“You sound better already. Don’t get a speeding ticket.”
As Claire sat up and turned toward her open shelf closet, she spied an orange sweater nestled among the green and red. It would sort of match the faded Halloween streaks in her hair that she hadn’t bothered to change, yet. “Ten minutes.”
SHE KNOCKED ON JO’S door, which swung open before the third rap. Two sets of arms wrapped around her.
“Eight minutes.”
“Aunt Claire, you look like a pile of leaves.”
She crouched to Kevin’s level. “That is the nicest thing anyone has said to me all day. Thank you.” She smoothed the green and brown aprons layered over a burgundy skirt.
Jo put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I think I’m better.”
“Hard to tell. The orange sweater is bad enough, but you should stay away from neon lipstick.”
“Too much?” The look of horror on Jo’s face was enough of an answer. “I’ll wipe it off in the car. I don’t want to keep you.”
“Come in and clean up in the bathroom. Kevin and I will get the pie.”
As Claire wiped off the orange goop, Jo popped in the open door. “Almost better. Use that stuff in the blue tube. It’s a better color for you. I know you have the trains tomorrow, and I hate to do this when you have so much going on, but I had a weird message from Dylan.”
“How so?”
“Kevin insisted he come up for the opening day, even though it’s not on his official schedule, which is fine, but he said he wants to talk, which is never good. What if he’s—” Jo glanced down the hall then back into the room. “Q-u-i-t-t-i-n-g?”
“Don’t worry about what he says until he says it and you can make me take a coffee break tomorrow night so we can assess what he says after he says it. No guilt, especially since I’ll probably forget to take a break anyway. Be sure to tell Kevin to look close – I put something special in for him.” And for Jo, but she’d figure that out on her own.
“Thanks. You should keep that lip gloss. It looks better on you than it does on me, but promise me you’ll throw out that gawd-awful orange.”
“Fine. Why are we still here? Don’t we both have to be somewhere?”
The three left the house together. Jo headed to her parents’ house in a different town with a car full of food. Claire took a circuitous route to Walter and Sandy’s, even though it was walking distance from Jo’s. She had one more stop to make.
At the fading placard announcing a “Century Farm,” she turned down the gravel driveway. Half a dozen cars found haphazard parking spaces in front of George and Dinah Halberstam’s house. They hosted a big shindig for their family, including a certain elderly cousin with nowhere else to go. Claire parked on the driveway, grabbed an envelope from the passenger seat, and strode to the front door.
One of the grandkids opened the door, but George’s daughter Lisa corralled the child. “Come in, Claire. It’s been so long.” The weight of her arms nearly threw Claire off balance. “I’m so glad you all are doing the display. Georgie talked of nothing else the whole drive from Atlanta.”
“George will make sure his namesake gets a special tour. Glad you could come up.”
“Are you staying? Mom! We need an extra plate.”
She flinched at the volume so close to her ear. “No, I can’t stay. I’m due at the McKennas, but can I talk to your mom a minute? I have something for her.”
“Sure, she’s back in the kitchen. You know the way. Prescott Thomas! You stop that this instant!” Lisa shook her head and dashed to a different room. Her triplets seemed to be living up to their three terrors moniker.
Dinah was in the kitchen and from the look of it was trying to keep another grandkid from eating all the marshmallows destined for the yams.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Claire. Are you joining us?”
“No. You seem to have your hands full anyway.” Every countertop surface seemed covered with food in various states of preparation. Pots simmered on the stove, giving the warm air a fragrant mix of turkey and sage and cinnamon.
“That I do. Elodie, I saw that. Give me that bag.”
“I’ll be quick. I wanted to drop these off, because it seems like you need them more than I do.” She held out the envelope.
Dinah’s brows furrowed. “What is this?”
“Take a look.”
The mayor’s wife lifted the flap and pulled out a coupon for Irish Spring, followed by one for Dove and another for Ivory. Dinah’s face and shoulders tensed as her lips drew into a flat line. The envelope fell from her hands and she stared at it laying on the relish tray where it absorbed pickle and olive juices.
“Of course with all the chaos here, you might want to take a weekend off, especially since the car won’t be here.”
“How...did.... Don’t tell George.” Her whisper trembled.
“My lips stay sealed until it happens again. Have a great dinner. It smells wonderful in here.” Claire popped a marshmallow from the bag, and winked at Elodie, whose little face was scrunched up in confusion. She passed through the other kitchen door and into the great room. She heard her name a few times.
“Hi everyone! No, I’m not staying. I just wanted to check on a few things. George, are you wearing overalls or the suit tomorrow?”
“The suit. Mayor duties and all for the opening day. You could have called.”
“Nah.” She walked across the room, “I had to drop something off, but I also
