Inevitable Sentences (32 page)

“The table looks beautiful.” Celeste sat in a chair Max pulled out from the head of the table. He pushed the chair in and then sat down to her right.

Once settled, Celeste said, “It must have taken a long time for you to set.”

“We all helped,” Adrian said.

“I put on the tablecloths and napkins,” McKenna said, after which each child told what he or she had done from carrying the plates to laying the flatware.

The women giggled. “It was quite the effort,” Tomika said. She rolled her eyes at the results.

“Well, I believe it is charming, and that even Martha Stewart would be impressed.” Celeste nodded as the children and mothers slipped into the empty chairs. The children glowed with pride.

“Who’s Martha Stewart?” McKenna asked.

The adults laughed and her mother explained. Celeste took the time to take in what she saw before her. Two white cloths and one with bright orange pumpkins covered the makeshift dining table. The dishes ranged from the special china Celeste had brought to the lighthouse to the Corelle dishes in country cottage design purchased at the local Wal-Mart. Celeste had to admit she loved the confusion of all the patterns.
A little chaos,
she thought,
might be good for the soul.

Max left the table and went to the kitchen to retrieve the turkey Adrian had already carved. Dishes of squash, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, peas and onions, and cranberries had already been placed around the table. Once Max set the platter down, he asked, “Who wants a drumstick?” And so the dinner began.

“Before we dig in, I’d like each of us to think of something for which we are thankful.” Celeste gazed at Max. “I’ll start first.” She sighed. “I have many reasons to be thankful, including for all you being here with me, for Max, and for my health.”

Max took Celeste’s hand. “I’m thankful that Celeste finally agreed to marry me this spring here at the lighthouse.”

Doug took Adrian’s hand and said, “I’m happy that Adrian has allowed me to be part of her life.” He lowered his head and blushed.

Adrian also blushed and modestly said, “Me, too.”

After that the other women and children gave thanks as well, mostly for having a safe home and food and for being with people who loved them. Everyone fell silent for a few moments as they thought over their good fortune and perhaps the absence of the terrors that had been too much a part of their past lives.

Max finally broke the silence and announced, “Let’s eat.”

Soon all that could be heard was the passing of the serving plates and the scraping of spoons as they delivered food to each plate. Everyone became quiet again as they devoured their feast. Occasionally someone could be heard saying, “Yum,” or “This is really good.”

Max raised his water glass. “I toast the cooks and all the helpers for this fine meal.” Everyone clinked their glasses and shouted, “To the cooks and helpers.”

Over and over Celeste heard the satisfying clink, clink as each child made sure their glass touched every other one. She ate unhurriedly so as not to irritate her jaw and to delight in every morsel as long as she could.

A
FTER AN HOUR AND
second helpings, the happy group finished dinner. The women and children cleared the table. “You two stay put,” Adrian ordered Celeste and Max.

“I won’t argue with that,” Max said.

“Me, either. It’s a treat,” Celeste agreed.

Once most of the dishes had been loaded into the dishwasher and were on their way to being cleaned, and the pots scrubbed or soaking, everyone had digested their food enough to eat dessert. Soon the children returned to the table with plates and forks followed by the women carrying an array of pies—apple, pumpkin, mince and lemon meringue.

“Who made all these beautiful pies?” Celeste asked. She stifled a laugh when she saw how the crusts on two were a little overdone.

“Believe it or not,” Marcy answered, “each of us chose one and prepared it.” She nodded to all the women. “But Adrian made two.” Marcy pointed to the lemon meringue and pumpkin pies. “The crusts aren’t burnt.”

“We cheated a little, though,” Tomika admitted. “We used Pillsbury’s help. None of us felt ready to tackle a crust yet.”

“You had to give our secret away,” Marcy teased. Then she chuckled. “Tomika and I also used store-bought fillings for the apple and mince.”

“Enough of this discussion.” Max’s eyes formed circles as large as the pies in anticipation of the treats. “I’d like to test a small piece of each.”

Celeste and each child echoed his choice.

F
INALLY THE GROUP PUSHED
away from the table filled with happiness and food. They decided to clean up later after they had time to rest their stomachs and gathered around the fireplace.

“This is truly what Thanksgiving is all about,” Max said and beamed at the gathering.

“Yes, and I have more things I want to share with everyone here,” Celeste announced after she had eased into the same wingback chair, looking—despite her shaved head—every bit the matriarch she had become.

Marcy and Tomika suddenly showed signs of distress as though Celeste was about to tell them something dreadful. After all, they had been through so much in their lives Celeste could hardly expect they’d react differently. Adrian, however, remained calm. She knew what Celeste had in store.

“Wipe those cheerless looks from your faces,” Celeste said as though she were their mother. “I’m not telling you anything sad.”

At that everyone shuffled into comfortable positions to listen. “What is it, then?” Tomika’s tone sounded urgent. How wonderful for her to be so talkative after that first week she’d spent in near silence.

“McKenna, bring me my purse, please,” Celeste said.

McKenna scurried to the entry table, grabbed the purse, and handed it to Celeste. The purse was more a tote, through which Celeste rummaged until she found what she wanted, and pulled out a stack of papers. She retrieved her reading glasses from their case and placed them low on her nose. The children squirmed, waiting for Celeste to begin.

“Max and I discussed several issues while we were confined to the hospital,” Celeste started.

Max laughed. “We couldn’t do much of anything else but plan our future.”

Celeste grinned at Max. “Here’s what we’ve decided.” She lifted the first of several official-looking pages stapled together and handed them to Adrian. “Adrian has agreed to stay on as my assistant. We’ll run the lighthouse as a Stage II residence.” She explained to Marcy and Tomika. “That is a transition house for women who have already been through a phase of living in a safe house.”

Tomika and Marcy sat in silence. Both their faces registered happiness, then envy, then happiness. Surely they couldn’t help feeling left out of Adrian’s good fortune.

“Now for you two.” Celeste faced them.

The two young women abruptly straightened.

“I’ve set up a college scholarship fund in Pilar’s name,” Celeste proclaimed. “You two are the first recipients. I know you both want to go to nursing school. Your full tuition will be paid by this fund.”

“Wow,” Tomika said. “Thank you, thank you.” She raced to Celeste and hugged her.

Marcy jumped up and yelled a little too loudly, “Ditto.”

Everyone laughed as Marcy’s face turned a deep shade of red. “There’s no way any of us can really thank you enough,” she said.

“Yes, there is. Be confident, be good mothers, be successful, and be happy.” Celeste took Max’s hand. “Plus, you have a wedding to plan and host this spring here at the lighthouse.”

“Does this mean we get to stay here?” Tomika asked.

“Absolutely,” Celeste said. “You’ll be our first two in the Stage II status.”

Tomika and Marcy hugged each other. Then they hugged Celeste again. “This is too, too …” Marcy stumbled.

“Awesome,” Tomika finished.

“Yeah,” Marcy agreed.

“Then what will you two do?” Tomika asked.

“We’re looking for a condo in Marquette,” Max reported. “Celeste, and probably I will be here almost every day. That is, after we take a few weeks off after Christmas to go on a cruise and loaf on a Florida beach.”

Everyone cheered. The grandfather clock struck eight times. Matthew, asleep in his mother’s arms, gave a sudden snort, which made the other children giggle.

Celeste looked at each person, every one special to her. Adrian, confirmed in courage. Marcy and Tomika, bursting to launch their new lives. Her own dearest Max. The children less haunted every passing day. All of them eager to love and support and encourage each other—and her. Truly, wasn’t this circle of friends the very essence of a sanctuary—a safe house?

Had she ever been so completely at ease before, in her entire life? She realized she was ready for what tomorrow would bring, come what may.

Celeste nestled comfortably into her favorite chair, while Max pulled a hassock over to sit beside her.

“Anyone know a good Thanksgiving story?” McKenna asked, her voice groggy with sleepiness.

Through the open drapes, Celeste could see the distant water where the lighthouse beacon lit the night for passing travelers. She smiled. “Oh,” she said. “I think we’re living one.”

LIGHTHOUSE BREAD:
Four Loaves

12 cups flour (6 cups whole wheat, 6 cups unbleached white)

1 tablespoon yeast

½ cup powdered buttermilk (eliminate some water if you use liquid buttermilk)

½ cup soy flour

1 cup wheat germ

3 teaspoons cinnamon

2 teaspoons salt

½ cup chopped nuts or more to your taste

1 cup raisins

½ teaspoon baking soda

7 cups hot water

Mix all ingredients thoroughly. Spoon mixture into oiled loaf pans sprinkled with cornmeal. Lightly sprinkle some cornmeal on top of the loaves. Cover loaves and allow them to stand in warm temperature for about 45 minutes or until loaves have doubled in size. Heat oven to 375 degrees. Once loaves have risen, bake for 30 minutes.

CELESTE’S RAISIN SCONES

2 cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon ground nutmeg

½ teaspoon salt

8 tablespoons (1 stick) cold, unsalted butter

1 cup raisins

2 tablespoons granulated sugar

Yolk of one large egg

3/4 cup buttermilk

White of 1 large egg

Additional sugar for sprinkling

Heat oven to 375 degrees. Put flour, baking soda, baking powder, nutmeg, and salt into a large bowl; mix well. Add butter and cut in with a pastry blender or rub in with your fingers, until the mixture looks like fine granules. Add raisins and sugar; toss to distribute evenly.

Add egg yolk to the buttermilk in a measuring cup and whisk to blend. Pour over flour mixture and stir in until a soft dough forms.

Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface and give 10 to 12 kneads. Cut dough in half. Knead each half briefly into a ball; turn smooth side up and pat into a 6-inch circle. Cut into 6 wedges, but do not separate wedges.

In a small bowl, whisk the egg white. Brush the top of each scone with the egg white and sprinkle lightly with sugar. With a pancake turner, carefully transfer the 2 cut circles to an ungreased cookie sheet. If necessary, reshape circles so that the 6 wedges in each are touching (this will keep the raisins from burning).

Bake 18 to 22 minutes, until medium brown. Cool on a wire rack; after 5 minutes pull the wedges apart and cover loosely with a dish towel until completely cooled.

NOTE: Egg white and sugar can be added before freezing the unbaked scones. Also, the entire mixing process can be done in a food processor.