14

The weather turned nasty just as the last of the trees were getting cut and wrapped and picked up. Torrential rains had turned the farm into a mudfest. But the teens from the youth organization were finally done loading the last truck. Madison waved to the driver, then turned to Lily, who’d been her right-hand gal these past couple of weeks.

“Thanks for all your help today.” She patted Lily’s soggy shoulder. “You’re soaked.”

“So are you.”

“Let’s get into some dry clothes.” As Madison turned toward the house, her phone pinged. She extracted it from her pocket to see a text from Gavin. “Your dad says they’re almost here.”

“I guess I need to move my stuff back to the trailer,” Lily said glumly as they stomped their muddy feet on the back porch.

“Yeah, Lucy will need the room you’re in now. Unless you two want to bunk together.” Madison studied Lily.

“No way, José.” Lily scowled.

“Well, I’m sure your dad will appreciate your company.”

Lily brightened. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“But you can grab a hot shower and get into dry clothes first.” She led the way into the warm house where Addie and Mom were studying a cookbook and arguing about turkeys. Since Madison had been busy with the trees, her mom and sister had taken over the kitchen. And neither was a particularly gifted cook.

“You’re getting mud all over the kitchen,” Addie scolded. “Can’t you take those wet things off on the porch?”

“Sorry.” Madison backed her and Lily out the door. “Never mind if we catch pneumonia,” she muttered.

“Or hypothermia,” Lily added.

As they peeled off their soggy clothes and muddy boots, Madison wondered what her mom and sister were conjuring up for dinner tonight, or were they too distracted with preparations for tomorrow? So far their combined culinary skills had been disappointing. Not that she was complaining.

“I’m starved.” Lily draped her jacket over an old wicker chair.

“Me too.”

“I hope Addie doesn’t make vegetarian meatloaf again.”

Madison laughed. “The fact she couldn’t get anyone to eat her leftovers should’ve been a clue.”

“Maybe you should cook tonight,” Lily suggested.

“I wish I could take over, but Addie and my mom have commandeered the kitchen.”

“Looks like they’re still holding out for Thanksgiving too.”

“Unfortunately.” Madison sighed. Last night she’d tried to talk sense into Addie, but it was pointless. Addie was convinced that she could impress Gavin by putting together the perfect holiday meal.

“Tofu turkey?” Lily teased.

“Thank goodness, no. My mom already bought a fresh turkey.”

“Hopefully they won’t ruin that.”

“Let’s get inside.” Madison opened the door, trying to get Lily past the “cooks,” who were still disputing the best way to cook the turkey the next day. Mom insisted the best turkeys were cooked slowly on low heat, and Addie was certain it should be roasted hot and fast on high. Apparently they found evidence to support both theories.

“Wait a minute.” Mom grabbed Madison’s arm. “You’re a good cook. What do you think?”

“I, uh, I’ve never cooked a whole turkey before.” Madison tipped her head to Lily to keep going.

“Neither has Addie, but she has an opinion,” Mom told her.

“Mom wants to cook the turkey all night and all day on super low heat,” Addie told Madison.

“My best friend Beth Greenburg cooks her turkeys like that, and they’re juicy and tender and amazing,” Mom declared.

“Sounds like a formula for food poisoning to me,” Addie complained.

Mom still held Madison’s arm. “What do you think?”

“Well, I do remember Mongolians cooking their pork really slowly, like for hours and hours. It was always really good, and no one died.”

“Then it’s settled,” Mom said. “Low and slow.”

Addie glared at Madison as if she were personally to blame for their troubles.

Madison just shrugged. “Not to change the subject, but”—she glanced around the kitchen where various Thanksgiving ingredients were piled here and there—“do we have any plans for dinner?”

“You mean for tonight?” Mom turned to Addie. “I need to get the turkey into the oven and prepare some things for tomorrow. You want to handle dinner?”

Addie pursed her lips. “Well, I’m not really hungry. I’d be fine with some yogurt and fruit.”

“Lily and I are starving. So if you don’t mind, I’ll fix dinner tonight.”

“Suit yourself.” Addie sounded nonchalant.

“I will.” As Madison hurried to get into some dry clothes, she decided to make a big pot of spaghetti and meat sauce, as well as a smaller pot of veggie sauce in case Addie chose to join them. That would be relatively easy and provide her and Lily with a hearty meal. Plus, if Gavin and Lucy arrived hungry at dinnertime, she’d have enough to share.

By the time Madison was clean and dry, Mom was just finishing up her pre-Thanksgiving preparations, which, in Madison’s opinion, didn’t appear to be much, but she didn’t plan to mention it. Comparing Mom to her grandmother had blown up in her face enough times for her to know it was a big mistake. Still, she couldn’t help but mentally contrast the way Grandma would have been baking pies all day compared to picking up the store-bought pumpkin and apple pies that now sat on the counter. And they had Cool Whip to go on top. She saw it while grabbing French bread from the freezer. No whipping of cream tomorrow.

Madison noticed cans of green beans, soup, and French fried onions lined up for green bean casserole as she sautéed the ground beef, onions, and garlic for her meat sauce. She wondered if she should inform Mom of the mason jars of green beans in the pantry—ones Grandma had grown and put up last summer. Maybe it was best not to rock the boat. She didn’t want to douse Mom’s enthusiasm over cooking their feast.

As she removed veggies from the fridge, she grimaced at the lime gelatin salad—Mom’s “specialty” and something Madison suspected no one else would touch. Oh, well. She decided to just be grateful to have the day off tomorrow.

“Smells yummy.” Lily leaned over to see what Madison was stirring. “Need any help?”

“Want to chop some veggies?” Madison nodded to the produce by the sink.

“Sure.” Lily got busy, and the two of them worked quietly together.

“Feels good to be in a warm kitchen,” Madison said as she set a pot of water on the stove.

“Yeah. And it’s fun to fix dinner in a regular-sized kitchen. So much better than the trailer.”

“I’ll bet that’s a challenge.”

“Yeah. It was better in the summer when we could grill stuff outside. But Dad’s talking about making a covered outdoor kitchen where they’re building our house.”

“That’s a great idea.”

“Speaking of great ideas, I was thinking about wreaths at school today.”

Madison laughed. “Daydreaming about wreaths in math class?”

“Something like that.” Lily smirked at her. “I was thinking about ways we could make them different. Like maybe use action figures on some. Or like little model cars? Ya know? Like, my dad really loves Cobra cars, and I got him a little red one for his birthday last summer. Wouldn’t something like that look cool on a wreath?”

“Custom wreaths?” Madison considered this. “That’s pretty clever.”

“Yeah. I thought so.”

“Maybe we can experiment with that next week. After the U-cutters this weekend, we should be in need of more wreaths.”

“I still get to help, right?”

“Of course, I’m counting on you.” Madison patted her back. “You’re my right-hand girl.”

The pasta water was just starting to boil when Madison heard voices in the living room. “Sounds like someone’s here.” She peeked out the steamy kitchen window. “Looks like your dad’s SUV out there. Wanna go see if they’ve had dinner yet?”

Lily came back after a few minutes. “Dad says they haven’t eaten since a pretty lousy lunch on the road. Addie’s showing Lucy the room right now. She’ll probably complain that I didn’t change the sheets.”

“Can’t Lucy do that?” Madison checked the toaster oven to see that the loaf was just starting to turn golden.

“Hard to say.” Lily snickered. “She can be kinda helpless. Want me to set the table?”

“Thank you! And I’ll take over the veggies. Tell everyone we’re about twenty minutes out.”

Lily left and Madison hummed contentedly to herself as she bustled about the kitchen, chopping more veggies for a salad and draining the pasta. She was just pouring the sauce over the spaghetti when she heard a loud clunk behind her. She whipped around to see Gavin, still in his jacket, setting a large fruit basket and what looked like a pastry box on the kitchen table.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” His smile was warm. “I was just enjoying this homey scene. Most welcome after driving through that rainstorm all day long.”

“Thats okay.” She pushed a loose strand of hair from her face and returned his smile. “Dinner’s almost ready. It’s kind of just thrown together. But Lily and I were ravenous after working outside all day.”

“Looks like all the trees got picked up.” He removed his jacket, gave it a shake, then hung it on a peg by the back door. “Did that go okay?”

“Other than the rain and mud, it was fine. And all that moisture should help keep the trees fresh and green that much longer. Thank you for the lovely fruit basket.” She tapped the white box. “What’s in here?”

“Cinnamon rolls from my favorite bakery in Seattle. Thought you ladies might enjoy them tomorrow morning.” He removed a bottle of wine from the basket.

“Well, you’re very thoughtful.”

“I have some rolls in the car for Lily and me too. It’s a small token of my appreciation for your help with my girls.” With the wine bottle in one hand, he opened the utensil drawer. “Mind if I uncork this?”

“Not at all.”

Before long, he’d poured a bit of red wine into a pair of wineglasses. “Why don’t you sample it to be sure it’s compatible with whatever you’re cooking?” He handed her a glass. “What are you cooking?”

“Just spaghetti with meat sauce.”

“Smells delicious.” He held up his glass and was just clinking hers when Addie stepped into the kitchen. “Here’s to the cook,” he said.

“Excuse me.” Addie’s tone was slightly sharp. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Cheers.” Madison held up her glass toward Addie, then took a sip.

“Lucy needs you to unlock the car so she can bring in the rest of her bags,” Addie told Gavin.

“Tell her I’ll unload them for her after dinner. Maybe the deluge will calm down some by then.” He crossed to the cupboard and got down another wineglass. “Care to join us, Addie?”

“Sure.” She seemed to warm a bit as he handed her a glass.

“I was just expressing my gratitude to Madison for helping with my girls. Thank you, too, Addie. I have the best neighbors ever.”

Madison could hear Mom calling from the other room now.

“That’s my mom,” Addie told Gavin. “Have you ever met her?”

“Maybe . . . a long time ago. But I don’t really remember.”

“Well, come meet her again.” Addie tugged him by the arm. “And bring that bottle with you.” Just like that, Madison had the kitchen all to herself again. She didn’t really mind as she scurried around putting the finishing touches on dinner. Although she had no doubts about what Addie was up to. Gavin was still her territory—and she wanted Madison to know it!