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“Not bad, Mr. Green. You good?”
“Pretty excellent, hun. Pretty excellent.” He moved on down the line, replaced by Carl and his odd eyes.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Carl.” I added cranberries to his already teeming plate.
“Same to you, kid.” He moved along, but glanced back a couple of times. I wished he’d stop doing that.
Mike and Allison slid past, one opting for cranberries, the other not. “Your tire should be here on Monday, Klahanie.”
“Thanks, Mike.”
“No business talk, Michael.” Allison offered me a cool smile. “He sometimes forgets work/life balance.”
“Ah.”
Mr. Crowberry stopped in front of Noah and I with a middle-aged man who looked too much like him not to be related. He nodded to both of us “Klahanie Bishop. Noah Macleod.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, John. Kevin.” Noah grinned his nonplussed grin at both men, and Crowberry grunted before moving on down the line.
“Was that his son?” I whispered to Noah who nodded.
“Yeah, he moved back in with the old man last year. I heard he lost his wife to some kind of accident and had a breakdown.”
I grimaced.
Fred Ramirez paused his bulk directly in front of me, his smile shy and kind, despite his size. “Hello, Klahanie the Cryptid. Remember me? I’m Fred the Bovine Bench Presser.”
We both started laughing, and I kicked Noah again. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Ramirez. How are you?”
“I’m doing good. I guess you heard about my Becky from this guy?” He jerked his chin toward Noah, and hugged a small red-haired woman to his side. She smiled at me before beaming it up at the big man.
“I did. Congratulations!”
They grinned again and kept on moving, replaced by Jay and his family.
“Hey, if it’s not Klahanie the—”
“Nuh uh. Don’t even.”
He cackled at me before turning his attention to the pretty blonde next to him, and the little boy on his hip. “Don’t know if you’ve had a chance to meet my Hannah and Josh.”
“Nice to meet you, Hannah. Josh.” I smiled at the woman before catching the little boy’s eyes and making a face. He giggled and pressed into his dad. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
“Same. Hope you guys can grab some grub soon.”
“You and me both.” The little family moved on, but the line seemed to continue into infinity. A few guests from the farm paraded by, including the writer from the mainland. She smiled at me when I served her some cranberries.
“This is lovely, Miss Bishop. There’s a real sense of warmth and community.”
I returned her smile. “Thank you. I just got back to the island myself, so this is a welcome change from the outside world, that’s for sure.”
“It’s perfect.” She moved forward to chat with the folks in front of her.
Dr. Tim Heaton, and his wife, Connie, passed by. He’d been my doctor growing up, and now raised fuzzy, grey eyebrows at me. “How are you, Klahanie? Haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Doing well. Trying to stay healthy.” I grinned at him, and warmth from a lifetime of sincere caring shone right back at me. I’d always liked him.
“Good to hear. Keep it up.” They moved along after he requested a few extra cranberries.
