She’d watched her younger boys make change at their tepid chocolate stand, all by themselves, while her older sons patiently helped little kids at the bouncy house.
She’d seen Garrett laughing at something Piper’s husband said as they worked together to manage the hayrides. She’d watched Guinevere and Caitlin giggle together as they painted faces under the tutelage of Valentina’s artistic sister, Alessandra.
She’d watched Reggie and Valentina line dance in front of the stage, encouraging others to do the same, looking like Fred and Ginger in fleece zip ups.
And she’d witness Rosamund’s smiles and flushed cheeks as she and Miles worked together in piñata management beneath the giant sweet gum tree in her front yard.
Now they all gathered together at a long table running down the center of Beaverbrook Lane, draped in burlap and decorated with pumpkins and mums.
The camera man walked the length of the street, shooting video of the spread while Aspen placed a pumpkin pie on the table.
“Time to eat, everyone,” she called. She’d changed outfits again and now wore cowboy boots and a knee-length ivory dress trimmed with lace. If Kiersten had worn this, she knew she would have looked like an extra fromLittle House on the Prairie. But Aspen somehow managed to look both hip and vintage at the same time.
Aspen looked into the camera and began to speak.
“Family. Community. Abundance. We have it all, right here in our beautiful neighborhood on the shores of the Potomac River.” She spread her arms, and the camera panned the street around her, taking in the tastefully decorated porches, the straw bales, and finally, the river sparkling in the distance.
Then she rang a cowbell, summoning her neighbors to the table filled with food.
“Can we eat now?” Johnny asked impatiently.
Kiersten planted a kiss on top of his head. “Yes, honey, we can eat.”
“Can I interest anyone in some spotted dick?” Miles asked with a jovial grin, raising his dessert in the air and making everyone smile.
When the kids were settled, Kiersten sat down between Chip and Trey Davis and across from Rosamund in the only empty chair left at the table.
Trey’s little girls sat beside him in matching pinafores as their mother directed them to smile into the video camera.
“Would either of you like some macaroni hotdish?” Kiersten asked, raising her contribution to the Harvest Festival potluck into the air.
“Hotdish?” Chip raised his eyebrows, like she was offering a Pyrex baking dish filled with anthrax. “No thanks.”
“Your loss,” she said cheerfully, trying not to take this rejection of food from her native land personally.
“Trey? How about you?” she asked, turning to his son. “Tomato soup. Macaroni. Ground beef. Corn. All mixed together. Nectar of the gods.”
“No thanks.” He held up his hands, as though defending his pristine body from the frightening ingredients in her casserole. “I’m on a keto diet right now. But I’ll have one of those celery sticks.”
She manufactured a bright smile to show there were no hard feelings, even though, deep down,there were, and passed him the veggie tray. Then she piled a generous helping of hotdish onto her own plate.
“Aspen did a wonderful thing for our neighborhood today,” she said after swallowing a bite.
Delicious.She resisted the urge to moan with pleasure, just to give them an idea of what they were missing.
Chip swallowed a gulp of lemonade and gave her a bemused smile. “My daughter-in-law excels at making things look pretty on camera. My wife had a knack for this kind of thing too.”
“I don’t think I’ve met her,” Kiersten said.
Chip lowered his eyes. “She passed away a few years ago, unfortunately. Right before Trey and Aspen got married.”
“Heart attack,” Trey said. “Everyone thinks heart disease only impacts men, but it actually claims thousands of women each year.”
He rattled off some statistics, sounding a little bit like an infomercial for the American Heart Association. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” she murmured.
Chip shrugged. “We’re adapting. My mother has sort of stepped in and become a grandmother to these little girls. They call her Great-Grammy.”
“We miss having grandparents next door,” Kiersten said.
