Page 5 of Even More Christmas Magic and Romance (Holiday Hiccups #3)

Five

FOR THE THIRD year in a row, I’m standing at a stove and stirring gravy on Thanksgiving. I’m sure it’s not what my dad expected to happen. He thought my mom was going to help him fix dinner for the family. He thought wrong.

Mom called Dad this morning and said she had a sore throat.

She thought she was coming down with a cold.

She didn’t want to give one of us what she had.

She called Stanley next. He’s a very good cook, and she asked if he could take her place and help out Dad.

Stanley said he’d be happy to do whatever was needed.

I insisted on going with him to Dad’s house.

So here I am, stirring gravy in Dad’s kitchen.

On the plus side, I’ve learned a lot since my first, chaotic Thanksgiving.

And I’m quite good when it comes to cooking.

However, both Dad and Stanley seem determined not to let me overdo with fixing a big meal.

I think that’s why they gave me this gravy stirring job.

Meanwhile, the two of them are busy with the main food preparations.

Listening to them talking about guy stuff is fun.

In between peeling potatoes, making cranberries and checking on the turkey, they’re discussing sports, what car Dad should buy to replace his current sporty model, and their work situations.

It’s so nice that they get along so well.

It would be difficult if they didn’t like each other.

In fact, I think Stanley enjoys my dad more than his own father.

Stanley’s father is very focused on what he thinks everyone around him should be doing.

As his only child, Stanley must have felt a lot of pressure growing up.

My dad is always friendly and encouraging when he and Stanley get together.

It’s strange, but I used to think of my dad as a real jerk.

After some honest conversations with each other this past year, we’ve worked out a lot of our problems. I even find myself reaching out to Dad for advice.

“How’s the gravy coming,” he asked as he joined me at the stove.

“It’s nice and smooth,” I said. “No lumps.”

Dad took a quick glance at my pregnant belly and held out his hand for the stirring spoon. “Gloria, you’ve done enough. Sit down and let me get you something to drink. Would you like me to make you a fruit smoothie?”

“I don’t want to spoil my appetite,” I said as I handed him the spoon. I hesitated. “Dad, can we talk?”

Dad glanced around at the crowded counters and pots bubbling on the stove. “Do you think it’s a good time?”

I nodded and pointed. “Stanley can watch everything, right, Stanley?”

“Sure thing,” Stanley said.

I took Dad’s arm and guided him into the dining room.

As soon as I saw the table, I knew my father was trying his best to capture the spirit of Thanksgiving.

The plaid tablecloth was festive with rich red, orange, and gold tones.

The simple centerpiece consisted of several mini pumpkins sitting on a rustic, wood round and surrounded with artificial fall leaves.

Dad saw me eyeing the table and smiled. “Your mom was at a craft fair and thought the pumpkins would look nice.”

“The table looks great,” I said, but after that I was at a loss for words. The one thought I had was simple. I needed Dad’s advice after talking to Mom. But I didn’t know how to start the conversation. Dad and I stood in front of the French doors and just stared at each other for a long moment.

Dad spoke up. “You have that look, Glory. What’s the matter?”

I felt tears welling up, and I didn’t even know I was sad. I could blame my emotional state on third trimester hormones, but I’ve been like this in the past when I wasn’t pregnant. “Dad, I don’t think it’s fair to talk to you about this but—“

Dad gave me an understanding smile. “I thought we said we could talk about anything.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Okay, so here goes. Mom is having a hard time.”

Dad looked confused. “She called and said she had a cold, but I’m sure she’ll get better.”

“No, it’s not that. She and Adam had a quarrel, and it’s really upsetting her.”

Instead of commenting, Dad turned and stared out one of the French doors. I did the same. A light snow had stopped falling during the night. When the sun came out early in the morning, all signs of the white stuff had melted.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” I said. “Mom’s problems have nothing to do with you anymore.”

Dad chuckled, but not in a funny way. “If only that were true.”

I frowned. “What do you mean? I know you care about Mom, and I think she feels the same way about you. She told me that your friendship is important to her.”

Dad gave me a sideways glance. “Glory, your mother is and has always been a wonderful person. Still, we were very different people when we were married. I was the provider, and she took care of the family and home. Once you, Lolly and Jack moved out on your own, our differences were even more pronounced. I didn’t think we could get past those differences. So we got divorced.”

I sucked in a quick breath. “Yes, go on.”

Dad let out a little groan. “But we’re not those same people anymore. We’ve both changed. Your mom has found her confidence. In my case, I think I’ve learned a lot. However, I might be the one responsible for your mom having a hard time.”

I tried to understand what he was trying to say. “Are you two more than friends?” I asked.

Dad shook his head. “No, but I’ve allowed myself to impose on your mother’s good nature, always calling about recipes and then asking for her help when I bought this house.

It wasn’t right of me. She has Adam and her own life now.

” He turned and took my hands. “Listen, I’m going to do the right thing.

I’ll stop all my calls and let your mom and Adam get on with their lives. ”

“Okay,” I mumbled out the one word because I didn’t know how else to comment. But at least I got my worry out in the open. I didn’t know if it would help or hinder, but I felt better anyway.

Dad took a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and patted down my wet cheeks. “Do you think we should get back in the kitchen? The rest of the family will be here soon.”

Ben had followed us into the dining room. He’d been sitting and watching my dad and me, but when I gave my dad a hug, Ben jumped up and pawed at my shoe. He wanted his hug too.

Dad picked up my little pup and handed him to me. “Things will work out,” he said with a smile.

Shortly after our talk, my brother, Jack, and his wife, Mitzi, arrived.

Mitzi was holding their little boy, John the third, nicknamed Jackie.

My brother was loaded down with baby gear.

Their firstborn is adorable. He takes after his mom, with dark curls framing his chubby face.

He’s over a year old now and is already walking.

Our pup, Ben, lets the baby pet him as long as there’s no fur pulling involved.

Lolly and Gerald arrived a short time later. When we were all seated at the dining room table, there were smiles all around. I wished my mom was there too. However, maybe she needed the time to rest, relax, and figure out what she wanted.

Stanley helped my dad bring in all the delicious looking dishes of food.

I was filled with excitement when I took in a deep breath of the yummy smells.

Thanksgiving dinner is a special occasion, and I was overjoyed as I looked at the abundance in front of me.

Stanley sat down next to me and took my hand.

His touch was comforting, letting me know he’s always there for me.

I mouthed back, “I love you,” hoping he knows I’m there for him, too.

All of us turned to my brother when he raised his glass in a toast. “To family and the loving bonds that can never be broken.”

I almost teared up again, but I held it together this time. I made a scene last Thanksgiving. I wasn’t going to make another one this year. Still, I knew I was very lucky to have people in my life who valued what was important, loving bonds that got us through the good times and the bad.