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“Yeah, yeah. Just a stroll down memory lane.” I made a mental note to send a quick thank you text to Noah.
She crossed to me, offering the thermos. “Guess you’re going to need this to go.”
I smiled at her, my demeanor soft and thoughtful. “Thanks. I’ll be back with Ms. Barrett in short order.”
“Don’t forget the Thanksgiving invite.”
“I’m on it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Good evening fellow islanders!
We’re screeching into the holidays with our now annual Thanksgiving festivities for anyone needing company, or who doesn’t want to, or can’t cook, but won’t admit it. Legend has it that some of our island matriarchs started bringing home stray humans for dinner, well, not to eat but to feed, and now that lovely practice has evolved beyond private dining rooms and into the rec hall. Just be sure to send an RSVP to Mrs. Alice Mahoney, Miss Brighty Newton, Ms. Tammy Corning, Mrs. Judith Holt, Mrs. Sunny Eubank, or Ms. Gem Plunkett, and include a $5.00 donation. Only giblets and fruit cake to those who don’t. I might be kidding, I might not, so don’t take the chance. I’ve already sent over my response and cash because we all know I’m a professional mooch. ‘Nuff said.
Additional news brings a sweet message of a recent elopement! Yep, Kip Masters and Sharlene Hayworth slipped away to Tahoe when we all blinked and made it all official. They say that Ty, their adorable three-year old blond beastie, served as ring bearer. I’m kidding about the beastie part. Mostly. Kids scare me, but you all know that, I think. Anyway, onward! Rachel Mikels, our wonderful, but no-nonsense post office manager is reminding everyone not to wait until the last minute to get those holiday gifts out. She prefers not to have to fill her own car with packages for an unwanted trip to the mainland like last year. Not cool, folks, not cool. Our last bit of news concerns our local cryptid, Klahanie Bishop. She’s been seen around enough to almost lose the cryptid moniker. Almost. The situation will stay under scrutiny.
The DJ moved onto weather, and followed with “Chasing Cars” from Cold Play.
Chapter Nineteen
I rarely cooked. Not that I hated it, exactly, it was just a time thing. Now I’d been thrown into the deep end alongside Gram, Sunny, and a handful of other Thanksgiving benefactors. Considering they now did this every year, the ladies had every knife stroke, wrist whip, spoon turn, baste squirt choregraphed, and I found myself initially struggling to keep up before landing in my own rather incongruent rhythm. From a few feet away, Aunt Sunny stared at me in puzzlement for several seconds. When I flashed her a grin, she rolled her eyes and dismissed me.
I figured they all appreciated the help, even if it didn’t quite reach their exacting standards.
Mid-morning, we hit a lull in the preparations, and I took advantage. The kitchen felt too warm and crowded, and my head had begun to swim. I pulled on a hoodie, grabbed some carrots, and slipped out through the dining room where a handful of our guests were relaxing with coffee, and a Seattle Times. Ms. Diane Barrett waved at me from the corner, and I responded in like. She was a writer and using our island for research on tiny communities. She seemed nice enough and I hoped her work would reflect us in a positive note. PT Barnum once said no publicity was bad publicity, but I wasn’t sure if I agreed with that old shyster.
I stepped out into the cool, overcast day, happy rain was holding back for a bit. The chill in the air invigorated my lungs, and my head began to clear. By the time I reached the alpaca enclosure, I’d found my equilibrium. But I knew it wouldn’t last. After the feast at the recreation center, I’d need to decompress or lose my mind, but I figured I’d worry about that later.
“Hey, ladies and gents.” I cooed to the animals, and let myself into the paddock. They trotted over and their happy little mewing sounds pushed a smile onto my face. “I bet I know what you all would like.”
I divvied up the carrots, scratching Orpheus behind one ear and patting Eurydice. Hades and Persephone pushed against me, demanding more attention and extra carrots. “You guys act like you’re starving, but you know what? I happen to know you’re not. You can’t con me.”
Hades stuck his muzzle into the pocket of my hoodie, blowing out air in disappointment. When I scratched him on the side of the neck, he seemed to forgive my now lack of carrots.
“They really are cute critters, aren’t they?”
I swiveled toward the deep voice and found Noah leaning against the fence watching me, a gentle smile pressed onto his face. My belly decided to make a quick dip before righting itself. “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”
He shrugged. “I picked up a load of drinks from the dock last week. Just thought I’d stop along the way to town and see if you all could use a hand.”
“Just in time to avoid a good chunk of the cooking?”
Noah chuckled. “I’m no fool.”
“Can’t say I blame you. I felt like a two-year-old mimicking the grown-ups. I half expected a pat on the head and a ‘Very nice, Klahanie!’”
He laughed again and I joined him. It was a nice sound.
“Hey, I meant to ask if you were able to get your tire fixed.” He reached over to pet Persephone, who nibbled on his jacket. “I went by that area and didn’t see anything. Whatever it was must have been launched into the trees when you hit it.”
“I stopped by Mike’s to see about getting it plugged, but whatever I ran over completely wrecked it.” I leaned against the fence and shoved my hands into the kangaroo pouch of my hoodie. The mechanic had seemed perplexed by the extent of the damage. I guessed I’d been lucky. “He ordered a new one for me, but it probably won’t get here until next week. At least the spare is in good shape.”
“Good deal. You had me worried.”
A little uncomfortable with the intensity in his face, I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “You said you stopped here along the way? You know, it just occurred to me that I have no idea where you live now. Your mom and stepdad sold their old place when they moved, right?”
“Yeah. They took their profit and stuck it into a big soulless house in Nevada. I wouldn’t have wanted the old place anyhow. Too close to things, and definitely too … normal.”
