A Sweethaven Christmas

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A Sweethaven Christmas Page 3

by Courtney Walsh


  “Maybe I could be your stand-in manager for a while.”

  “You and I working together? I’m not sure that’s a great idea.” Nick was a contractor—not a music industry mogul.

  “I run a very successful business, which I built from nothing.”

  True.

  “And is there anyone you trust more?” He pulled the car to a stop in their driveway, then turned to face her. “I think having someone who really is on your side is the most important thing here, Meg.” He lifted a hand to her cheek and brushed his thumb across it.

  “No kissing!” Finn yelled from the backseat, where he now sat with his hands over his eyes.

  Meghan brought her gaze to Nick’s and smiled. “All right, Nick Rhodes. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

  Adele

  Thanksgiving had been one of Adele’s favorite holidays when Teddy was alive. In recent years, it had been one of the more depressing holidays. Luke would come over to humor her, but the table in her dining room was meant to be filled with family—and seeing it nearly empty had been one of the saddest sights she’d known.

  But this year, finally, she’d have a full house again.

  Excitement washed over her at the thought of it. A day that combined her love of family with her love of food had surely been crafted specifically for her.

  Adele had pulled out all the stops this year, and her body was paying for it. Two straight days of cooking, cleaning and decorating and she had the spread she’d imagined. A traditional turkey dinner with all the fixin’s and, of course, an array of desserts she couldn’t wait to share. Apple, pecan and pumpkin pies, all made from scratch, along with a Texas sheet cake for the chocolate lovers.

  Her reasons weren’t purely about the joy of entertaining, though. She considered this special day research for a new project—a dream-come-true project she could hardly wait to tell everyone about.

  She smiled at the thought of it.

  Just before her guests were set to arrive, she stood back and admired the table. Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought about how different this Thanksgiving would be than it had been in the years past. She had her family back, and soon her home would be filled with the sounds of laughter, conversation and the giggles of her grandchildren.

  “Thank You, Lord,” she said out loud, trying to untie the knot in her throat. “I am so blessed.”

  The door sprang open, signaling the start of the holiday, and she knew she wouldn’t get a moment to stop and breathe until the last person walked out the door tonight.

  And that was just fine with her.

  Campbell and Luke arrived with Meghan and Nick close behind. Her heart filled at the sight of them—her family, all together under one roof. She kissed Finn and Nadia, who ran upstairs to play in Meghan’s old room where many of their toys now lived.

  “We’ll call you down for dinner soon,” Meghan called after them.

  “Tom and Lila may may show up,” Luke told her. “Can we set a couple of extra places just in case?”

  Adele nodded and handed him the place settings, deciding not to ask any questions.

  When Jane walked in, Adele pulled her into a tight hug. “Darlin’, that poem you read at the service was just beautiful. Always makes me tear up.”

  Jane refused her eyes.

  “Never mind the rest of it,” Adele said. “Bet it felt a lot worse to you than it did to the rest of us.”

  Jane shook her head and looked like she might cry. “Excuse me,” she said, rushing toward the bathroom.

  Campbell frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Adele wouldn’t allow Jane’s humiliation to become a topic of conversation—not today. “Oh, it’s nothin’. Would you mind giving me a hand in the kitchen?”

  Campbell glanced toward the bathroom, then back at Adele. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

  Before they could get started, Tom and Lila arrived. Campbell’s face fell.

  “What’s wrong?” Adele asked.

  Campbell shook her head. “Dinner with Lila’s family was, shall we say, tense?” She moved toward the couple in the entryway, and Adele followed.

  “You okay?” Campbell asked.

  Lila nodded. “I’m so sorry you had to witness the Adler family dysfunction.” She hugged Campbell, then took off her coat. Lila, usually the picture of beauty, looked tired. Maybe the pregnancy—or her mother—had worn her out.

  Her girls needed some TLC, and she was prepared to give it. Nothing she loved more than comforting the ones she loved.

  Lila met Adele’s eyes and smiled, but her eyes stayed sad. “Thank you for letting us join last minute. We picked up a pumpkin pie.” She took it from Tom.

  Adele raised a brow.

  Lila smiled. “It’s for Mugsy. Poor dog looks pathetic out back.”

  Adele laughed. “You knew better than to bring a store-bought pumpkin pie into my house for Thanksgiving.” She squeezed Lila, then Tom. “And you’re always welcome here, you know that. Especially on Thanksgiving.”

  Lila swiped a tear from her cheek.

  “Come on, now. Everything should be ready.” Adele led them into the dining room where Jane now stood between Meghan and Graham. Adele had to choke back tears at the sight. Only a few short months ago these two old friends weren’t speaking. The accident that claimed Jane’s son’s life had been a wall between them—between all of them—and finally, the Lord had answered the deepest prayers of Adele’s heart and brought them all together again.

  Could she get through grace without tears?

  “I know we have a pastor among us, but I’d like to offer thanks today,” Adele said as they all took hands. “I can’t tell you in just a few words how much you all mean to me, but having you here at my table to celebrate this holiday blesses me more than I can say.” Her throat tightened.

  “We love you too, Mama,” Meghan said and squeezed her hand.

  Adele nodded. “And help us to remember to thank You for every precious day. Not just on Thanksgiving, but throughout the year.”

  A chorus of “amens” flitted through the room.

  Adele waited a few seconds until everyone quieted. “All of you—my family—are such blessings to me. Jane, your sweet spirit and kind heart are a welcome gift in a world of people who are too focused on themselves. Lila, I am so thankful for your quick wit and the beauty you bring to my life.” She glanced at Campbell. “And we’re so happy we’ve added you to our family. It’s like having a piece of your mama right here at the table with us—only even more special because we’ve gotten to enjoy Sweethaven through your eyes.”

  She squeezed Meghan’s hand. “And you. My prodigal daughter.” Adele closed her eyes. How could she explain all that she felt? Her girl was home—where she belonged—and her heart didn’t have room to contain the emotion.

  “It’s okay, Mama,” Meghan said. “I know.”

  Adele looked at her through clouded eyes. “I’m proud of you.” She wiped her cheeks dry.

  “You know the food’s getting cold, right, Ma?” Luke winked at her from across the table.

  Adele gasped. “Oh my stars, yes. Sit. Eat.”

  “And you can say great things about me before dessert,” Luke said.

  The room filled with laughter and chatter and the sounds of clinking forks on her good plates, and Adele closed her eyes to let her senses take it all in.

  She never wanted to forget that moment.

  After everyone had tasted the food, the compliments started rolling in, and Adele not only relished them but made mental notes on what people liked.

  “These potatoes are perfect, Adele. They’re so creamy. This pregnant woman could eat a mixing bowl full of them,” Lila said, scooping up another helping.

  “Thanks, darlin’,” Adele said. “I am quite proud of those. Me-maw showed me how to make them when I was a girl, you know.”

  Amused glances criss-crossed the table.

  “What are y’all giggling about?”

  Jane smi
led. “We love to hear you talk about Me-maw, Adele.”

  “Every time we eat.” Meghan’s tone was sarcastic.

  Adele raised a brow at the lot of them. “Is that how it is, girls? I thought you’d outgrown makin’ fun of me, but I see I was wrong.”

  “I like your Me-maw stories, Adele,” Campbell said.

  Lila threw a little piece of a roll across the table at her. “You kiss-up.”

  Adele laughed. “She’s my favorite, girls. Campbell is the only one who gets dessert.”

  “You know we’re just teasing, Mama, but you really should stop giving Me-maw all the credit. We know most of these recipes are yours.”

  “I guess that’s true.” Me-maw had taught her the basics, but Adele had tweaked and changed every recipe to get it just right. “And I’ve got some related news, I suppose.” She watched as all eyes turned her way. The excitement inside her had been bubbling like a geyser about to explode. She wanted to wait for the perfect time to tell them, and here they were, all together over plates full of her food—it didn’t get much more perfect than that.

  “Mama, you look like a fox in the henhouse. What’s the big secret?” Meghan laughed and scooped up a bite of creamed corn.

  Adele held their attention for a few moments longer, letting her excitement spill over and build up their own. “Well,” she said, “I’ve been asked to write a cookbook.”

  “A cookbook?” Jane squealed. “Of course you have! It will be so wonderful.”

  “Mama, that’s fabulous,” Meghan said. “How on earth did you keep this to yourself? How long have you known?”

  “Well, it was just the darndest thing,” Adele said. “I brought a few cobblers over to the café last week.”

  “You knew about this?” Meghan shot Luke an annoyed look.

  Luke shrugged. “I just do what I’m told.”

  “And I told him not to breathe a word. I wanted to tell y’all myself. Anyway, I plopped the cobblers down on the counter and this woman was sittin’ there, having a cup of coffee. When I took the lid off, she asked me what I put in it, so I told her.”

  “You didn’t tell her everything,” Jane said.

  “Of course not. I don’t give away all my secrets.” Adele laughed. “But I told her enough.”

  Luke jumped in. “So the two of them sat there for two hours at my counter rambling on and on about cooking and baking and spices I’ve never even heard of. I couldn’t get rid of them.”

  “Oh, stop. You were eavesdroppin’ and you know it.”

  “Course I was, but it wasn’t easy. You guys sounded like a couple of cackling hens.” He imitated the two women in two high-pitched voices at breakneck speed.

  “So who was she?” Lila asked.

  “Turns out, she is an editor, and after our conversation she asked me to submit some recipes. She said she’s been looking for a down-home cookbook.”

  Jane gasped. “It’s just so wonderful. God really set you up, Adele.” She smiled.

  “I think you’re right.”

  “So you sent her your recipes?” Meghan asked.

  “Oh no, darlin’. No handwritten recipe was going to do justice to the magic I can create in the kitchen. I invited her over to sample my best work.”

  “So, why isn’t she here today?” Campbell said.

  “This is my preaudition. I need y’all to tell me your favorite dishes so I can create a menu and just knock her socks off.”

  The chatter began to build as they all recounted their favorite dishes.

  “Braised pork ribs.”

  “Mama’s meatloaf. That has to be in there.”

  “Strawberry rhubarb pie with homemade ice cream.”

  Each person had a vote, but Adele couldn’t make out who was saying what. “Just wait now.” She held up her hands. “I’m going to pass around scratch paper for everyone to write a favorite dish. This’ll be a group effort.”

  “I just know she’s going to love whatever you make her, Adele. That cookbook deal is as good as done.” It was good to see Jane smile. And Adele knew she’d find support in this group.

  Bless their hearts.

  She stood and found a stack of scratch paper and passed paper around the table. “Now, I might need some taste testers. I want to make sure every recipe is perfect. You know most of what I do is from my memory.” Adele laughed. “And that’s not the most reliable source.”

  “Adele, I am happy to taste test anything you put in front of me,” Campbell said. “I’m so excited for you.”

  Luke stood, scratch paper in hand. “I think I need to think over my options while watching the football game.” He glanced at Graham and Tom, who both stood and followed him into the living room where seconds later the television blared.

  Finn scooted off his chair next and handed Adele a piece of paper with a picture he’d drawn. Adele stared at the big circle with dark, colored-in dots on it.

  “Is this what I think it is, Finn?”

  He smiled. “I like everything you make, Me-maw, but you know my favorite.”

  “Monster cookies.”

  “Do you have some here?”

  “Of course I do,” Adele said.

  “Not until later, though, Finn.” Meghan stood and started clearing the table. The others followed suit and with their troops mobilized, they’d cleaned the kitchen and the dishes before Adele had a chance to push her way into the kitchen.

  She couldn’t deny it was nice to have help on the back end.

  Once they finished, the girls returned to the table, each with her own dessert selection, all still buzzing about the opportunity in front of Adele.

  “Was it something you always wanted to do?” Lila asked.

  Adele shrugged. “I guess I never really planned for it, but I admit, it’s got me very excited.” She walked over to the bookshelf. “I was thinking about it this week and I remembered I used this little journal to keep all my recipes safe when Me-maw was teaching me how to cook.” She pulled the small journal from the shelf and brought it back to the table.

  “I’ve never seen this before,” Meghan said, taking it in her hands. The book had been rubber-banded together to hold all the stray papers and note cards inside.

  Meghan removed the band and opened the book. In her hands, it looked frail and old, and it was, she supposed, though she hadn’t thought so until that moment.

  “Mama, there are pictures in here—and handwritten notes.” Meghan turned the pages gingerly as the girls leaned in for a peek.

  “This is a scrapbook,” Jane said, pointing to a black-and-white photo of Adele and her Me-maw.

  “I suppose it is,” Adele said. “I never thought of it that way. Me-maw taught me everything I know about cooking and baking. We’d spend hours in her little kitchen coming up with all kinds of new things to try.” Adele smiled at the thought of it.

  Me-maw had been a soft-spoken woman who used food to tell her story. As a girl, Adele had loved spending time with her grandmother, right there in that same Sweethaven kitchen. “Things were different back then,” Adele said. “Sweethaven was different.”

  Her thoughts spun backward in time, landing squarely on The Commons, the original Byron Colby Barn, before the fire. The town council hosted dances there every Friday night, and Adele could still remember the first time she’d been asked to dance. It felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once.

  “Who’s this?” Lila snagged a small black-and-white photo with a scalloped white frame around it. She held it up and the memories rushed back. Henry.

  Her parents hadn’t approved. Henry was a good boy, but Adele was young—too young to be thinking about boys. At least that’s what her parents believed.

  But Adele had a hard time following the rules when it came to Henry. She might have been young, but her feelings were real, whether her father wanted to believe it or not. “Adele, you’re blushing,” Campbell said. “He’s cute. Who is he?”

  “Henry Marshall.” At the mention of his name,
Adele let the nostalgia of those days wash over her, remembering what it was like to be fifteen, feeling a flutter in her heart, as she awkwardly moved across the dance floor in Henry’s arms. “I suppose you could say he was my first love.”

  Knowing glances ping-ponged around the table, and Adele noticed. “Stop it now, girls, let’s not romanticize this. We were just kids.”

  “Sometimes love is never stronger than when it’s your first love,” Jane said. “Graham was my first love and I still feel all sappy about him.”

  Adele brushed her off.

  “Why haven’t you told me about him before, Mama?” Meghan said, taking the photo from Lila.

  “There was nothing to tell. Like I said, we were kids. We grew up.” They didn’t need to know all the reasons she and Henry didn’t work out.

  “It looks like you guys were in a band,” Campbell said, her eyes fixed on the little book. “I didn’t know you were a singer.”

  “It was a long time ago,” Adele said. “A lifetime.”

  “Mama was a brilliant singer. She only stopped because she got pregnant with me,” Meghan said.

  “That’s not true. It was an exhausting lifestyle. I still don’t know how you do it,” Adele said, her memory fluttering around. She’d loved the stage once upon a time. Loved the way the crowd responded to her. Loved singing as Henry backed her up on the piano.

  “Whatever happened to him?” Jane asked.

  Adele shrugged and took the photo. She ran a finger over Henry’s face. “I don’t know.”

  She’d wondered about Henry a lot over the years, but especially since Teddy passed away. She wouldn’t trade her years with Teddy for anything in the world, but in her lonely moments, she thought of Henry. What had become of the boy she’d loved all those years ago?

  “We could find him, I bet.” Campbell’s words jarred her back to reality.

  “We definitely could. Let’s look online.” Meghan pulled her phone from her pocket and began moving her fingers across it.

  “What? No.” Adele’s nerves kicked up like leaves on a windy autumn day.

  “Adele, you’re blushing again,” Lila said, exchanging a glance with Campbell and smiling.

 

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