Sweetheart Cottage (Cranberry Bay #1) (13 page)

“So.” Dad said. “What are the Thanksgiving plans?”

“The Shuster family has invited me for dinner.” Rylee straightened and smiled into Dad’s eyes. “Why don’t I call and ask if there is room for you?”

“I would love that,” Dad said. “Rebecca Shuster was in school about the same time as me. She raised quite a family, I hear.” He winked at her. “Including Bryan Shuster.”

“Yes,” Rylee said, as the heat moved through her again.

“Why don’t you let me make that call in the morning?” He nodded toward the old rotary phone on the wall. “Does that thing work?”

“Yes. The old phone still works.” Rylee said, a sudden giddiness filling her. Everything was going to work out. Dad had stopped gambling. He could return to the town again. And she and Bryan could finally be together again.

On Thanksgiving, Bryan woke to the smells of apple pie and cinnamon. The phone rang in the kitchen below his bedroom. His Mom’s footsteps strode across the hardwood kitchen floor. Her cheery voice traveled through the air ducts into his room. Bryan stretched and smiled. Was it Sawyer calling to ask about the green-bean casserole he and Lauren always made together? Or maybe Adam calling to tell Mom he’d be late because he forgot to pick up the cranberries for his salad. Holidays at the Shuster house were always filled with laughter and good cheer. Bryan pushed back the covers and headed toward the bathroom. In a few hours, Rylee would join with them in their family celebration, and he couldn’t wait to see her.

In the bathroom, Bryan flicked on the light. He had shared this bathroom with Sawyer and Adam. They had many fights for mirror-time during high school. But they never complained to Lisa, who had her own bathroom. As the only girl in the family, it seemed only right that Lisa had her privacy as a teen. The only sister of three brothers, she survived football games in the backyard, toy trucks scattered all over the living room, and dinner table talk that could easily break into burps and belches before Mom silenced everyone with one of her looks.

Bryan turned on the shower and stepped into the bathtub. He pulled the shower curtain closed. The hot water rained down on his face. It was useless to deny how he felt about Rylee. His attempt at not falling in love had failed miserably. She’d always been the only girl who could turn his heart to jelly and make him want to go to the ends of the Earth to protect her. As a woman, she had become even more attractive. There was a depth to her eyes that could only have been created by life experience and made him love her more as a woman than he had a girl.

She had captured his heart again. But his conscience nagged at him. What if it got out that he’d been involved in a bet to convince her to stay? How would Rylee feel knowing she was the object of that bet? At the time, it’d seemed like the best way to obtain the money he needed for the riverboat casinos. But now he doubted his decision. He didn’t want to hurt Rylee, and if she found out she’d been used as a pawn, she’d be devastated.

Bryan turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a thick towel and wiped himself dry. If the cottages sold for a good price, he wouldn’t need the bet. He could ask for corporate sponsors for the remaining monies for the riverboats. But would the cottages sell for a strong asking price? And was there enough time to sell them? Plus, the City Council still had to approve the riverboats, and without Sawyer’s backing, how likely were the council members to approve something like the riverboat casinos? Everyone knew Sawyer was good for his word. He’d shown the town over and over that when he said he’d do something, he would do it. With Sawyer funding the riverboats, the community would know there was a good, strong intent behind the plan. But without that funding and Sawyer’s seal of approval, Bryan doubted the City Council would approve his vision.

Bryan wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the mirror cabinet above the sink. The shelves looked as if none of the Shuster boys had ever left. Shaving creams, lotions, and razors, along with the yearly toothbrushes they always received from their annual dentist check-ups, filled the glass shelves his father had installed years ago. Bryan pulled out a can of shaving cream and sprayed a clump onto his palm. He lathered his face and stared at himself in the mirror.

He didn’t have the same track record as Sawyer with the townspeople. They’d watched him take far too many risks and not come out the other side. He frowned as he remembered the time he wanted a skate park and tried to work with the parks department. The night the project was to be presented to City Council, he’d been caught in Portland with a friend who needed to move out of his house as soon as possible due to some late rental payments. Bryan missed the City Council meeting. Without his presentation, the City Council defeated the park. To the town, he was still a non-committed twenty-something aimlessly playing guitar in the beach pubs.

Bryan finished getting ready in the bathroom and padded into the bedroom. He pulled on a pair of dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and a green sweater and headed downstairs to the kitchen. His stomach growled at the sight of three apple and pumpkin pies sitting on the counter. A turkey roasted in the oven and filled the kitchen with the rich deep aroma he remembered so well from previous holidays. Rebecca took another sip of her coffee. She sat at the round kitchen table. A stack of cloth napkins, unfolded, lay beside her, along with napkin rings and small paper turkeys Lauren had made in school. Across the middle of each paper turkey, the names of family members were written in Lauren’s newly learned cursive handwriting.

“Happy Thanksgiving.” Bryan stepped over to the table. He gave his Mom a light kiss on the cheek.

She smiled at him. “Good morning. Did the phone wake you?”

Bryan shook his head, turned, and opened the refrigerator. He pulled out a carton of orange juice and reached for a glass in the upper kitchen cabinet. “I should have been up about an hour ago to help you. I’m sorry.” The juice splashed onto the counter as he poured. He grabbed a towel and wiped the spot clean.

“No.” Rebecca waved her hand toward Bryan. Her pink polished nails shone in the kitchen light. “It’s good to see you resting. I know you’ve been working very hard on those cottages as well as trying to get your business up and running. An extra hour of sleep is good for you.”

“What time is everyone coming?” Bryan took a big swig of his juice and swallowed. “Do you want me to set the table?” He pointed to the napkins, rings, and paper turkeys. “Lauren has created a masterpiece again.” He smiled.

Every year, Lauren created something for them to set on the table. At least this year, he recognized the paper items as turkeys, which hadn’t always been the case. But they all pretended to know exactly what Lauren had created.

“Sawyer, Lauren, Lisa, and Maddie will be over about one o’clock. Adam should be right behind them. He said the trails are a mess with the rain, but the roads down the mountain are fine,” Rebecca said.

Bryan could see the mental checklist in his mother’s mind and smiled. She had always juggled everything beautifully. She had raised four kids, served on multiple town committees, and managed the library for years. Bryan had never seen her forget anything or anyone.

“Rylee is coming with her Dad at one-thirty. She said her Dad needed to run to the store and pick up a few ingredients for the yams.”

“Her Dad is coming?” Bryan stopped with his juice glass halfway to his mouth.

Rebecca tucked a spare wisp of hair behind her ears. Her cheeks flushed pink. “He arrived late last night. I guess it was a surprise, but he wants to spend Thanksgiving with her. She asked if it would be all right to bring him. Of course, I couldn’t say no.” Rebecca said and smiled. “Hosting Jeff Harper will be the talk of Cranberry Bay.”

Bryan’s heart lifted with a hope bigger than he had ever dared think possible. Something must have changed with her father. He was here, in Cranberry Bay, and coming to dinner at his family’s Thanksgiving. Rylee told him her father was the reason she couldn’t stay in Cranberry Bay. Surely, this must mean something had changed. Something for the better.

“What can I do to help get things ready?”

Rebecca broke from her dreamy stare at some distant place on the kitchen wall. “If you’d keep any eye on the turkey and baste it I’d really appreciate it.” She lowered her eyes and drew circles with her finger on the tablecloth. “Your Dad always did the turkey. He’s been gone so long now, but I still miss him, especially at the holidays.” Her voice took on a sad and wistful note.

Bryan reached over and touched his Mom’s shoulder. “You’ve done a great job on your own, Mom.”

Rebecca spoke, her voice soft. “I always tried hard to give your Dad a good holiday season. His childhood holidays were never happy. They were filled with his Dad’s drinking.”

A dark feeling jumped into Bryan’s chest. He knew about his Dad’s childhood. Bryan’s grandfather died in a car accident on his way home from a bar when Bryan was just a baby. Dad said it was the final result of a long drinking career. But knowing what had happened didn’t make his own memories of Thanksgiving with his Dad any better.

Dad had been in charge of the turkey while Mom worked on the side items. She had taught each child how to prepare the cranberry salad, peel the potatoes, and roll out the piecrust. When Sawyer turned ten, Dad said he was old enough to help with the turkey preparations. He had given Sawyer the job of basting the turkey. That year, Bryan stood at his position at the counter and rolled out a piecrust. He wanted Sawyer’s very important job of filling the baster with the thick, buttery juices from the turkey pan and dribbling them over the white handkerchief placed on top of the bird. Bryan couldn’t wait for the following Thanksgiving when he turned ten. He assumed it would be his turn to baste the turkey.

But the next year, Bryan had been outside, putting away his skateboard when Dad asked Adam to baste the turkey. When he protested, Dad gave him one of his hard stares and told him that if he had been in the kitchen, he would have been asked. Bryan clenched his teeth and his new braces bit into the sides of his cheeks. He vowed next year would be his turn. But by the following year, Dad had died, leaving the whole experience to be etched in Bryan’s mind as a place where he just didn’t measure up to his father’s expectations.

Now Bryan opened the oven door and a whiff of turkey hit him. He grabbed a hot pad and pulled out the oven rack. Bryan carefully dripped the juices on top of the handkerchief. By now, he had basted the turkey more times than he could count, but he still harbored the small, unsettled feeling of not measuring up. Sometimes he expected Dad to appear into the kitchen, yank the baster from his hands, and give it to one of his brothers.

For the next couple of hours, Bryan busied himself taking care of small tasks around the home. He changed a couple of hard-to-reach lightbulbs in the ceiling, replaced the battery on the smoke alarm, and fixed a bathroom towel hook that had come loose. All the while, he was trying not to allow himself to get too carried away about Thanksgiving dinner, Rylee, and her father.

At one o’clock, Sawyer, Lauren, Lisa, and Maddie arrived in a sweep of energy and noise. Lauren danced into the kitchen and demanded she be the one to help set the table and place the turkey place cards. She wanted to seat everyone where she wanted to seat them. Rebecca mentioned there would be an extra guest, Rylee’s father. Immediately, Lauren pulled out her tin of colored pencils and construction paper and began making a turkey for his place setting.

Lisa stepped into the kitchen. She carried a handful of orange-and-brown aprons. Lisa handed an apron to her mother. She helped tie the long ties across Mom’s back in a neat bow. Lisa slipped on a matching full-length apron with a ruffled middle pocket. She covered up black dress slacks, a black turtleneck sweater, and a colorful red scarf with an orange fringe. Lisa’s gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears and caught the light as she turned and fitted Lauren with a child-size apron made from the same fabric as Rebecca’s. Lauren twirled around the room as tears gathered in the corners of Rebecca’s eyes, and she quickly turned to wipe them away.

“Nice aprons, Mom.” Maddie stood in the doorway. She crossed her arms.

“I have one for you too,” Lisa said to her daughter. She handed her a beautiful blue-and-yellow apron, which matched another one in her hand. “Your apron matches with Rylee’s. I made them from the same vintage pattern.”

“Will you tie it for me?” Maddie’s eyes sparkled. A small smile crossed her lips as she turned to Lisa. For a minute, no one moved as mother and daughter shared the moment. Lisa stepped forward and embraced Maddie in a large hug.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Adam’s deep voice called out as strode into the kitchen. His arms were filled with bags of cherries, cranberries, oranges, and apples. Adam placed everything on the kitchen table and walked over to give Rebecca a big bear hug. Though the youngest of the Shuster siblings, he towered over all of them. His body was strong and lean from his days working on the mountain trails and campgrounds.

By one-thirty, the house oozed with the holiday cheer. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and Lauren and Maddie played a board game. They sat on the couch with the game between them and laughed as the pieces kept falling off the board. Lisa curled in the plush oversized chair. She tucked her legs beneath her and talked to Adam, who rocked back and forth in the old rocking chair.

In the adjoining dining room, Sawyer placed glasses and silverware around the long oak table. Occasionally, he stopped to reprimand Lauren for her over-enthusiasm with the board game, as she shouted through the small, cozy rooms.

Bryan opened the oak china cabinet. Carefully, he pulled out a stack of plates.

Sawyer took the plates and said, “I saw your riverboat agenda on the City Council staff report that went out this week. I’ll work on getting supporters to back the project. How is your part of the bet coming?”

Bryan opened his mouth to respond as the doorbell rang.

“I’ve got it!” Lauren hopped up from the couch. She spilled game pieces everywhere and danced to the door.

“Raisin!” Lauren knelt down to embrace the dog. Around his collar, he wore a festive handkerchief with turkeys printed on it.

Rylee stood in the doorway. Her long black raincoat was open over a brown knit dress with a cowl neckline. She had pulled her hair up into a knot at the back of her neck. Strands of her long hair draped down and showed off a small set of pearl earrings and a gold necklace with a seashell, both which Bryan knew she’d found at Ivy’s antique shop. Her cheeks glowed pink, and her eyes sparkled. She held a loaf of bread in her hands that was covered with a red-and-white checked dishcloth. Beside her stood a tall man who wore dark jeans and a light tan sweater.