarissa,” Mary said. “This is even better than you think. These are your grandparents. These are your mommy Jeannine’s mommy and daddy.”
Clarissa’s eyes opened wide. “For real?” she asked.
“For real,” Joyce replied, her voice shaky.
“So, I have more people who love me?” she asked.
Tears flowed unchecked down Joyce’s cheeks as she nodded and bent down. “Yes, sweetheart, you do,” she said. “You certainly do.”
Clarissa launched herself into her grandmother’s arms, and Bill bent over and held them both in his embrace. Mary laughed softly when she met Bradley’s eyes and saw the tears in them, too. “Happy Thanksgiving,” she whispered.
He smiled at her. “Yeah, it is.”
Chapter Fifty-four
Arm in arm, Mary walked Joyce into the kitchen a few minutes later to introduce her to the rest of the family. Mary was surprised when Joyce slipped away from her and enfolded Margaret in a hug.
“Thank you,” Joyce whispered to Margaret. “You were right.”
Margaret hugged her again. “I’m so happy to see you here,” she said, “where you and Bill belong.”
Timothy came forward and shook Bill’s hand. “It’s grand to meet you,” he said. “We’re to watch the parade in a few moments and then take the kiddies to the park for a game of football. Would you be interested?”
Bill smiled. “Sounds like a lot of fun,” he said.
“It is,” Timothy said with a warm smile. “We grandpas get
to sit on the sidelines and yell at the young men and tell them what’s what.”
Bill’s smile widened. “Now, that sounds like even more fun.”
Rosie came over to Mary and gave her a quick hug. “I hope you don’t mind that I came over early,” she said. “Your mother told me what an adventurous night you had. Goodness, I can’t believe you’re on your feet.”
“I am so grateful that you came over,” Mary said. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you and Ma.”
“Well, dear, that’s what we’re here for,” Rosie said. “Now, we didn’t want to take away all of the fun, so we left the Parker rolls and the corn pudding for you. The turkey’s in the oven, the pies are all done and,” she leaned closer and whispered, “Clarissa’s cake is in the basement, staying cool.”
The quilt, Mary thought with a sigh. There’s no way I’ll be able to get it done on time.
“Are you all right?” Rosie asked.
Mary nodded. “Yes, there was a project I was working on, and I just don’t think I’m going to be able to finish it,” she said, trying not to sound sad.
Rosie smiled. “Well, don’t worry, dear,” she said. “Things always work out the way they should.”
Mary nodded mutely and then moved back into the fray of family, introducing Joyce to the rest of the group.
“You’re looking radiant, darling,” Ian said, placing a kiss on her cheek. “How’s the wee bairn?”
“I think he’s either a gymnast or a ninja,” she said with a smile. “He’s moving all the time.”
“Ah, well, he’s probably just practicing a good Scottish jig for when he’s wearing the kilt I bought him,” Ian teased.
Mary stared at him, her brows furrowing. “So, it’s your fault he keeps me up all night,” she teased back.
“Ach, no, you’re right. It must be the ninja moves,” Ian said, lifting his hands in surrender. “I’m certain no self-respecting Scot would be dancing the jig all night long.”
“Iffen there was such a thing as self-respecting and Scot in the same sentence,” Stanley said to Ian with a chuckle.
“Well, certainly not the one who’d be seen with you,” Ian replied easily.
“You’ve been seen with me a time or two,” Stanley countered.
Ian grinned. “And who would be calling me self-respecting?” he asked with a laugh.
Stanley chuckled. “Well, I’ll keep being seen with you,” he said, “as long as we don’t have to have any disgusting, Scot-like food for dinner.”
Ian turned and winked at Mary. “And did you get the makings for the Thanksgiving haggis?” he asked.
Mary nodded. “Oh, yes, and Rosie agreed that it would be much better to serve haggis instead of turkey and stuffing,” she replied. “It’s in the oven now.”
Stanley studied Ian and then Mary and shook his head. “If there ain’t an animal what said, gobble, gobble, gobble afore he died in that oven, there’s gonna be trouble.”
“Do sheep say gobble, gobble, gobble?” Mary asked.
“Aye, in Scotland we train them to do that,” Ian replied. “And they also fly on occasion.”
“Well, this ain’t Scotland,” Stanley grumbled. “And there weren’t any Scots at the first Thanksgiving.”
Ian looked surprised. “You don’t know?” he asked.
Stanley eyed Ian suspiciously. “What?”
“About Myles Standish,” Ian said.
Stanley placed his hands on his hips. “What about Myles Standish?”
Ian leaned forward and whispered. “He was Scottish, from the Isle of Mann, he was.”
“That ain’t so,” Stanley said, shaking his head.
Ian shrugged. “Look it up,” he replied.
“Fine, I will,” Stanley grumbled. He looked around. “Bradley, do you have a computer I can use?”
“Sure, Stanley,” Bradley replied. “You can use my tablet.”
“Well, I guess we’ll see what’s what,” Stanley said to Ian before he sauntered across the room.
“Was Myles Standish really Scottish?” Mary asked Ian quietly.
Ian shrugged. “No one’s really sure,” he said with a smile. “But he did own property that he inherited on the Isle of Mann, so he could have been Scottish.”
“You are so bad,” Mary said.
Ian chuckled. “Aye, and Stanley loves it.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, he does,” she agreed.
Chapter Fifty-five
A few minutes later, the front door opened and Katie Brennan walked in. “Okay, cinnamon rolls and parade at my house,” she called.
Mary shook her head. “What?”
Katie shrugged. “Oh, we have a little surprise for you,” she said. “Bradley and I decided that the men and the kids should watch the parade at my house, and then go straight to football from there.”
“Okay, everyone,” Bradley called, “grab your coats and off we go.”
“Clifford is waiting on the front porch for you,” Katie said to Bradley, slipping off her coat. “Have fun.”
Bradley hurried over and gave Mary a quick kiss. “What?” she asked, still confused.
“Katie will fill you in,” he said. “Love you.”
The room was emptied in less than a minute. Mary stood, a little dazed, in the middle of the kitchen. “What just happened?”
“Are they gone?” Margaret O’Reilly called from upstairs.
When did Ma go upstairs? Mary wondered.
“Yes,” Katie called. “You can bring it down.”
Mary watched in wonder as Margaret and Rosie carried the quilting frame downstairs and set it up in the middle of the room. Margaret smiled at her daughter. “We thought we could all give you a hand with this,” she explained.
Mary felt tears threaten again. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this emotional about Thanksgiving before,” she teased, wiping away a few stray tears. “Thank you so much.”
They all pulled chairs around the frame, and Katie threaded needles, handing them out to the group.
“I’m so glad Katie is threading these needles,” Rosie said, accepting hers from Katie. “My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
Margaret laughed and nodded. “I was handing Mary needles and thread for me quite a few years ago,” she confessed. “I think they’re making the holes smaller these days.”
Katie chuckled. “Well, we’re going to have to teach Maggie and Clarissa how to quilt so we have needle threaders in our future,” she said.
“Do you really think we could get them to sit still long enough to quilt?” Mary asked.
“I used to quilt when Jeannine was little,” Joyce said, pushing her needle into the fabric. “She and I would sit and quilt together.”
“That must be why she started this quilt for Clarissa,” Mary said. “She was carrying on a legacy.”
Joyce wiped a tear away. “Thank you for letting me do this with you,” she whispered to Mary. “It means a great deal.”
“It means a great deal to me that you came,” Mary said. “We’ve all missed having you and Bill in our lives.”
With the sounds of the Thanksgiving Parade in the background and the smells of dinner cooking in the oven, the women chatted and stitched the quilt until it was completely finished.
“Now all we have to do is sew on the edging,” Joyce said with a smile. “What if we do it by hand, too?”
“Sure,” Rosie said. “That shouldn’t take any time at all. And I always think stitching done by hand lasts longer than a machine.”
Katie nodded. “We could use a blind stitch,” she suggested. “Or even a ladder stitch.”
“Oh, a blind stitch would be lovely,” Rosie said, “especially with this satin binding.”
Mary looked over at her mother and smiled. “Perhaps while you are all blind and ladder stitching, I could start forming the Parker House rolls.”
Rosie looked surprised. “Are you sure?” she asked. “This is the fun part.”
Mary ch
uckled. “Oh, I am completely sure,” she said. “But I am thrilled to know the quilt is in such capable hands.”
She pushed her chair away from the table and walked into the kitchen. Her mother joined her a moment later.
“It’s strange,” Mary said, her voice lowered so it wouldn’t reach the other room.
“What’s strange?” Margaret asked.
“It’s strange that you and Joyce seem like old friends and yet you only met her for a quick moment at the funeral.”
Margaret caught the twinkle in her daughter’s eye and smiled. “Isn’t that the oddest thing?” she chuckled.
Mary hugged her mom. “Thank you for whatever you did,” she said.
“I didn’t do a thing,” Margaret insisted. “I only issued an invitation.”
Mary could hear the soft chatter and the laughter coming from the other room. She started to walk to the refrigerator when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Turning, she went back towards the living room and gasped softly. Jeannine’s ghost was standing next to the quilt and looked over at Mary, her eyes filled with joy and gratitude.
Suddenly Joyce stopped sewing and looked up. Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she exclaimed, wiping away the moisture. “But for a moment I felt like my Jeannine was here with us.”
Mary nodded. “Me, too,” she whispered. “Me, too.”
Chapter Fifty-six
The quilt was wrapped up and hidden, and the rest of the Thanksgiving preparations were complete. The furniture had been pushed back, and several large, folding tables were set up in the living room with an assortment of chairs from the various households. White tablecloths covered the tables, and an assortment of colored-paper leaves and turkeys were scattered in the middle of the tables for the centerpieces.
Bradley carried the turkey out into the living room and set it in the center of the table.
