10

The doorbell startled Angie as she spread icing on the carrot cake she’d baked last night. She laid the knife on the counter and tiptoed into the living room.

The visitor knocked on the door. “Angie?”

Will. He should be in Colorado. Concern knotted her stomach.

She unlocked the deadbolt and jerked open the door. “Is everything OK?”

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Nice to see you, too.”

“It is nice to see you. What about Colorado?”

He drew her close. “I left early. I missed you and didn’t want you to spend Thanksgiving alone.” He lifted her chin and kissed her. “I made lunch reservations at a restaurant in Waco.”

“Oh, Will, I wish you’d called.” She leaned her head against his chest.

“I texted.”

That he did. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to text you back.” She grasped his hands and drew away.

He winked. “It’s OK. I wanted to surprise you, anyway.”

“Well, you did.” She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen.

He gestured toward the cake on the counter. “Carrot cake. Special occasion?”

“For lunch today. Isabel, my new boss—”

“I know who Isabel is.”

“She invited me to have Thanksgiving with her family…since you and I couldn’t be together.”

“I see.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you came with me. Megan, from work, will be there, too. I’d love for you to meet her.” She snuggled up next to him and linked her fingers with his. “Say yes, and I’ll let you lick the icing bowl.”

“Who could turn down cream cheese icing at ten in the morning?” He brushed a kiss against her forehead.

~*~

They walked past the cars lining the cul de sac and up the driveway to the front door.

Will carried the cake. “Nice house. The school must pay well.”

Angie pressed the doorbell. “It’s actually her son’s house. He’s an attorney.”

The door opened, and Megan smiled at them. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Angie hugged her and then gestured toward Will. “Megan, this is Will. Will…Megan.”

Will nodded. “I’d shake hands, but I’m on cake duty.” He grinned. “Where do you want it?”

“Follow me. Angie, coats and purses go in the front bedroom.” Megan gestured down the hall to the right.

While Megan led Will through the throng of people to the kitchen, Angie walked down the hall toward the open bedroom door. She stepped inside. This had to be Adam’s room. The warm spiciness of his cologne lingered in the air. A rosewood platform bed that held coats and purses protruded from a wall of shelving filled with books, photos, and some pottery pieces. She slipped off her coat and laid it on the end of the bed.

Across the room sat a contemporary styled dresser. She should leave, but a picture leaning against the mirror caught her attention. A man and a teenage boy. She stepped nearer. No doubt it was a much younger Adam. And the man with him had to be his father. She could see the man in the boy. Lush foliage provided a rich background.

A lump she couldn’t swallow away rose in her throat. This may have been the last picture taken of them. A greeting card leaned against the mirror next to the photo. A familiarity, some sort of passing recognition drew her closer. She picked up the card and opened it. How could this be? That he still had the card she’d sent to him half a lifetime ago. Tears blurred the Bible verse she’d written, and she took slow deep breaths as she struggled to regain control. She needed to return to the living room before someone came looking for her.

She opened her eyes wide and walked back down the hall through the mass of guests and into the kitchen.

Isabel had put Will to work stirring a pot while she chopped a salad. The two of them were discussing the challenges of keeping private school tuition low enough to attract students but high enough to be able to offer competitive salaries.

“It certainly requires a creative mindset,” Isabel offered.

“What can I do to help?” Angie walked over to Isabel and gave her a hug.

“Will’s been kind enough to agree to stir the gravy, and I think that’s about it. As soon as the brisket’s ready, we can eat.” Isabel set the salad on the island and then took the pot from Will and poured the gravy into a bowl.

As if on cue, Adam walked into the kitchen carrying a platter piled high.

“And here it is now. Next to the turkey, please.” Isabel gestured toward the kitchen island. “Adam, meet Will. Angie’s boyfriend.”

Will turned and grinned. “Sure. The contractor, right?”

Isabel shook her head. “Adam…”

Angie moved next to Will. “Adam’s Isabel’s son. He’s an attorney who likes to pretend he’s a contractor.”

“Guilty as charged.” Adam grinned and offered Will his hand. “Good to see you again.”

Isabel picked up a dinner bell and began ringing it as she walked into the living room. The conversation ceased as the group of guests stood in a circle. Isabel thanked them for coming. “Pastor Josh, would you lead us in a Thanksgiving blessing?”

A tall man with silver hair and the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen stepped forward. “My pleasure. Let us pray.”

Will sidled up to Angie and grasped her hand. “Love you,” he whispered.

She squeezed his hand but didn’t voice a reply. She loved him, but not in the way he loved her…or in the way he wanted her to love him. She loved him for the kind and supportive man he was, and there was a time when she would have married him. But she’d come to realize…that wouldn’t be fair to either one of them.

~*~

Angie sat in one of the Adirondack chairs ringing the fire pit. The flames cast heat and light in the November darkness. The dishes were cleaned and food put away. The guests had gone home…except Pastor Josh, and Will, and herself.

Isabel slipped into the chair next to Adam. “Josh, I’ve packed you up some left-overs to take home. Be sure and tell Hope we missed her.”

Josh nodded. “She hated not to come but Grandma-duty called. So she’s suffering in Maui.” He leaned forward. “Angie, Adam tells me you helped gather all those items for Clinton’s Closet.”

“I did. I think we bought every coat and sweatshirt the thrift store had.” She grinned in Adam’s direction, but he stared into the fire pit.

“The church’s senior group got everything sorted and hung on the racks. We’d love to have you drop by tomorrow or Saturday and help with the distribution. Isabel’s Sunday school class always provides soup and coffee. It’s become a big deal over the years. And Will, you’re welcome, too.”

Will angled his head toward Josh. “Wish I could. I’m headed back to Fort Worth tomorrow. Thanks, anyway.”

Josh stood. “You bet. Well, I better head home. Isabel, you outdid yourself. Adam, amazing brisket. And Angie, best carrot cake I’ve ever had.”

Adam broke out of his trance, grinned, and eased up. “Thanks for coming, Josh. Happy Thanksgiving.” They hugged.

Will stood. “We should probably be going, too. Thanks for letting me crash the party.”

Isabel smiled. “Will, we’re so glad you could join us. You’re welcome here anytime. And, let’s stay in touch to compare principal notes.”

“You bet.” Will offered his hand to Angie and helped her stand.

The group headed inside and then toward the foyer.

Adam paused. “Let me get your coats.” He walked down the hall toward the master bedroom.

Angie squeezed Will’s hand. “I’ll go get my purse.” She followed Adam down the hall and stepped into his bedroom.

He turned.

“I figured my purse would clash with your outfit, so I thought I better come get it myself.” The black crescents under his eyes were back. “Are you feeling OK?”

He nodded. “Just tired.” He held open her coat, and she slipped her arms into the sleeves. He drew the coat up and then squeezed her shoulders “Glad you could make it today.”

She turned to face him and grasped his hand. “Me, too. And I’ll look forward to seeing you at Clinton’s Closet tomorrow.” She drew him into a soft hug. “Feel better.”

“Will do.”

They headed up the hallway to the foyer.

~*~

Angie leaned her head back against the seat as Will drove the few blocks to her bungalow. “They’re such a nice group, aren’t they?”

“I can see why you like it here.” Will pulled his car into her driveway. He turned off the engine and the doors automatically unlocked. “Let me get my suitcase out of the trunk.”

She placed her hand on his arm. “Will, you can’t stay with me.”

He wrinkled his forehead. “You do have a guest room, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“It’s not like we’re going to do anything.” A stony coldness covered his face. “And it’s not as though we haven’t stayed with each other before.”

“But those times were different.”

“Really? How?”

“This is a small town. Everyone pretty much knows everyone else and their business.”

His jaw tightened, and he thrummed his fingers on the back of the seat.

“Adam’s got plenty of room. I’ll bet he wouldn’t mind if you spent the night there.” She reached for her purse to get her phone.

“I’m not staying with him.” His stony gaze locked onto her face.

“I just thought—”

“Don’t worry about it. I can be home in a couple of hours. It’ll feel good to sleep in my own bed.” He threw open his door and bolted out of the car. He walked to her side and opened the door.

She took his offered hand. “Will, please understand.”

“Angie, we’re adults. I know nothing will happen. You know nothing will happen. And God knows nothing will happen. That should be all that matters.” He walked her to the front porch.

“I’m sorry.” She leaned forward to kiss him good night.

He drew away. “Nope. Somebody might see us.”