While putting the groceries away, Wade debated how to proceed. Or whether to say anything, since that risked a fight unlikely to produce a resolution.
“You buy any beer?” Daryl called.
“Didn’t realize you were out of it.” Since he disliked yelling from one room to another, Wade walked to where he could see his father. “Phil replaced my battery today.”
“Yeah?”
“I was surprised you weren’t there.”
“My drinking is my business.” So much for the cautious approach; his father had leaped right to the main point.
“It’s Phil’s business, too,” Wade observed testily. “He’s a nice guy, but if the work piles up, sooner or later he’ll hire another mechanic.”
“He can take that lousy job and shove it.” Daryl hefted his can, glared at it for daring to be empty and crumpled it. “I deserve a real job, the kind I’m trained for. You tell Mike Aaron he oughta hire me.”
Wade tried not to show his dismay. “Have you applied?”
“Sent him a résumé. Never got a response,” Daryl retorted. “I’m a seasoned hand and I’d bring in clients. My father founded the place, in case he’s forgotten.”
If Wade’s father believed he was in any shape to take on a job requiring dependability and discretion, he’d lost touch with reality. Most likely, it was the alcohol speaking.
A knock on the door provided a welcome interruption. A tenant’s oven was on the fritz. Daryl went to inspect it, muttering that he’d have to pay double for a repairman on the eve of a holiday.
In the kitchen, where Wade resumed stowing his purchases, he mulled Daryl’s idea of working at Fact Hunter. With luck, his father would drop the subject. Wade hoped so, because there was no way Mike Aaron would hire him.
Not unless his father made a lot of changes. And that wouldn’t happen overnight.
* * *
BY LATE AFTERNOON on Thanksgiving Day, Adrienne’s house smelled of sausage-and-sage stuffing. She had fresh yams ready to put in the microwave and a salad in the refrigerator. A pumpkin pie sat on a side counter.
The problem was the turkey. She’d bought it two days ago, assuming it would thaw. This morning, she’d discovered the inside still frozen, the packet of giblets too solidly attached for removal. She’d bathed it in cold water, changing the water every half hour, and had finally brought it to a passable level.
She hoped to stuff it quickly, but she hadn’t counted on Reggie. “This is what my dad’s doing today, right?” he asked.
“Yes, he is.” Adrienne wished they could share this task. It would be fun cooking together. Well, maybe another day.
“Let me do it, too. Please!”
Despite running late, she agreed. Her nephew washed his hands—thank goodness—and then, without waiting for instructions, began shoving handfuls of stuffing from the bowl into the bird.
“Wait!”
“Why?” he demanded.
“We haven’t removed the giblets.” Explaining that those had to be cooked separately, she emptied the turkey and they started over.
It was two o’clock when the bird—stuffed, tied and giblet-free—went into the oven. With an estimated four-hour cooking time plus an hour of standing before carving, it would be a close race to eat dinner before they left for Mary Beth’s house at seven-thirty.
Adrienne set to cleaning the kitchen. Through the window, she saw that the predicted rain had begun to fall.
Despite her efforts to relax, she kept reviewing the wedding arrangements. She’d told the rental service to leave the tables and chairs for forty guests folded under the patio cover. Harper and Peter would arrive at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow to set them up and hold a quick walk-through of the ceremony. But if the lawn didn’t dry off, they’d have to activate their emergency backup plan and move everything indoors.
What was I thinking when I offered to a host a wedding? That it would be a lot of fun, Adrienne recalled. And perhaps it still would be.
In the family room, she collapsed into an upholstered chair. With a long night ahead, she could use a nap.
The phone rang.
Please don’t let that be Labor and Delivery. Today of all days, she wasn’t prepared for the charge nurse to summon her early.
Grimly, Adrienne fumbled in her pocket and drew out the phone.
* * *
THANKS TO THE SPICES Wade had infused the previous day following the instructions in the cookbook, the turkey emerged from the oven at three o’clock deliciously browned and smelling irresistible. Daryl followed his nose into the kitchen. “Let’s eat!”
“It has to sit for an hour before I carve it.” Wade planned to follow a video, since turkey carving was no simple matter.
“Who invented that rule?” his father grumbled.
“The salad’s ready, if you’re hungry.”
“Rabbit food.” Daryl returned to the couch and the stash of beer he’d replenished last night. Wade resented that his father wasn’t even trying to moderate his drinking. The main point of cooking this meal and missing the holiday with Reggie had been to prevent a binge like this. Not that his father had agreed to that premise, but he could expend a little more effort to be sociable.
In Wade’s pocket the phone vibrated. It was Adrienne, he saw with a lift of spirits. “What’s up?”
“They need me at work early.” She sounded near tears.
“On a holiday?” He bristled on her behalf.
“I’m sure the moms in labor would wait if they could,” she replied. “The problem is that a lot of doctors are out of town, and the obstetrician on duty can’t handle everything.”
“You have to go in right away?” He wondered if he dared suggest she drop Reggie off there. Given Daryl’s unstable mood, that was a dicey proposition.
“I discussed the situation with Zack Sargent—the OB who has this shift—and he can hold the fort alone for another hour or so,” she said. “But my turkey won’t be done until six. Also, I reached Mary Beth and honestly, I could tell it’s a major imposition to bring Reggie early. She wasn’t thrilled about babysitting tonight in the first place.”
“Tell her she’s relieved of duty. I’ll be over in...” Wade made a quick mental calculation. “Give me half an hour—forty-five minutes max.”
“What about your dinner?” she asked.
“Turkey’s out of the oven and my sweet-potato casserole’s done.” He’d break the rules and carve some meat for Daryl. “What else should I bring?”
They compared notes. She had salad and pumpkin pie and didn’t mind saving her yams to eat another day. “I can whip up the mashed potatoes from a box. What about gravy?”
That had to be fixed with drippings from the bird. Although he’d suctioned them into a pan, he hadn’t added seasoning or thickening yet. “I’ll bring the liquid with me. Shouldn’t take long.”
“You don’t mind?” she asked. “You’ll need to pull my turkey out of the oven when it’s done.”
“No problem.” There’d be a huge supply of leftovers, but they could always freeze those.
“Reggie will be thrilled,” Adrienne said. “You’re a saint.”
“No one ever called me that before.” The compliment warmed Wade. “I’ll fix a plate for my father before I go.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Sympathy quivered in her voice. “That poor man, alone on Thanksgiving.”
“He’ll hardly notice I’m gone,” Wade assured her, bitterness creeping into his voice. “He can watch football and swill beer in peace.”
Too late he realized he should have skipped the sarcasm. From the doorway, Daryl glared at him.
“See you in a bit,” Wade said. “Gotta go.”
“Thank you a thousand times.”
“I’m glad someone appre
ciates me.” After clicking off, Wade faced his father. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that my own son disrespects me.”
Having apologized once, Wade didn’t intend to do it again. “Guess I learned my bad manners from Grandpa.”
His father’s anger, always easily provoked, wasn’t about to fade. Instead, Daryl fixed on another cause for complaint. “You have no intention of putting in a good word with Mike Aaron, do you?”
Let’s not get into that now. “It isn’t my place to order my boss around.”
“You think I’m unfit for your job.” His hands flexing, Daryl braced for a fight.
Since it seemed impossible to avoid an argument, Wade told the truth. “As long as you keep drinking, I can’t recommend you.”
“You owe me!” The words burst out.
“Owe you for what, exactly?”
“For how hard I’ve worked,” his father snapped. “All the sacrifices I’ve made.”
Wade’s patience evaporated. “You’re not the only one who made sacrifices. I grew up rescuing you from bars when you were too drunk to drive, doing your laundry, fixing your meals, getting you up and into the shower when you were hungover so you wouldn’t lose your job. Dad, I’ll help you fight this thing if you’ll let me, but I refuse to pretend everything’s fine. It isn’t.”
“Get out!” Rage contorted Daryl’s face. “Take your damn clothes and clear out of my apartment.”
“Fine.” Wade hadn’t meant to cause a breach, and he’d have preferred to move out on good terms. But he had a place to stay tonight, and he’d rent a place after that.
He threw his possessions together and carried them to the car. On his return he found Daryl in the kitchen, eating stuffing and yams piled on a plate. Quickly, Wade cut off both turkey legs and thighs and left half the apple pie, as well.
He poured the drippings into a jar, put the turkey and pan into a large shopping bag and scraped the rest of the yams into a disposable container. He’d already spread a couple large towels in the trunk in case anything spilled. “I’ll let you know when I’m settled.”
“Whatever.” His father stared down at his plate.
Wade replaced the spare key on the Peg-Board and took the remaining pie. By some miracle, he reached his car without dropping anything. Reviewing the blowup en route to Adrienne’s, he conceded that he shouldn’t have insulted his father, but he’d apologized. Now they were alienated, just like him and Grandpa.
Not setting a very good example of family togetherness for Reggie, was he?
On Adrienne’s street, her house glowed with welcome. The fading November sunlight played lovingly over the cream-and-blue paint and the cheerful plantings. The orange-and-violet birdlike flowers rose on long stems from the bird-of-paradise plant while his yellow miniature rose added cheer to the low-growing border.
She’d planted it. Wade was touched.
He opened his trunk and was deciding what to take inside when Reggie ran out. “Daddy!”
“Hey, sport.” Crouching, Wade braced for impact.
After the hug, the little boy helped cart in the food. Bringing his suitcase as well as the turkey, Wade inhaled pleasurably as he stepped into the house. Dinner smelled even better here than at the apartment.
In the kitchen, Adrienne grinned at him, brushing back a strand of blond hair that had escaped her clip. She’d set three places in the breakfast nook with fine china and silverware.
“I figured it would be cozier to eat in here than the dining room,” she explained. Beneath her apron she wore navy slacks and a dark pink blouse. Perhaps the layers she had on or the heat from cooking accounted for the blush on her cheeks.
With time running short, they divided the tasks, Adrienne making gravy and Wade—watching the video—carving the bird. Reggie disappeared, only to pop in and announce, “I put Dad’s suitcase in Mom’s old room.”
The room where Vicki used to sleep. When Adrienne’s forehead puckered, Wade feared she might reprimand the boy, who’d meant well. “That’ll keep my stuff out of the way when people arrive early tomorrow,” he said. “There must be a lot of preparations still to make.”
Adrienne sighed. “Yes. Good thinking, Reggie.” She closed her eyes wearily.
“You okay?” If Wade’s hands hadn’t been occupied with carving, he’d have reached for her.
“After I called you, Harper phoned to say their deejay is down with the flu. I’ll have to commandeer one of the guests to run the music.”
“I can do that.” Wade didn’t mean to intrude, since he hadn’t been invited to the wedding. “If it’s not presuming too much.”
“Presuming? You’re doing us a favor.”
“Yay!” Reggie danced around the kitchen. “Dad’s the music man.”
Since he’d be sticking around until tomorrow evening, Wade put in, “Why don’t I stay over Friday night? I’m spending Saturday with Reggie anyway.”
“That’ll give Mary Beth a longer break. She could use one.” Adrienne said. “Thank you. I seem to be saying that a lot, don’t I?”
“And I never get tired of hearing it.”
As for being temporarily homeless, Wade decided to save that news. He’d choose a moment when Reggie wasn’t around to urge that Daddy move in.
Tempting as the idea was, putting pressure on Adrienne might destroy this tentative bond between them. For now, Wade was simply glad to be in a real home for the holiday.
Chapter Ten
On Thursday night everything went well in Labor and Delivery. Babies were born quickly, the influx of laboring moms diminished and although Zack had a wife and two daughters at home, he stayed late to perform a C-section. “We had our holiday dinner last night,” he explained.
Adrienne managed to catch four hours’ sleep. Meanwhile, according to the weather report, the rain had not only passed out to sea but been replaced by a mild Santa Ana condition. That meant drying winds and warm temperatures, perfect for the wedding.
When Reggie announced that he’d put Wade’s belongings in Vicki’s room, Adrienne had nearly ordered him to move them to her old bedroom, which she’d vacated for the master suite. However, she was even less comfortable with the notion of the virile male sleeping in her bed than in her sister’s.
In the morning, Wade more than earned his keep. He helped arrange chairs and tables and set up the rented sound system. He tied yellow and red balloons to the front porch and posted neatly printed signs directing guests into the yard through an inconspicuous side gate.
Instead of growing impatient with having Reggie underfoot, Wade seized every opportunity to teach—how to hold a hammer and how to lift rather than drag the chairs. The boy complied willingly.
Adrienne retreated to the kitchen, where she found Peter’s mother, Kerry, a retired teacher, setting out plastic champagne glasses. “I’ll handle the food when the caterer arrives,” Kerry said. “I’m sure you and our new daughter-in-law have plenty of other things to do.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I prefer keeping busy.” The older woman brushed at her misty eyes. “Now shoo!”
With Stacy and Cole weaving chrysanthemums through the wedding arch and Harper’s brother, Jake, handling other tasks, Adrienne took a deep breath. Slow down. Everything’s under control.
She and Harper shepherded Mia upstairs to dress. The little girl twirled about in the master bedroom, her green-and-gold dress bringing out the green of her eyes. “After today Peter’s my daddy for real!” she cried. “Isn’t he, Mommy?”
“Yes, he is.” Tall and elegant in her scarf-hemmed cocktail dress, its colors coordinated with her daughter’s, Harper met Adrienne’s gaze over Mia’s head. “I’m glad the surrogate isn’t due to deliver the twins until June. Mia needs this time with her new fa
ther and me.”
“Can I go downstairs now?” her daughter begged.
Harper applied a brush to an errant tuft of the girl’s hair. “Now you’re ready. Help Grandma Kerry, okay? No playing in the yard.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Off she scampered.
“I’m so happy you’ve found love again.” Adrienne slipped on her own dress, which had a subtle autumn-leaf design.
“Thanks.” Harper took a seat at the vanity. “I just can’t help thinking about the people who aren’t here. Especially Vicki.”
“My sister would be thrilled for you,” Adrienne said. “But I miss her, too.”
“And my parents.” Harper adjusted a gauzy hat atop her smooth honey-colored hair.
“I’m sure they’re here in spirit.” Adrienne came over to place the hat at a more flattering angle.
“Perfect!” Harper grinned. “Now, what’s the deal with Wade?”
“What about him?” To forestall further questions, Adrienne asked, “You don’t mind him being here, do you?”
“Heck, no.” In the mirror, her friend’s eyes widened. “A volunteer deejay? What a blessing. But I wondered... I mean, he’s practically living in your house.”
“Only for a few days. We had a babysitting emergency last night.” With a twinge, Adrienne recalled Reggie’s invitation to his dad to share their home. Having him live there would be convenient. And dangerous. She wasn’t even sure Wade wanted to live with them, she reminded herself.
“You have a babysitting emergency practically every week,” Harper teased as she applied makeup. “Your schedule is murder.”
“I’m used to it.” That wasn’t entirely true. Last night when the charge nurse had called, Adrienne had come close to having a meltdown.
A knock drew her to the door. She admitted the photographer, a bearded young man who positioned the two of them for a few shots. With the door open, Adrienne could hear people arriving downstairs.
The show was about to begin.
* * *
OVER THE YEARS, Wade had attended his share of weddings, most involving fellow officers. He’d never taken part in one, though. While he’d formed friendships at work and hung out with other guys, he’d never grown close enough to be invited as a groomsman. Hadn’t given it a moment’s thought, either.
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