A McClendon Thanksgiving

by Sean D. Young

  Pushing herself away from the counter, Faith and Jennifer went into her home office to tackle the boxes stacked in the middle of the floor. She scanned the room, grateful she didn’t have to paint the walls.

  “Faith, where is Mikey? I just knew he’d be over here with you,” Jennifer asked.

  “He did offer, remember, at dinner the other night, but I told him that I would invite him over after I got things situated.”

  Jennifer pushed Faith’s shoulder playfully. “Girl, you should have let that man come over and help you with his fine self.” Jennifer attempted to lift a box, but immediately released it. “We needed a man just to lift these heavy boxes.”

  Faith realized that as well, but she’d thought, having the movers come and bring in everything, she wouldn’t need any muscle, but she was wrong. She opened the box that was on the top of the stack and looked inside.

  Jennifer came to stand next to her. “Did you ever think he would grow up to be that good-looking?”

  “Who?” Faith asked. She was so busy looking at the contents of the box she’d zoned out a minute and didn’t catch everything Jennifer said.

  Jennifer moved to the other side. “Girl, you know who I’m talking about. Michael.”

  Faith smiled at her sister, but didn’t respond at first because the truth was that she had never concentrated on his looks until recently. And when she thought about the way his hands felt when he touched her, the way she felt when he hugged her, it made her body do crazy things. She didn’t need to deal with that right now; she had too much work to do.

  “Stop that, and help me with these boxes.” Faith moved to one end of the box and waited for Jennifer to get the other.

  Jennifer gave her an under-eyed look. “You know I’m not lying—he’s, what, six three or so, clean-shaven, with that yummy dark-chocolate skin and muscles that go on forever.” She held on to the box and dropped her head, then quickly raised it up, staring straight into Faith’s eyes. “Girl, you can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed that fine chocolate brother.”

  Faith tried to laugh it off, but it came out as a groan because it seemed that Jennifer wasn’t relenting. “Will you please focus on what you’re doing and help me pick up this box?”

  Faith wanted Jennifer to stop talking about her friend in that way because her imagination was running wild. All Faith saw was Michael’s sensuous lips and it got her thinking about the kiss they’d shared, and that wasn’t fair. She could admit that Michael had always been easy on the eyes, but so was their brother, Laurence.

  Jennifer stepped away from the boxes. “Girl, I’m not breaking my back trying to lift that heavy box. You need to start taking things out of it.”

  Faith knew that—she’d only wanted Jennifer to focus and stop talking about Michael. It was the only thing she could think of at the time.

  The women busied themselves in organizing the home office, her supplies for measuring, marking, cutting, pressing and sewing, then put her mannequins in each corner at the back of the room. By the time they set up her computer and sewing machine, Faith’s energy had waned.

  “I’m hungry. Would you like something to eat?” Faith asked.

  Jennifer glanced at her watch. “Yes, then I won’t have to pick up something on my way back to the salon and try to gobble it down before going inside.”

  “Are things any better with the owner?”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Some days things are fine, but then, others, he starts that nit-picking again.”

  Faith stopped and stared at Jennifer. “Is this the guy who inherited the salon from his sister or somebody that died tragically?” She couldn’t remember the story that Jennifer had told her last year about the previous owner.

  “Yes, this is the same pain in my rear.”

  “Maybe he complains all the time because he really doesn’t want to be bothered,” Faith said, concentrating for a moment. “You know what, Treecie has a good point. Why don’t you feel him out and see if he wants to sell?”

  Faith saw Jennifer’s lips turn down and she knew she was going to reject the idea. She walked over to her and gently grabbed her shoulders. “We are going to help you figure things out. I promise.” She hugged her baby sister. “Now, let’s go and find some food.”

  The two women walked into the sparkling-clean kitchen, which Renee was finishing up. Faith viewed every space and all the boxes were gone. She opened the cabinets that were filled with dishes, pots and pans. Her small appliances, like her NutriBullet blender, waffle iron, toaster and George Foreman grill gleamed on the counters that went on for days.

  “Girl, you are fast.”

  “This is a big kitchen and you had a lot of stuff,” Renee said, opening the bottom cabinet, pulling out a frypan. “You’re going to have to let me borrow some of these fancy cooking pans.” She turned the skillet over to read the label.

  “Why, you don’t even cook?” Jennifer said, teasing.

  Renee waved her off and looked pointedly at Faith. “Since you said you didn’t care about the canned goods, I just arranged things the way I liked it.” Renee giggled, watching the other two women.

  “Are you guys finished?” Renee asked Faith.

  “Hell no,” Jennifer said. “We came for food.”

  “With everything you brought me, I can whip something up pretty quickly,” Faith said, opening the fully stocked refrigerator. She closed the door and stared at Renee. “This is awesome, girls, for real.”

  Jennifer stepped up and hugged Faith. “We’re just so glad you’re back, we hadn’t seen enough of you in person the last few years.”

  Faith didn’t visit the family often because their get-togethers always clashed with some business event, gallery opening, charity auction or something that Kevin had to go to. He wanted Faith by his side all the time to impress upon the partners at his investment firm that he was a family man with a stable home life. Faith went along to show her support for her husband, but it was nothing but a crock of bull.

  Renee came close to Faith as well. “Yes, and this is much better than FaceTime.”

  Faith smiled. “Okay, I’m going to reward you by making a fabulous meal in less than fifteen minutes.”

  Jennifer walked to the threshold of the kitchen. “I’m going to go and unpack another box while you’re doing that, so holler when the food is ready.”

  “I’ll go and help,” Renee said, moving out of the room.

  Faith loved her sisters because they were good-hearted people who genuinely cared about each other. Showing up today was proof, because they didn’t have to do it.

  Faith pulled out all the ingredients she needed to prepare a meal.

  Fifteen minutes later, as promised, she’d prepared shrimp-leek-and-spinach pasta, which they enjoyed as much as they did each other’s company.

  Soon Faith said goodbye to them, thanking them once again for coming to help her.

  After locking the door, she threw herself onto the couch and closed her eyes. Everything else would have to wait—she was so tired, and she didn’t think she could open one more box or organize another shelf. She had to get some rest so she could go to the shop tomorrow and see how things were progressing.

  Later that evening, Faith got a text message from Michael. I hope that you’re comfortable in your new place. I can’t wait to see it. Sweet dreams.

  She smiled and texted back good night before falling asleep.

  Chapter Nine

  It took Faith a few more days to unpack because she spent so much time at the shop. At first it bothered her, not having the house spotless, but then she remembered that she was working toward the goal of opening her own boutique.

  Friday rolled around so fast Faith didn’t have time to cook the meal she had promised Michael, but didn’t want to cancel their dinner. She was excited about spending some time with him. Embarrassed that sh
e’d invited him for a home-cooked meal, she quickly came up with another idea. She would order takeout from a fancy restaurant and prepare everything else the way she’d originally planned it.

  Faith considered three restaurants, but settled on Fleming’s Prime Steakhouse because Michael was more of a meat-and-potatoes man.

  Faith pulled out the fancy china that was a gift from her parents, a beautiful ivory tablecloth, with an appliqué, hand-stitched border, that she found in a little shop in Paris, hand-dipped taper candles and cloth napkins with matching rings. Then she set the table.

  Standing in front of her bedroom mirror, Faith searched her jewelry box to find just the right accessories to go along with her custom-tailored pantsuit. After trying on several pair of earrings, nothing seemed to go with the outfit. “It will be okay,” she said, wondering why she was so nervous about jewelry, of all things.

  Just as she slipped her one-carat-diamond drop earrings through her lobes, the doorbell rang. She rushed to let Michael in.

  Faith smoothed the front of her outfit, took a deep breath and opened the door.

  “You look beautiful,” Michael said, handing her a box wrapped in foil, and carrying a beautiful plant.

  She could feel her cheeks burning at the compliment, but it was something about his voice that got her attention first. Deeper than she remembered, it had a smoky, sexy tone causing her eyes to meet his gaze.

  When their eyes connected, the description Jennifer gave of him was as vivid as the words she used to describe him. Michael was a beautiful specimen of a man and Faith asked herself why she hadn’t noticed before how gorgeous he looked. Her gaze dropped to his lips then her senses became acutely aware of the cologne he wore, making her want to step closer to him.

  Faith looked down and saw him holding a plant. “What’s this for?”

  “It’s a housewarming gift.” He walked inside, closing the door behind him.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Michael. I didn’t invite you just to get presents.” She hoped that she hadn’t given him the impression that she was looking new items for her apartment. But even if she’d told him not to, Michael would have ignored her request, so there was no need to get in to it with him.

  Michael shrugged out of his coat. “I just wanted to give you a little something.”

  “I’m not too good with plants,” Faith said.

  “There are instructions that come with it or maybe I’ll come over and water it,” Michael said in return.

  “Let me take your coat,” Faith said, reaching for the lightweight leather jacket.

  Casually dressed tonight, Michael wore a pair of snug-fitting black Levi’s, a striped button-down shirt and some cowboy boots, but he still exuded masculinity and charm, with one earring sparkling in his left ear.

  “When did you get your ear pierced?” Faith asked, not having noticed it before.

  “It’s been years,” Michael said in response. “How do you like having a fireplace?” Michael asked as he sat down on her elegant, cream-colored leather sofa.

  “I haven’t used it yet,” Faith said matter-of-factly, moving toward the kitchen to check on the food she had warming.

  “You did have it checked before you moved in?”

  Faith stopped in her tracks, turning to face him. “Of course I did, Mikey.”

  Michael chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m just making sure.”

  Faith shook her head and went back to the kitchen. She hoped that he wasn’t getting ready to start grilling her.

  She stuck her head back out of the kitchen door. “Dinner will be ready in a minute, so sit tight.”

  “How’s the neighborhood?” Michael asked, crossing his left leg over his right.

  Dropping the kitchen towel on the counter, Faith walked purposefully out of the kitchen, determined to stop Michael from interrogating her. With her hands on her hips, she said, “Michael, you sound worse than my daddy, with all the questions. Can you please stop it already?”

  Michael got up from the sofa and didn’t stop until he stood directly in front of her. Faith didn’t let his almost-larger-than-life presence intimidate her—she stood with her back straight, shoulders square and head held high.

  She accepted his hand when he reached for her.

  “I can’t have my beautiful single friend staying here alone and not check things out. I have an obligation to make sure you’re safe.”

  Faith squeezed his hands, appreciative of his concern, but she didn’t want him to treat her like a child. “Well, that’s really sweet of you, but I’m fine. So stop worrying.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. “Now, we’re ready to eat.”

  Michael followed her into the adjoining dining room and took a seat at the table. Faith picked up the candlelighter, flicked the button to light the ivory taper candles on the table and dimmed the lights with the wall switch.

  With Michael watching her every move from the dining area, Faith continued preparing to serve dinner. “I really feel special,” he said, picking up the dinner plate and peeking at the stamp underneath. “All right! I get Wedgwood and candles. What else do you have planned for me?” He lifted his brow, smiling brightly.

  “Boy, please,” Faith said, “it’s just for effect.”

  “I know, but for whose benefit? Mine?”

  Faith shook her head and sighed. Michael always tried to aggravate her and all she wanted to do was have a nice dinner. “No, really though, I ordered the food from Fleming’s Prime Steakhouse.”

  “See, you even ordered a fancy meal,” Michael said before holding up his forefinger. “Wait. But I thought you said you were going to cook.”

  Faith wanted to punch him, but it was her fault because she shouldn’t have ever told him that she’d ordered the food. Now, he probably wouldn’t let her live it down. “Shut up, Michael.”

  Faith stood, went into the kitchen and came back with a good-sized dish of jumbo lump crab cakes, with roasted red peppers and lime butter sauce, on a decorative platter. “We’ll start with these.”

  She placed the glass dish on the table. “Enjoy.”

  She scooped one up, placing it on the small plate in front of Michael. She had sampled the delicious crabmeat a week or so ago and thought Michael would enjoy them as well.

  Faith went back into the kitchen for the main and side dishes of double-thick pork rib chops and lemon-rosemary brick chicken with garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus tips.

  “Really, Faith, you didn’t have to use your good dishes. We could have eaten out of the carton,” Michael said, assisting with the platters.

  “Presentation, Michael, presentation,” Faith said, taking her seat next to him. “Remember, it’s a special occasion, so I wanted to put the food on a platter.”

  She watched him, then rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hold in her laughter when he winked at her.

  “This is really delicious, Faith,” Michael said, chewing on a bit of the crab cake.

  Faith cut into her rosemary chicken, which had been oven roasted and seasoned very well. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it. We might need some mouthwash after all this garlic.”

  Michael threw back his head and laughed. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I smelled your funky breath.”

  Faith swatted at him with her linen napkin. “You can’t talk at all, Mister.”

  She tried to stifle a laugh, but he started making animated faces, then they both laughed so hard she almost choked on her food. Michael could be so silly at times, but Faith felt good being with him.

  After he’d finished his meal, Michael got up from his chair. “I think it’s time for you to open your gift.”

  He went into the other room to pick up the wrapped box. Handing it to her, he stood next to her, watching.

  Faith looked up at him. “Is this a gag gift? Is it going to blow up wh
en I open it?” Faith asked.

  “Of course not,” Michael said adamantly.

  “Then why are you standing over me?”—Faith wanted to know.

  “Just open the package, girl.”

  “You know how I love unwrapping things. Just listening to the way the paper tears, trying to get to the good stuff.”

  “Yep, now hurry up, so you can see what you got,” Michael said, sounding like an overly anxious little kid himself.

  Faith discovered four vintage-looking black-and-white photographs in black frames. She studied each photo before realizing that they all were of New York City, and Faith had a sneaking suspicion that Michael had taken them.

  Gently running her hand over the first photo, Faith smiled as she studied the photographed woman’s loving expression as she watched her children play in Central Park.

  She placed that photograph aside and lifted the next one of beautiful identical twins, with their hair in pigtails, playing in the sandbox. One little girl dug in the sand with her shovel while the other turned over a bucket filled with sand.

  She glanced up at Michael and said “so cute”, then put the picture down.

  There was one of two elderly men playing checkers while young boys gathered around a couple of girls trying to concentrate on a chess game. Faith couldn’t decide which she liked best because they were all very lovely and Michael’s attention to detail was the best.

  “Did you choose these for a special purpose?” Faith asked Michael.

  Michael grinned. “Of course I did. Remember that day we ran into each other at the park?”

  Faith smiled at the memory. “Yes, it was the first time I’d seen you in years.” She had been down in the dumps that day, so she went for a walk to clear her head, and she saw Michael taking pictures in the park. It was so good to see someone from home, especially that day.

  “You took these,” she said, finally sure that it was his work she held in her hands.

  “Yes, I did. I wanted to capture that moment.”