18

“Say, Boss, we gonna cook Thanksgiving dinner at the diner tomorrow? We haven’t done it since, well, you know,” Toppy said cleaning his grill.

“I know, since Mom died. She loved it, didn’t she?” People from town with nowhere to go joined us. Without Bailey, I didn’t think I could face it, but there was no reason the others had to suffer.

“Let’s do it.” Toppy smacked the grill brush down for emphasis.

“But it’s tomorrow. Can we pull it together in time?” Another thing I’d dropped the ball on.

“It’s just cooking. We’ll get started right way.”

“Didn’t we always do five turkeys? There wasn’t much left over, but certainly enough. So we won’t serve turkey-shaped tofu?” I joked, but my heart wasn’t in it. There was no point in calling off Thanksgiving on my account. I could go through the motions for their sake.

“Nope, we’ll have the traditional turkey, stuffing, and all the trimmings,” Toppy said.

I waited for the lecture. It didn’t come. Maybe they were all getting off my case. I’d been doing well with my diet. Not hard to do when I had no appetite. Every time I thought about Bailey, my stomach rose to my throat.

“I’ll get Tracy to put it up on that media page she made for your businesses. I know some of the locals we can call. Anyway, truckers drive on Thanksgiving Day, too, and they’ll stop in, I bet.” Toppy returned to his grill and whistled a tune. He talked about Thanksgiving, but I thought he had something else on his mind.

My uncle loved Bailey’s mom. I knew what that felt like. It was hard to see his glowing happiness when mine had crumpled in the dust. I’d hurt Bailey’s happiness too, but she deserved better. I couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t left the inn yet. That sense of responsibility, I guess. She’d promised to stay through the fall. But I’d never be able to forget with her just up the road.

“You OK? Holidays can be mighty hard with the breakup and all.” He stopped his work and looked at me.

“I’m fine. It’s for the best. Time will heal Bailey, and I have my work.” Lame.

“I hear you. But what I don’t hear is that you’ll depend on the Lord for help. Are you mad at God, son?” Toppy wiped his hand on a dishtowel hanging from his belt. He sat down at a small table nearby.

Nothing like butting into a man’s most intimate business. “I’m not mad, exactly. I don’t know. Maybe I am. All I know is there’s a brick wall between me and God. My prayers seem to be bouncing back from the sky.” I sat down opposite my uncle.

“I can imagine. It happens to all of us sometime.” Toppy crossed his legs.

“Really? People lose two parents in the space of a year? Inherit the work of three businesses? Have a heart attack? Lose the woman...” I stopped and tried to control the sickness rising in my chest. “Yeah, it happens all the time.” I punctuated each hard-fought sentence with my finger pounding on the table.

“No, of course not. But I mean people of faith often have dry times in their life.”

“Well, what a time for God to dry up the well. Just when I need Him the most. I know he’s there, I just don’t know why He won’t help me.”

“Think about it, Scott. It’s time to quit focusing on the negative things that have happened to you. Here, let me get you started.” Toppy leaned forward in his chair and held out his fingers. “One, your mother was a Christian. She’s with the Father in heaven. She lived a rich, full life and raised you with love. Not many can say that,” Toppy held up one finger. “Two, your father, ditto. He stayed with you another year and then you got to return the favor of his caring for you all your life by you caring for him,” he made it two fingers. ‘Three, you didn’t die. Four, you are fully recovering and have the chance to get healthy.”

“And five,” he began, but I stopped him.

“Bailey, I know. I don’t deserve her, though, Toppy, and what if I die?”

“What if you do? You think because you had a heart attack that your life is not still in His hands? That He’s not in control? If you felt God gave her to you, wanted you to marry her in the first place, well, He didn’t change his mind just because you got sick.”

I know. I should be ashamed of myself.

“Why don’t we pray now and get this bitterness purged out? I want to see you go on with your life. I know it’s been hard, but you belong to God. You’ve been raised with faith; it courses through your veins and you have to stop squelching what I know is in your heart.”

His words rang true. I’d been feeling sorry for myself. I’d experienced rage, fear, doubt, and grief. I didn’t want it anymore. “I’ve been mad at my heavenly Father. I can’t believe the pride I’ve spouted to Him in prayer that I didn’t deserve all this trouble. Where did that come from?”

“It’s just part of life. You’d been spared so much until your mother got sick, and then it all came at once. But if you’ll look, you’ll see how the Father’s hand upheld you all the way.”

“I know.” I bowed my head.

Toppy put his hand on my head and prayed aloud. “Give this man Your eyes, Lord; show him how You’ve loved him through all of this.”

My mind focused on Mom’s last words. I’d avoided thinking of this so often, but now it came as clear as day.

“Son, I’m sorry about all this. I want you to know I’m ready, that I’ll be OK. I’m looking forward to heaven. But I’m worried about your dad. He’s not taking this very well. Thanks for being so strong for both of us these days. I love you. Don’t be bitter, I beg you. Death is part of life.”

I’d laid my head on her breast and wept. “Please, Mom, I don’t think I can take it. You might still get well, yet.”

“No, it won’t happen. We’ve all prayed, and I do believe in healing. We don’t always get to understand, but we must always have faith that God knows best. It’s just my time. When we’re in heaven together for an eternity, this will all make sense. Please, take care of your dad for me. I love you both.”

Toppy continued to pray for me silently. I appreciated it. Still, I didn’t feel close to God the way I had before. How could I go on without Bailey? But if I died…I didn’t want Bailey to suffer the way my father had.

We sat in silence a few moments. I tried to focus on the blessings that Toppy had just enumerated for me. I felt bolstered by my uncle’s words, but I just wasn’t there yet. I broke the silence. “I’ll go get those turkeys.”

“Um, Scott, I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

“We all kind of figured we’d have Thanksgiving, didn’t think you’d care. I already got the fixins’. I just have to cook the turkeys and put everything together. I hope you’re not mad.”

I smirked and shook my head. Whatever. I’d be glad when they would all feel as if they could count on me again. “No, I’m not mad. Thanks, Uncle Tops.”

“I’ve got to go, now, Scott. Please pray anyway, even if it doesn’t feel like you’re getting through.” He gave me a hug and then rose.

“Where you going?”

“I’m nearly late for a very important date,” he said the color rising in his cheeks.

At least he and Gwen were happy. Fabulous, but I knew it also meant I’d never be fully free from Bailey’s presence with her mom in the picture. I sat in the diner long after everyone went home. Several hours passed as I reflected on all these things.

My parents threw their arms open wide during the holidays. They went all out for Thanksgiving inviting everyone.

Memories of the last Thanksgiving, when Mom and Dad were both still alive, rose before me. I could hear the clinking of silverware, the laughing, almost smell the food. Somehow Bailey entered the memory, although she’d never been there at Thanksgiving. I imagined her beside me holding court over the festivities the way my mother did.

It wouldn’t happen. No use spending time thinking about what would never be. The hurt overtook me. I slammed my fist down on the table.

“Scott?”

Bailey. I hadn’t heard her come in.

“What are you still doing here?” I couldn’t have her, and it made me angry. I’m sure it reflected in my tone of voice. I stood and faced her. She needed to leave Exit 477.

“I came to tell you what Mom and I decided to do about the Pinewood Manor money. I thought you’d want to know. I guess I was wrong.”

Of course I wanted to know. I’d offered to help them if they decided to build. But wasn’t all that changed now?

“You need to leave, Bailey.”

“I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it.” Bailey spoke calmly, but her voice shook. “I’ll leave after the Christmas bookings if you still want me to.”

I leaned on the table with both hands. “I do want you to leave. Don’t you understand? I can’t stand it.”

“Everything all right in here?” Toppy came in the door, Bailey’s mother behind him.

I saw them but it didn’t register. I turned back to Bailey. “Please, Bailey, there’s nothing for you here.”

Bailey stood and opened her mouth to speak. Instead she slapped me.

I reached for my face. I was shocked, but I deserved it.

She gasped, looked at her hand, and then turned to flee crying.

“Bailey, I…”

“Mom, can you stay with me tonight?” She rushed past her mother out the door.

Gwen followed Bailey out looking over her shoulder at Toppy. She mouthed, “I’m sorry.” What did that mean?

She barely slid into Bailey’s car before my beloved peeled out.

Toppy just shook his head.