A McClendon Thanksgiving

by Sean D. Young

  For a perfect fit, sometimes you have to make a few alterations.

  The McClendon Holiday Series, Book 1

  Faith McClendon put her promising fashion career on hold to support her investment banker husband’s climb to financial success—only to be dumped for another woman.

  The thirty-year-old fashion designer has come home to Chicago to start over, this time on her own terms. Amid the lingering sting of betrayal, there’s one bright spot. A renewed friendship with childhood buddy Michael Montgomery.

  For years, Michael pretended to be Faith’s husband to fend off unwanted attention, gave her a shoulder to cry on, and cheered the loudest when she left home for fashion school. Through it all, he never stopped loving her.

  Time hasn’t dimmed the spark between them, but when another man hits on her, Michael realizes it’s time to stop hiding his true feelings. This thirty-one-year-old professional photographer is ready to pose for his own family portrait—with Faith as his wife.

  Warning: Contains a photographer who’s through being pictured in a brother-ish light, and a fashionista who’s not sure her heart is quite mended enough to risk further alterations.

  A McClendon Thanksgiving

  Sean D. Young

  Dedication

  To Josie Martin, an amazing seamstress and a very special person who has touched my life.

  “Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him and bless his name.”—Psalm 100:4

  Acknowledgments

  “O give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good…”—Psalm 118:1

  I’m grateful beyond words for another opportunity to share one of my stories with the world. I know if it weren’t for the Master… I’ll leave that there. LOL

  I’m grateful to my editor, Latoya Smith, for believing in me and the McClendon Holiday Series. It has been an awesome experience.

  I want to acknowledge the invaluable love, prayers, support and encouragement from my family who are my biggest cheerleaders. I can’t explain nor describe the love I have for each of you.

  Rochelle Alers, Jacquelin Thomas and Bettye Griffin, I appreciate you ladies for always wanting to share your wisdom and for your constant support of me as a writer.

  Thank you to Michele Robinson and Karen Brown for always being there for me. The Color of Love Book Club—Betty Williams, LaShaunda Hoffman, Angel Cason, Lisa White, Phyllis Redus, Jeanette Cogdell, Gwen Osborne, Carolyn Hall, Melissa Scriven, Trinette Blackwell, Shaboogie Williams, Shirion Simmons, Patricia Jones and Michelle Wilkes—I love you guys. I can’t wait until we are all back together again!

  To God be the glory for the things he has done.

  Dear Reader,

  Who doesn’t love the holidays?

  The magic and essence of holiday romance makes celebrating these special days with family and friends even more memorable. This year I’d like to invite you to celebrate the holidays with the McClendons. Journey with them as they realize that love really is the greatest gift anyone can give, as each of them finds everlasting love during the holidays.

  In book one, A McClendon Thanksgiving, we meet the oldest McClendon daughter, Faith, who moves back to her native Chicago to start her life over on her own terms, just in time for Thanksgiving. Her childhood best friend, Michael Montgomery, has always believed he and Faith were meant for each other, but she has always seen him as a brother. When she returns and they get reacquainted, he wants to give her more than brotherly affection. I hope you feel as I do—Faith and Michael belong together as they journey to their happily ever after.

  Next up, The Christmas Promise, where the sights and sounds of Christmas promise to touch your heart in this poignant story of love lost and found between the youngest McClendon daughter, hairstylist Jennifer, and software engineer Simeon Baker.

  I love hearing from readers. So, please visit my website at www.seandyoung.com

  Happy holidays to you and yours, from me and the McClendons.

  All good things,

  Sean

  Prologue

  A satisfied smile flitted across the features of thirteen-year-old Michael Montgomery. He stared at the tiny gold band resting on his palm. He’d swiped another one just like it last month at his Cousin Randy’s wedding reception and today was the perfect chance for him to give it to Faith McClendon. Soon, he would make her his pretend wife. Just as Randy had done with his new wife, Michael wanted to pledge his love to Faith, and putting the ring on her finger would make her his forever.

  “Come on, Mikey,” Faith whined. “I have to go home soon.”

  Michael jumped at the sound of Faith’s voice. He eagerly slid the thin gold circle, which had been used to hold the souvenir wedding scrolls together, on her finger as he recited what he could remember of what Randy had said, “I, Michael, take you, Faith, to be mine forever and ever.”

  Michael had been in love with Faith ever since he was invited to her sixth birthday party after he, his mother and his younger sister, Rebecca, moved from Birmingham, Alabama, to Chicago, Illinois. The McClendons were the first family on the block to greet them. Even though Laurence, the only son in a family with five children, came by to play baseball and shoot hoops, Michael occasionally gave in to Faith whenever she begged him to play house with her. He didn’t know why she wanted him to play house, when Faith had three sisters, but he finally understood when she said none of them wanted to pretend to be the father.

  Handing her the other ring, he said, “Now it’s your turn.”

  Faith took his left hand and held her ring for several seconds. Then she placed it on his finger and repeated what he’d just said to her, substituting her name for his, and vice versa.

  He stared deeply into her eyes. “Now, I can kiss the bride.”

  Faith pressed her hands against his chest, easing him back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She pushed out her lips. “Mikey, I don’t want you to kiss the bride. Can’t we leave that out?”

  Michael’s shoulders slumped. “Oh…okay.” He eyed his camera resting on the patio table. “Let’s at least take a picture for the memory.”

  Running across the yard, he picked up the camera. The one thing he loved more than playing with Faith and her brother was taking pictures. He raced back to her.

  “Come closer,” he said, reaching out and pulling her to his side. With an arm circling her waist, he held the camera in front of them with his free hand. “Now, on the count of three, say ‘cheese’.” Michael counted off three seconds before the camera flashed.

  They struck several more poses—one cheek to cheek and a few more with Faith holding two fingers up behind his head and then he did the same.

  Faith pulled away after the last photo. “Okay, Mikey. That’s enough because I have to go in. Tomorrow I want to play something different.”

  Smiling, Michael nodded. He didn’t care what they played now. Faith was wearing his ring, so she was his girl. “We can play whatever you want; just don’t take off the ring.”

  Faith stared down at her hand. “Mikey, this isn’t a real ring. If I don’t take it off it will probably turn my finger green.”

  His smile faded. “I know it’s fake. One of these days I’m going to get you a real one.”

  Faith’s response was a high-pitched laugh. “I’ll see you later.”

  A frown settled between his eyes as he stared at her back. She didn’t believe him. Faith didn’t believe that one day he would pick out the most beautiful diamond ring and put it on her finger. And, once on, it would never come off.

  Chapte
r One

  Faith McClendon’s contralto joined her sisters’ soprano, alto and mezzo-soprano as they sang along with the updated, Grammy-award-winning version of “Lady Marmalade”, by Christina Aguilera, Lil’ Kim, Mya and Pink. Faith had also chosen Lil’ Kim’s part because of her husky lower register. Their melodious voices filling the interior of the minivan caught the attention of other drivers, through the open windows, when Jennifer stopped for a red light.

  It was late August and downtown Chicago was pulsing with energy from pedestrians and motorists taking advantage of the warm weather. Singing with Jennifer, Patrice and Renee as they headed for Bevy, her favorite club, Faith knew she’d truly come home.

  A young man sitting in a dilapidated sedan stuck his head out the passenger-side window and waved to Jennifer. “Do you girls have a record deal?”

  A single mother of twins, Jennifer leaned out the driver’s-side window, flashing a friendly smile. “No. Why?”

  The man returned her smile, revealing a number of missing teeth. “If you pull over at the next light I can give you the 411 on how you can cut a demo.”

  Faith leaned forward in the second row of seats. “Close the window, Jenn, and drive on.”

  “Word,” drawled Patrice. Slender, with shoulder-length hair, sparkling brown eyes and flawless light-brown complexion, the aroma therapist attracted men like bees to honey. Patrice, a perfumer, was responsible for the day-to-day operation of Good Scents Aromatherapy and Day Spa and had recently been certified as a massage therapist.

  Renee shook her head. “Why do men who have nothing to offer a woman but a boatload of problems always look to take advantage of them?”

  Faith gave Renee a sidelong glance. The marketing executive with a fashionably cut bob, parted off-center, tucked several chemically straightened strands behind her right ear. She wanted to tell Renee she was only half-right. Faith didn’t blame her ex-husband for taking advantage of her inasmuch as she’d believed in his dreams more than she’d believed in her own.

  She’d become the dutiful wife who hosted elegant dinner parties for Kevin’s friends and clients, and accompanied him whenever he was invited to various fund-raisers. Her ex wasn’t like the man attempting to hustle some unsuspecting victim. Quite the opposite. Kevin was ambitious, an overachiever, and would stop at nothing to attain his goal for what he deemed ultimate success: becoming a multimillionaire. He didn’t mind working, but it was the means to which he gained his success that made Faith uncomfortable.

  Jennifer took off in a burst of speed as soon as the light changed, the sudden momentum causing Faith to hold on to the driver’s headrest.

  “Slow down, Jenn. I’m not in that much of a hurry to get to Bevy.”

  Tapping a button on the steering wheel, Jennifer lowered the volume on the satellite radio. She eased up on the gas pedal and took a quick glance up at the rearview mirror. “You may not be in a hurry, because I know after living more than ten years in the Big Apple you did hit the clubs. However, between me raising twins as a single mother and managing the salon, I can’t remember what the inside of a club looks like.”

  Patrice rolled her eyes at Jennifer. “Please, Jenn, don’t get maudlin on us. We agreed to go to Bevy to celebrate Faith’s homecoming, so there will be no pity parties tonight.”

  “Here, here,” Faith and Renee chorused from the second row of seats.

  Faith wanted to tell Jennifer that she had gone to a few popular Manhattan clubs, but that was before her marriage. Once she married Kevin, their social calendar included dinner parties, gallery showings and private get-togethers in palatial homes, hotel suites or at upscale restaurants. And at no time had she worn the same outfit twice. As a buyer for Esplanade, an exclusive Madison Avenue boutique, she alternated every other year with another buyer, traveling to Paris, Rome and Milan to catalogue the upcoming fashion trends. All eyes were on her whenever she entered the room, clinging to Kevin’s arm, because the invitees wanted to see what and who she was wearing. Patrice was right, Faith mused. There would be no pity parties tonight, or if she could help it, ever again.

  She’d returned home three days before, but for Faith it was as if she’d never been away and she knew it had everything to do with her sisters. They’d always been close when growing up, but that was not to say they didn’t occasionally have squabbles, but it was their mother who refused to have her children at one another’s throats like in some families. If Myra McClendon suspected any hostility between them, then all were grounded. Myra’s method proved successful because her daughters learned to work out their differences enough to compromise with one another.

  “It feels good to sing with you guys again,” Faith said after a comfortable silence. “I can’t believe I feel so free.”

  Patrice shifted on her seat and stared at Faith over her left shoulder. “That’s because you no longer have that jackass riding your back.”

  “Amen to that,” Jennifer and Renee said in unison.

  “What took you so long to get rid of him?” Patrice asked.

  Faith stared out the side window at the passing landscape. “I suppose some of us wake up a little later than others.”

  Jennifer shook her head. “Now, don’t you go and beat up on yourself. At least you woke up. I overhear some of the conversations at the salon where women stay in toxic relationships for more than half their lives because they don’t want to be alone, or they make some asinine excuse that the kids need their no-good, trifling daddies.”

  Faith closed her eyes. “I thought we were going to celebrate my homecoming, not talk about men.”

  “You’re right,” Patrice agreed. She smiled, the gesture reaching her eyes. “Talking about singing. Now that Faith’s back, what do you think of making a demo record? Just for us,” she added quickly. “We can play it for everyone at family get-togethers.”

  Faith exchanged a fist bump with Patrice. “I like that idea.” She and her sisters had sung in the church choir when growing up, and although they weren’t classically trained, their voices were strong and harmonious. “What are we going to sing?”

  “Nothing nasty,” Jennifer said. “Remember, I have kids and when they’re older I don’t want them to know their mama was ratchet back in the day.”

  Patrice patted Jennifer’s back. “You couldn’t be ratchet even if you tried, sis. I think you’re the most conservative out of all of Mama’s daughters.”

  Jennifer snorted. “Yeah, and the only one who’s a baby mama.”

  “Babies mama,” her sisters corrected, laughing.

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Y’all know y’all ain’t right.” She laughed with the others, maneuvering down a narrow street where former warehouses were converted into condos, lofts and Bevy nightclub.

  They took advantage of valet parking, and after showing their IDs, the hostess escorted them into the dimly lit club and over to a table seating four not far from the bar and dance floor.

  Patrice ordered a bottle of champagne and Faith didn’t have the heart to tell her sister that she wasn’t overly fond of the sparkling wine because it usually left her feeling headachy. When she’d complained of this to Kevin, his comeback was she probably had drunk the cheap brand. Cheap or expensive, the result was the same, and therefore she always limited herself to one glass.

  Faith took the responsibility of ordering appetizers. As soon as they arrived, she and her sisters lifted their glasses in a toast to celebrate her homecoming and served themselves from the tray with wings, pot stickers, baked clams, fried calamari and spinach-and-artichoke dip.

  A waitress approached the table. “Ladies, since you appear to be celebrating, the gentlemen over there would like to buy you ladies a bottle of champagne.”

  Faith stared at the four men sitting at a table several feet away. Seconds later she felt Renee kick her foot under the table.

  As if connected by mental telepathy
, the McClendon sisters smiled and chorused, “No thank you.”

  Not trying to be obvious, Faith forced a smile when meeting the grin of a man wearing a bright-green suit. “What is he thinking? It’s not even St. Patrick’s Day,” she said under her breath.

  Jennifer smothered a giggle. “Check out his friend in red,” she whispered.

  Patrice took a sip of champagne before setting down her flute. “Well, I’ll be damned. They look like M&M’S. Who does that? And where did they find green, red, yellow and orange three-piece suits? And in polyester, no less, while I’m willing to bet they’re wearing fake gators to match.”

  Renee coughed into her napkin to stop the laughter bubbling up in her throat. “Like Jenn, I’ve been working too hard and not getting out enough, but I know now not to come to a club to meet a man.” She placed her napkin on the table beside a plate and pushed back her chair. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

  Jennifer stood. “I’ll go with you.”

  Faith watched her sisters until they disappeared from her line of vision. “You know they’re going there to laugh until they bust a gut.”

  Patrice chuckled. “I think I’m going to join them, because every time I glance over at the M&M’S, I’m afraid I’m going to embarrass myself.”

  Faith nodded. “I’ll stay and watch the drinks.” It had been preached to her at a very young age by her parents that if she ordered a drink and took her eyes off it for even a few seconds, then she wasn’t to drink from the glass again.

  Spearing a piece of crisp calamari, she slowly chewed it, unaware that the four men in the colorful suits weren’t the only ones staring at her.

  Chapter Two

  Michael Montgomery’s eyes narrowed as he watched the group of women at the table not too far from his. They were talking, giggling, making faces, clinking their champagne glasses together and seemingly having a good time. From where he sat, they were beautiful, vibrant young women who looked familiar to him. They looked like the McClendon sisters, but he wasn’t sure. Michael bent forward in the chair, with his elbows resting on the table, so that he could get a better look at them.