Part Three, A Three Part Short Story
Wednesday
By noon, she felt ready. Almost. A few more tasks on her
list, but everything was under control. She had cleaned the bathrooms, made up the
guest beds, and swept off the porch, trimming some of the chrysanthemums that
still bloomed. The day was cold and cloudy. At least I don’t have to sweep and
wash the floors, she thought. She wiped down the front of the refrigerator and
the stove and ran a dust cloth over the glass table top next to the couch. She
looked forward to seeing the six grandkiddos all together. They hadn’t seen Greg’s twins
since June. David, Becky and their two boys lived ten minutes away and they visited often. Jack and Kendra, with their two, Jessica and Ken, lived an hour
away, not too far. Greg would be arriving tonight, the others in the morning. A
houseful of noisy fun. She liked that.
Three o’clock. One last check of the lists. All crossed off.
One trip out. She would stop at the florist to pick up the white osteospermum
spoon daisies she ordered. And run into the grocery store to pick up the large
white napkins she forgot to buy on Monday. With twine, she would tie them into a roll. Easy and simple.
Later, as she stepped in the door, out of the pouring rain, arms
full of flowers and a grocery bag, the phone rang. She set the things down on
the table. Dropped her wet coat on a chair.
“Hello?”
“Mom?”
“Hi Greg. I thought you would be on the road by now.”
“Mom. I am sorry. We are not coming.”
Silence. “You are kidding, right?”
“No, Mom, we are not coming.”
Silence. “Do I get an explanation?”
Greg answered in short, nervous, quick bursts. “Janet
decided she wanted to have her own Thanksgiving. You know, in her own home, now
that we have moved to this house, she changed her mind, said she wouldn’t come,
wanted to stay home, keep the kids here, with her, on her time off from work,
for the holiday.”
“Well, that is reasonable, except last minute. What can I say? Is this about not getting along with
Kendra?”
“No, I don’t think so. Maybe, you know how they are
together. She just said she wanted her own Thanksgiving. Mom, try to
understand. I know you will understand. Please don’t be upset at me, or her.”
“I will really miss seeing the twins. I’m sure they have
grown since we saw them last.” Sandy sighed. She tried to smile, at least with
her words, but it was hard. Seemed these conflicts, lately, made family
gatherings like walking on egg shells, afraid to offend, afraid to say the
wrong thing, afraid, just afraid. She had wanted this to be different. And she
thought it would be. Filled with laughter and fun, relaxed. Oh well, what
could she do? Holidays could be messy. “Greg,” she said, “Say hello to the
twins from me, and Janet, too, and have a wonderful holiday.” She didn’t mean
it to sound sarcastic, but it came out that way, a little bit.
“You, too, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me.”
Sandy hung up the phone. She sat in the chair at the head of
the table, looked down the length at the plates, already set, the golden gourds,
the pile of flowers she had dumped at the other end. Four empty places. Should
she rearrange? Wallow in disappointment? No, she thought, I’ll get the
flowers in vases and water. No point in letting this ruin it for her, or for anyone else.
Outside, the rain pelted the windows and the wind whipped
the tree limbs. Darkness fell early, the storm clouds wrapping a dark, thick blanket
over the sky. Again, the phone rang. Sandy looked at it, not wanting to answer.
She heard her own voice, the cheerful message on the machine. Then, Jim’s
voice.
“Sandy. Guess you are out shopping or something last minute.
Our flight has been delayed…”
She grabbed the phone, interrupting his message. “Jim, I am
here, sorry.”
“Oh, good, glad you are home. This storm is interfering with
flights. I hope Greg will be fine on the road.”
“They are not coming. I’ll tell you later. When do you think
you will get in?”
“They said about a two hour delay. I will call you when we
board.”
“Okay. I want to take you out to dinner, to the pizza
restaurant. I will meet you there, after you land.”
“Sounds good. I’ll call you, soon, I hope.”
“Be careful.”
Someone knocked on the front door. Oh, now who could that
be, thought Sandy. She opened the door and saw her neighbor, a older woman she rarely
talked to. “Evelyn, come in.” She helped her take off her wet coat.
“I am so sorry to bother you. I know you are very busy.”
Evelyn looked at the table. “That is, ah, interesting. Straw bales and
peanuts? Rustic. But the table is pretty. I am
so sorry to bother you,” she said again.
“That’s okay. My husband just called to say he would be
late. Come sit down.”
“Well, we just had a big tree branch fall on the back of our
house. Broke through the patio cover, broke two windows on the back side.”
“Oh, I am sorry. Where is Fred, is he okay?”
“Yes, we were in the living room. I wondered if you have
some tarp or something we can put up over the windows. Not too much rain is
coming in, but the wind is bad. And the cold.”
“I think so, I will go look in the garage.” She stood up.
“Evelyn. I just had a great idea. Our son and his family called to say they are
not coming. We have extra beds, all made up, and room at the table, ready. Will
you and Fred stay here tonight, and join us for Thanksgiving tomorrow?”
“We couldn’t impose on you like that, don’t be silly.”
“It is not silly at all. Like I said, I have the beds all
made, the places for you at the table. It will be much warmer here until you
can get the windows fixed. Jim can help you, but with the holiday weekend, it
may be a few days before they get fixed. Please, stay with us. That is, if you
don’t mind a casual meal. And our kids and grandchildren. I thought the straw
bales and peanuts would be fun, for a change. Comfortable.”
“I noticed. Wondered why you were doing that. Most people
get all fancy.”
“I will get the tarp, then we’ll go over and ask Fred to
come. Please, I want you to. I know Jim won’t mind. He will help you
fix the tarp when he gets home. Oh,” said Sandy.
“What is it?” asked Evelyn.
“Well, we were going to go out to dinner. I was going to
meet him after his plane landed.”
“I have a chili in the crock pot at home. Fred and I could
still eat that, and come here after you and Jim get home. We would appreciate
it, being able to stay here. It will be cold at our house with that wind and
the damp. You are very kind.”
“Actually, it helps me not feel so disappointed that our son
isn’t coming. I am glad you can stay with us. Very glad. You can see we have
plenty of room for you.” Sandy pointed at the table.
“We will be honored. I wasn’t going to fix anything this
year. Too much work for just us. Our kids are all busy, or too far away. We
will enjoy being with you, being with your family. Much better than sitting by ourselves. Thank you.”
The scattered straw and peanut shells are evidence of my messy life, but even the messes are worth celebrating, and sharing, Sandy thought. I will accept this. An opportunity to help a neighbor, maybe gain a
friend. I can enjoy what we have, use what we have, and share Thanksgiving, thankfully, with
family and friends.
