She smiled at him. “Good morning. Did the phone wake you?”
Bryan shook his head, turned, and opened the refrigerator. He pulled out a carton of orange juice and reached for a glass in the upper kitchen cabinet. “I should have been up about an hour ago to help you. I’m sorry.” The juice splashed onto the counter as he poured. He grabbed a towel and wiped the spot clean.
“No.” Rebecca waved her hand toward Bryan. Her pink polished nails shone in the kitchen light. “It’s good to see you resting. I know you’ve been working very hard on those cottages as well as trying to get your business up and running. An extra hour of sleep is good for you.”
“What time is everyone coming?” Bryan took a big swig of his juice and swallowed. “Do you want me to set the table?” He pointed to the napkins, rings, and paper turkeys. “Lauren has created a masterpiece again.” He smiled.
Every year, Lauren created something for them to set on the table. At least this year, he recognized the paper items as turkeys, which hadn’t always been the case. But they all pretended to know exactly what Lauren had created.
“Sawyer, Lauren, Lisa, and Maddie will be over about one o’clock. Adam should be right behind them. He said the trails are a mess with the rain, but the roads down the mountain are fine,” Rebecca said.
Bryan could see the mental checklist in his mother’s mind and smiled. She had always juggled everything beautifully. She had raised four kids, served on multiple town committees, and managed the library for years. Bryan had never seen her forget anything or anyone.
“Rylee is coming with her Dad at one-thirty. She said her Dad needed to run to the store and pick up a few ingredients for the yams.”
“Her Dad is coming?” Bryan stopped with his juice glass halfway to his mouth.
Rebecca tucked a spare wisp of hair behind her ears. Her cheeks flushed pink. “He arrived late last night. I guess it was a surprise, but he wants to spend Thanksgiving with her. She asked if it would be all right to bring him. Of course, I couldn’t say no.” Rebecca said and smiled. “Hosting Jeff Harper will be the talk of Cranberry Bay.”
Bryan’s heart lifted with a hope bigger than he had ever dared think possible. Something must have changed with her father. He was here, in Cranberry Bay, and coming to dinner at his family’s Thanksgiving. Rylee told him her father was the reason she couldn’t stay in Cranberry Bay. Surely, this must mean something had changed. Something for the better.
“What can I do to help get things ready?”
Rebecca broke from her dreamy stare at some distant place on the kitchen wall. “If you’d keep any eye on the turkey and baste it I’d really appreciate it.” She lowered her eyes and drew circles with her finger on the tablecloth. “Your Dad always did the turkey. He’s been gone so long now, but I still miss him, especially at the holidays.” Her voice took on a sad and wistful note.
Bryan reached over and touched his Mom’s shoulder. “You’ve done a great job on your own, Mom.”
Rebecca spoke, her voice soft. “I always tried hard to give your Dad a good holiday season. His childhood holidays were never happy. They were filled with his Dad’s drinking.”
A dark feeling jumped into Bryan’s chest. He knew about his Dad’s childhood. Bryan’s grandfather died in a car accident on his way home from a bar when Bryan was just a baby. Dad said it was the final result of a long drinking career. But knowing what had happened didn’t make his own memories of Thanksgiving with his Dad any better.
Dad had been in charge of the turkey while Mom worked on the side items. She had taught each child how to prepare the cranberry salad, peel the potatoes, and roll out the piecrust. When Sawyer turned ten, Dad said he was old enough to help with the turkey preparations. He had given Sawyer the job of basting the turkey. That year, Bryan stood at his position at the counter and rolled out a piecrust. He wanted Sawyer’s very important job of filling the baster with the thick, buttery juices from the turkey pan and dribbling them over the white handkerchief placed on top of the bird. Bryan couldn’t wait for the following Thanksgiving when he turned ten. He assumed it would be his turn to baste the turkey.
But the next year, Bryan had been outside, putting away his skateboard when Dad asked Adam to baste the turkey. When he protested, Dad gave him one of his hard stares and told him that if he had been in the kitchen, he would have been asked. Bryan clenched his teeth and his new braces bit into the sides of his cheeks. He vowed next year would be his turn. But by the following year, Dad had died, leaving the whole experience to be etched in Bryan’s mind as a place where he just didn’t measure up to his father’s expectations.
Now Bryan opened the oven door and a whiff of turkey hit him. He grabbed a hot pad and pulled out the oven rack. Bryan carefully dripped the juices on top of the handkerchief. By now, he had basted the turkey more times than he could count, but he still harbored the small, unsettled feeling of not measuring up. Sometimes he expected Dad to appear into the kitchen, yank the baster from his hands, and give it to one of his brothers.
For the next couple of hours, Bryan busied himself taking care of small tasks around the home. He changed a couple of hard-to-reach lightbulbs in the ceiling, replaced the battery on the smoke alarm, and fixed a bathroom towel hook that had come loose. All the while, he was trying not to allow himself to get too carried away about Thanksgiving dinner, Rylee, and her father.
At one o’clock, Sawyer, Lauren, Lisa, and Maddie arrived in a sweep of energy and noise. Lauren danced into the kitchen and demanded she be the one to help set the table and place the turkey place cards. She wanted to seat everyone where she wanted to seat them. Rebecca mentioned there would be an extra guest, Rylee’s father. Immediately, Lauren pulled out her tin of colored pencils and construction paper and began making a turkey for his place setting.
Lisa stepped into the kitchen. She carried a handful of orange-and-brown aprons. Lisa handed an apron to her mother. She helped tie the long ties across Mom’s back in a neat bow. Lisa slipped on a matching full-length apron with a ruffled middle pocket. She covered up black dress slacks, a black turtleneck sweater, and a colorful red scarf with an orange fringe. Lisa’s gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears and caught the light as she turned and fitted Lauren with a child-size apron made from the same fabric as Rebecca’s. Lauren twirled around the room as tears gathered in the corners of Rebecca’s eyes, and she quickly turned to wipe them away.
“Nice aprons, Mom.” Maddie stood in the doorway. She crossed her arms.
“I have one for you too,” Lisa said to her daughter. She handed her a beautiful blue-and-yellow apron, which matched another one in her hand. “Your apron matches with Rylee’s. I made them from the same vintage pattern.”
“Will you tie it for me?” Maddie’s eyes sparkled. A small smile crossed her lips as she turned to Lisa. For a minute, no one moved as mother and daughter shared the moment. Lisa stepped forward and embraced Maddie in a large hug.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” Adam’s deep voice called out as strode into the kitchen. His arms were filled with bags of cherries, cranberries, oranges, and apples. Adam placed everything on the kitchen table and walked over to give Rebecca a big bear hug. Though the youngest of the Shuster siblings, he towered over all of them. His body was strong and lean from his days working on the mountain trails and campgrounds.
By one-thirty, the house oozed with the holiday cheer. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and Lauren and Maddie played a board game. They sat on the couch with the game between them and laughed as the pieces kept falling off the board. Lisa curled in the plush oversized chair. She tucked her legs beneath her and talked to Adam, who rocked back and forth in the old rocking chair.
In the adjoining dining room, Sawyer placed glasses and silverware around the long oak table. Occasionally, he stopped to reprimand Lauren for her over-enthusiasm with the board game, as she shouted through the small, cozy rooms.
Bryan opened the oak china cabinet. Carefully, he pulled out a stack of p
lates.
Sawyer took the plates and said, “I saw your riverboat agenda on the City Council staff report that went out this week. I’ll work on getting supporters to back the project. How is your part of the bet coming?”
Bryan opened his mouth to respond as the doorbell rang.
“I’ve got it!” Lauren hopped up from the couch. She spilled game pieces everywhere and danced to the door.
“Raisin!” Lauren knelt down to embrace the dog. Around his collar, he wore a festive handkerchief with turkeys printed on it.
Rylee stood in the doorway. Her long black raincoat was open over a brown knit dress with a cowl neckline. She had pulled her hair up into a knot at the back of her neck. Strands of her long hair draped down and showed off a small set of pearl earrings and a gold necklace with a seashell, both which Bryan knew she’d found at Ivy’s antique shop. Her cheeks glowed pink, and her eyes sparkled. She held a loaf of bread in her hands that was covered with a red-and-white checked dishcloth. Beside her stood a tall man who wore dark jeans and a light tan sweater.
Across the room, Rylee gazed into Bryan’s eyes. He didn’t hear or see anyone else in the room. Immediately, he stepped toward the door as Raisin bounded away from Lauren and toward the kitchen. Lauren screamed and ran after Raisin.
“Whoa!” Sawyer called out. He grabbed his daughter’s sleeve as she flew by the dining room table. “Get the dog under control.”
“Sorry. I’ll get Raisin.” Rylee’s cheeks flushed bright pink as she rushed into the room and collided with Bryan. Her body slowed, moving into his as if they had always belonged together. He reached out his arm and wrapped her lightly around her waist, and steadying her. “It’s okay.” He looked down at her and smiled. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.” Rylee’s eyes sparkled at him and made him feel he could do anything.
Rebecca stepped into the room from the kitchen. She wiped her hands on her apron. Her cheeks blushed pink as she stepped forward and extended her hand to Jeff. “Welcome home to Cranberry Bay. We’re so glad you could join us.”
“Come on.” Bryan placed his hand on Rylee’s lower back. “I’ll show you where to place the bread.” He guided Rylee into the kitchen, where Lisa engulfed Rylee in a large hug. She pulled the last apron from the hook by the counter. “Your apron for the festivities.”
Rylee thanked Lisa and placed the apron around over her head. Bryan stepped up and took the ties from her. Their fingers met, and he caressed her palm and inner wrists without saying a word.
“Come on you two.” Lisa nudged Bryan. “This is a working kitchen. We’ve got a Thanksgiving meal to serve before everything gets too cold.” She turned around and stirred a pot full of steaming mashed potatoes.
Bryan flushed at his sister’s comments and, touching Rylee’s shoulder, moved to the stove to pull out the turkey. In minutes, the countertop was filled with cranberries in a rich deep red sauce, steaming mashed potatoes, and a rich green salad. The turkey gleamed on the stove top with rich buttery sauces coating the skin. The family quickly formed a line, well-practiced by many Thanksgivings together. Plates were filled, and everyone moved into the dining room, where great laughter followed over Lauren’s festive turkey place cards and her arrangement of seating. Bryan was secretly thrilled to find himself seated next to Rylee.
Once everyone took their seats, Rebecca stood at the head of the table. She’d taken off her apron and wore a simple, black dress. It was the same dress she’d worn on holidays for as long as Bryan could remember.
Rebecca raised her glass in a toast. “On Thanksgiving, we have always had the tradition to go around the room and say one thing we are grateful for. I’d like to continue that tradition by saying that I am very grateful to have all of you home this year.” She looked to the end of the table and smiled at Lisa and Maddie. Tears filled her eyes, and she quickly sat down and took a long drink of her white wine.
Seated to the left of Mom, Sawyer stood and raised his glass. “I am also especially grateful to have all of the family here. Especially my daughter, Lauren.” He smiled at Lauren who grinned back at him. “But,” he paused. “I am very grateful this year to have just landed a new commercial contract to build a set of three new buildings on the far edge of town.”
Applause filled the room as Rebecca said, “How wonderful! This will mean new jobs in Cranberry Bay.”
“Yes,” Sawyer straightened his shoulders. “It’s a commercial deal for a set of popular stores and will bring more options to this area, including the beach towns as well as Cranberry Bay.”
“But what about our local Cranberry Bay stores?” Bryan asked and frowned. “How will these new big chain stores impact them?”
“It won’t be a problem,” Sawyer said smoothly. “The stores going into the new development will not compete directly with ours. The people of Cranberry Bay will still shop our smaller, local stores because it will be more convenient than driving twenty minutes south. But the addition of these stores will allow for a greater choice of goods without needing to go into Portland.”
“Mmmm…” Bryan muttered, not convinced at Sawyer’s words but also not wanting to squash the new development and jobs for Cranberry Bay.
“I have news too,” Adam raised his glass and stood. “I have been awarded a large state grant to improve the trail system around the mountains. The grant will allow us to put in new pathways, including a couple new campgrounds. One can be developed into a place for school groups and summer camps.”
Rebecca’s eyes shone. “What wonderful news! The library will want to be a part of a children’s camp. We can offer activities to the kids and books for them to read while they are at camp.”
Lisa smiled at Rylee and stood up. “I am going to be working with Katie as the new marketing manager for both her shop and a new idea we are working on.” She winked at Rylee. “But I can’t say anything more than that.”
“Does this mean you’re staying?” Rebecca asked her daughter hopefully.
Bryan reached over and took Rylee’s hand. He squeezed. He wanted her to know he hoped she was staying too.
“Yes.” Lisa glanced at Maddie. “At least for awhile.”
Bryan looked around the table at all his siblings and their successes; each one in his or her own way was trying to help support Cranberry Bay and bring new life back to the town.
Suddenly, Lauren jumped to her feet. “I am grateful for Rylee and…” she looked around the room and spied Raisin, lying with his head between his paws and staring up at the turkey on the table “Raisin!”
The whole table exploded into laughter as Rylee’s Dad stood and cleared his throat. “I guess I am next. I am grateful,” he said, raising his glass, “to old friends who open their hearts and their homes to me. And…” he looked down the table at Rylee, “for my daughter.”
Rylee’s ears flushed pink, but a grin crossed her face, and light shone from her eyes. Her father sat and patted her shoulder. “You’re next baby girl.”
Slowly, Rylee stood. Her voice shook as she said, “I am also grateful for friends who open their hearts and homes at Thanksgiving, and for those who help me work on the cottages.” She smiled down the table at Maddie and raised her glass. “I am grateful to Maddie.”
Maddie’s face flushed with the compliment. She pushed back her chair and stood with her back straight and tall. “I am grateful to people who give me a second chance.”
The connection between Maddie and Rylee was clear. In a flash of insight, Bryan realized how much Rylee had done by simply allowing Maddie to be with her, day after day, never asking any questions, never asking what had happened to lead her to Cranberry Bay. Instead, she had just accepted her and opened her heart and let her into her life.
“Bryan,” his mother said. “We skipped you, but I think you’re the last person to speak.”
Bryan stood slowly. He looked around the table at his siblings, nieces, mother, Rylee’s Dad, and his eyes finally stopped at Rylee. “I a
m grateful,” he said simply, “for Rylee.”
Rylee’s ears flushed and the light shone in her smile. Bryan raised his glass to her as a solid knowing filled his heart. He loved Rylee, and he couldn’t participate in the bet. He cared too much about her. He couldn’t allow her to be used as a pawn. It would break her heart if she ever found out, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen. As soon as possible, he’d tell Sawyer the bet was off. He’d win the City Council’s approval on his own volition and not his brother’s. Then, after he had proved himself to the town, he would tell Rylee how much he still loved her.
Chapter Fifteen
The scent of evergreen drifted from the candle burning at the front counter of the New Leaf Sewing Shop. Rylee cut and measured yards of fabric for a line of customers while Lisa replaced the cloth bolts on shelves. Festive white holiday lights hung from the outside windows and cast their glow into the dark evening of the long Thanksgiving holiday shopping weekend. After a busy day, both Sasha and Ivy had finally shut their shop doors and sought comfort in the sewing shop. Both women leaned over different ends of the long table in the back of the shop and pinned their apron patterns.
Katie sorted through misplaced patterns at the file cabinet. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, but a cheerful smile broke across her face as she glanced up at the groups of shoppers walking among the fabric. There had been a steady trail of customers for the past two days, and Katie had been kept hopping with requests for holiday fabric, sign-ups for December ornament-making classes, and gift certificates.
Lisa stepped up to the counter and ran her hands through her hair. “Beth Dawson was in the shop earlier today. She asked me about our proposed vintage market.” Lisa frowned. “I think we could have a problem with getting the City Council’s full approval. Councilwoman Beth Dawson is head of the annual Craft Fair hosted at the high school. It’s been her baby for years. She sees our vintage market as competing with her project.”
“Beth Dawson?” Rylee placed a bolt of fabric in a metal bin on the edge of the counter. “She sells coffee at the highway rest stop stand?”
Sweetheart Cottage (Cranberry Bay #1) Page 14
