“You know I can never say no to your cooking, Mama.” He went to the sink to wash his hands, but Margaret swatted at him with the dishcloth.
“Boy, if you don’t get to the bathroom and wash your hands…” She tried again, but he dodged the towel, hurrying out of the kitchen. Then he came back, wiping his hands with a paper towel.
The sparkling barrette that held Faith’s neat ponytail caught his attention, causing him to skim her profile. Even without makeup she was beautiful in a fancy denim dress that had sequins on the pockets, and closed-toe, wedge-heeled shoes.
Michael sat down at the table, beside Faith, and whispered, “You look absolutely beautiful to me,” giving her a wink. He could tell that Faith was blushing because she turned her head, dodging eye contact.
Finally, she faced him and smiled. “Thank you.” She picked up her cloth napkin from the table and spread it across her lap and Michael did the same.
“I asked your mother if she would work with me on some items for the shop,” Faith announced.
Michael wanted to pull Faith into his arms at that moment and kiss her senseless. She was so loving and he was appreciative to her for considering his mother’s talent.
Michael dropped his napkin on the table, got up and rushed over to his mother, lifting and turning her around, before placing her back on her feet.
“Mom, that is so awesome for you.” He watched his mother’s facial expression as she beamed with pride. “So, are you going to do it?”
Margaret opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a large bowl filled with mixed greens, baby tomatoes, shallots, with a strawberry vinaigrette, and placed it on the table.
“It is a great opportunity, son, but I think I should take it slow.” She turned her back and went to the stove.
Michael squinted at her because he knew that there was more to his mother’s hesitation than she was letting on. “Aw, Mom, come on, you’ve been making clothes for folks since I was a little boy. This would be the same thing, just on a bigger scale.”
As soon as Michael returned to his seat, Faith placed her soft hand on his thigh to calm him. “I’m not trying to pressure her,” she said softly.
He realized that Faith was attempting to make the offer seem not so frightening to his mother. It was an excellent opportunity for a person like his mother, who had been a seamstress for almost all her life. Being given a chance like this in her retirement was monumental.
Margaret brought to the table a beautifully decorated soup tureen filled with a piping-hot liquid, before taking her seat across from her son. “I just don’t want to bite off more than I can chew.”
Faith reached over and grasped Margaret’s hand. “Don’t worry. We’re going to do this together. If you’re not comfortable, we won’t pursue it further.”
Margaret squeezed Faith’s hand back in acknowledgment. “Thank you, my dear. I really am excited.”
Michael didn’t want to hear that, because he knew his mother could do it, but he wouldn’t push it since it was only a matter of her getting used to the idea. Then she could do things in her time. But watching his mother and Faith interact was satisfying since they’d always had a good relationship. It made his heart glad because they were his two favorite people in the world.
“I think we should celebrate,” Michael suggested, still wanting to rejoice over the new venture. He also wanted to spend more time with Faith.
“We are celebrating with lunch,” Margaret replied, picking up the salad bowl.
“I’m talking about a nice restaurant, linen napkins, wine and food that you didn’t have to stand over the stove and prepare,” Michael explained, hoping that his mother wasn’t going to turn down the celebration because she was going to say no to Faith’s proposal.
“Why don’t you two go ahead and have a good time. I’ve got to finish Mrs. Barnes’s dress for Sunday and then I’m going to rest.” She gave Michael a wink.
“You sure, Mom?”
“Yes, I’m sure. You two go on and have a good time. I’ll go next time.” Removing the lid from the soup tureen, Margaret served her old-fashioned cream-of-chicken-and-wild-rice soup with a Mediterranean salad and iced sweet tea.
“Why don’t you come over to my parents’ for dinner this evening, instead of us going out?” Faith offered.
“Are you sure it won’t be an imposition?” Michael could have done the happy dance because he didn’t care where they were, as long as they were together.
“Of course not and my parents would be happy to see you.”
“What time should I be there?”
“Then it’s settled. Come over around seven o’clock.”
Michael’s day couldn’t have gotten better—eating good food, spending time with his favorite ladies and later dining with great friends.
Faith left the Montgomerys’, heading over to Smith Construction, owned by Ezell and Gordon Smith. She’d received an email from Maria recommending them as excellent contractors to work with on her commercial renovation. Their office was about fifteen minutes away, so she arrived just in time for her three-o’clock appointment.
The company was housed in a large commercial brick building located on the corner. There was an ample amount of parking for clients and employees. Walking into the building, Faith could feel the hominess of the family-owned company. The atmosphere was warm; they’d used some neutral browns and dark reds. As she approached the reception desk, she noticed that there was no one there to greet her, so she walked over to the sitting area and took a seat.
With her legs crossed at the ankle, Faith leaned forward, picked up a popular home-and-garden magazine from the rectangular oak table in front of her. She thumbed through the pages as she waited for someone to greet her.
Looking up from the magazine, she saw someone walking toward her in the distance. As the woman got closer, Faith figured from the hurried pace that she’d been seen.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.” The woman offered her hand to Faith.
Faith stood, noticing the woman’s cat-eye glasses with rhinestones scattered around the frame. She was wearing a kelly-green-colored sweater and white turtleneck. Her hair was a shimmering silver, styled with tight curls that hadn’t been combed out.
Faith shook the older woman’s hand.
“You must be Faith McClendon, our three o’clock,” the woman said.
Faith nodded. “Yes, I am.”
The woman smiled. “My name is Lucy Smith.”
“Pleased to meet you, Lucy,” Faith said, assuming that Lucy was also related to the owners.
“I’ll tell Ezell and Gordon that you’re here,” she said, turning to walk away, but stopped and turned back. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No thanks.” Faith smiled. “I’ll just sit here and wait.” She returned to the chair just vacated. Faith was still full from the lunch she’d had with Michael and Margaret, who clearly was in a class all her own when it came to putting together an elegant garment.
Two casually dressed men came down the hallway toward her. Both men were extremely handsome, and Faith guessed that they were Ezell and Gordon. The taller of the two men was dark-skinned with ruggedly handsome looks, along with piercing black eyes. The other man was light-skinned and not as tall, but equally handsome.
The taller one approached her first, extending his calloused hand to her. Faith had to will her eyes to move away from his—they were so dark and mysterious—then they dropped to his perfectly shaped lips. “Good afternoon, Ms. McClendon. Ezell Smith, pleased to meet you,” he said before stepping aside.
The other gentleman extended his hand to her as well. “Gordon Smith, Ms. McClendon, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Faith nodded and said, “Great to meet you both. I’m excited to see what you can do to help me.”
Gordon gave her a pearly-wh
ite smile. “Wonderful, so let’s go into conference room B so that we can get a better feel for what you are trying to accomplish.”
The conference room was only a short distance from the reception desk. Decorated very professionally, it had a gorgeous long, oval chocolate-colored wooden table with black chairs. The cream walls displayed professional paintings.
Ezell pulled out a chair for Faith.
When she looked at him to say thanks, Faith saw this gleam in his eye that kind of unnerved her. She hoped that he wasn’t trying to flirt, because she really didn’t have the time. But in all fairness to him, Faith admitted that she needed to stop staring at him, but there was something about his eyes and those long, hooded lashes.
“Thank you,” she said before sitting.
Gordon had the most mesmerizing gray eyes and Faith realized she was really going to have to concentrate while working with these two extremely good-looking brothers.
They took their seats close to Faith, and Gordon opened a folder, skimming through what she thought were handwritten notes.
“We received an email inquiry from Maria Tanner, along with photos of the space you’re looking to renovate. Can you tell us a little bit about what you’d like the transformation to resemble?”
Ezell picked up a remote control and pointed it toward the wall. Within a few seconds, a white screen descended from the ceiling. He inserted into the main computer an object that looked like a tiny disk, and the photos of the building appeared on the screen.
As each photo was shown, Faith explained to them what she wanted in that space. After two hours, they had completed every aspect.
“We will need to go and see the space as soon as possible. Then we can apply for the appropriate licenses and permits to start the renovation,” Gordon said.
Ezell leaned forward. “Do you have a deadline for opening your shop?”
“I would like to have my grand opening on Black Friday so that I can compete with the other shops for the first official day of the holiday-shopping season,” Faith said.
Ezell and Gordon gave each other a questionable glance before Ezell said, “That’s doable and I will personally oversee the project on a daily basis.”
Faith was relieved to hear that, but wondered if Ezell supervised all their projects, or was it just hers? Right now she wouldn’t worry about it. Faith was just glad she had another task checked off her list.
“We will send you the paperwork and you can have your attorney look it over. As soon as we execute the contract, we can begin.” Gordon stood and reached over to Faith.
Accepting his hand, she shook it generously and tried to do the same with Ezell, but he held on a little longer.
“Let me walk you to your car,” Ezell said coming around the table, extending his hand in order for her to walk in front of him. “After you.”
As she made her way to the reception area, Faith couldn’t help but wonder if the tall man was watching her hips sway.
Once she got to her car, Ezell shook her hand again. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Faith. Please don’t hesitate to call us if you have any questions.”
Faith got into the Maxima, pressed the button to start the car and noticed that Ezell was still watching her, even after she pulled out of the parking space.
Twenty minutes later, Faith pulled into her parents’ driveway and spotted Jennifer’s minivan parked against the curb, which made her smile. She hadn’t seen her niece and nephew in a while and had gotten used to cuddling them when they stopped by. Faith got out of the car and went inside.
“Hey,” she said loudly as she walked through the house to the kitchen where she heard the humming sound of a mixer. Her mother was preparing dessert.
“I saw Jenn’s car outside. Where are the twins?” Faith’s volume went down a notch once her mother turned off the mixer.
Myra stopped, glancing over her shoulder. “Well, hello to you too.” She went back to her task.
Myra McClendon stood five foot seven inches tall, and at fifty-eight years old, she didn’t look a day over forty-five, dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a black- and white-striped pullover. Faith grinned at her mother’s response.
She playfully threw her arms around Myra’s neck. “Hey, Mama,” she exclaimed before resting her chin on her mother’s shoulder. Faith could tell that Myra was trying to stifle a laugh, but in the end she couldn’t.
Her mother stepped to the side and sniggled, shooing Faith away. “Girl, get out of here. I’m trying to get this cake ready for dinner.” Picking up the spatula, she folded the batter several times, pushing it down on all sides, preparing to pour it into the cake pans sitting on the counter.
Faith braced an elbow on the granite top and rested her chin on the heel of a hand. Myra exuded love for her family each time she stepped into the kitchen. Watching her mother as she stirred ingredients, humming while preparing meals, was always a treat because her movements were ever smooth and effortless.
They’d had a lot of heartwarming and truthful conversations in that kitchen, about any- and everything, while her mother cooked. When she and her sisters got older, they would all be in there together, cooking and singing, which was so much fun. And now Faith was back to participate.
As Myra used the spatula to scrape the contents into the pans, she watched Faith. “Looks like you had a good day. Everything go okay?” she asked, paying more attention to her task.
Faith leaned on the other end of the counter, clasping her hands together. “Yes, I’ve had a full day, but it was fruitful. I went to see Mrs. Montgomery earlier and even had lunch with her and Michael.”
Myra raised an eyebrow. “Is that right? I haven’t had the chance to speak with Margaret in a while, and I missed Michael when he came over the other night to pick you up.” Myra’s lashes fluttered. “So how are you two doing?”
“We’re getting to know each other. Oh, by the way, I invited him to dinner.” Even though it wouldn’t matter, Faith was glad she’d remembered to tell her mother that Michael was coming.
Myra’s eyes widened. “That’s nice. He’s always been a great person and friend to you, in my eye.”
Faith had to agree because when she thought about it, she’d never known a time that Michael wasn’t loyal. Just a great person all around, and she’d hated treating him badly—but she had to catch herself before she got too far down the guilt highway.
“I also found a contractor to do the renovations for the boutique. I really like the work that they showed me and they have assured me that they will be finished in time for my grand opening on Black Friday.”
Myra stopped what she was doing and turned around to face Faith. “You haven’t signed anything yet, have you? You have to be careful with these folks out here.”
Faith sighed. This was the reason she hadn’t said anything to any of her family members, not even her sisters, about what she was doing. She was grateful to her family for being concerned about her well-being, but she wanted them to trust that she was making the right decisions for her life. She wasn’t ten years old, trying to get the flat tire on her ten-speed bike fixed. What she was doing would determine the path for the rest of her life.
“No, Mom, I haven’t signed anything because I need Mr. Bingham to look over the contract first. They are sending the contracts over to him right away, so that the upcoming holiday won’t delay anything.”
Before her mother could say anything else, Faith added, “And, yes, I’ve already contacted Mr. Bingham. He is on the lookout for them and told me not to worry. If he finds something he doesn’t agree with, he’ll call me.”
Everyone in the McClendon family trusted and consulted Garrison Bingham for all of their legal matters. A dear friend to her Aunt Francis, she introduced him to her parents when Myra needed legal advice opening Good Scents Aromatherapy back in the early 80s.
Myra
smiled, turning around to complete her task. “Good, baby. Very good.”
Faith tried not to have an attitude, but lately she could blow things out of proportion and speak in a tone that was not her personality. She knew that it came from going through the divorce and having to speak up for herself. She liked that part, but was trying not to make negative assumptions so quickly.
After a silent pause, Myra said, “Faith, I know you’re a grown-up, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying about you.”
Faith saw the concerned expression and understood that her mother was worried. But Faith had had a long day and didn’t want to talk about it any further, so she needed to exit quickly.
Faith pushed herself from the counter. “I’m going to find Jenn. I’ll be back.” She kissed her mother’s cheek once again before leaving the room.
Just as she got to the front of the house and rounded the stairs, she heard keys jiggling in the front door. She waited to see who it was, and as soon as the door opened, she heard Renee and Patrice giggling.
Faith met them in the foyer. “Hey, what’s up?” she asked them.
“You just kicked us to the curb,” Patrice said, barging her way into the room, dropping her purse in the chair against the wall.
“I did not, I’ve just been busy,” Faith said in her own defense. She understood her sisters were getting used to her being around all the time now, but Faith needed them to understand that she had to get her life together first, then she would be able to hang out with them more.
Renee waved her hand, shook her head and rolled her eyes upward. “Faith, Treecie knows what you’re up against, so don’t even mind her. She’s been smelling all those different aromas all day. One might have messed with her head.”
Both Faith and Renee threw their heads back and laughed, but from the scowl on Patrice’s face, she didn’t think it was funny at all.
Faith went over and playfully hugged her sister. “Ah, sugah. Don’t be mad at me,” she said, pinching her sister’s cheeks.
Patrice pushed her away, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Get out of my face, Faith.”
A McClendon Thanksgiving Page 6
