Page 81 of Under the Ink

“Mrs. Jackson, could you please pass the ranch?”

“Oh, yes, of course. Sorry about that. And, please, call me Sue.”

“I guess I didn’t tell you my mom’s a modern woman,” Sage said, a grin on his face.

“What Sagemeans,” his mother said, “is I chose to keep my own last name when I married his father. But that doesn’t matter, because you and I are on a first-name basis.” With that, she gave Naomi a playful wink.

They were trying to make her feel comfortable—which was all she could have asked for. When Sue handed her the dressing, she said, “Thanks.”

His father said, “And you can call me Ray.”

Naomi smiled and nodded, not really liking the feeling of being in the spotlight.

Fortunately, his father turned his focus to Sage. “So tell me about Thanksgiving again—so I can tell your sister why you won’t be here.”

“I didn’t say Iwouldn’t. I said I didn’t know if Icould. We’ll be in Europe in October and November—and I don’t know if they have all the dates set in stone yet or if they’re still throwing some on the calendar. So I don’t know if we’ll be back in the States by the time Thanksgiving rolls around.”

“That’s a shame,” Sue said, picking up her glass of wine. “They really should make an effort for you guys to be home with your families.”

“Ideally, yeah—but Thanksgiving isn’t a holiday in Europe. And if we’re gonna tour there, we want to do it before winter really takes hold while cramming in as many dates as possible. We’ll have some time off at Christmas at least. But I’ll let you know when I know for sure.”

“What about this? What if we had our own family Thanksgiving before you leave for Europe?”

As if it were the craziest thing he’d ever heard, Ray asked, “InOctober?”

“Or we could have Thanksgiving without him. Which would you prefer?”

Ray got ready to speak but Sage hadn’t seen the man’s mouth open and instead said, “October, but only if Sasha could be there. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Oh. Adrian just gets cuter every day,” Sue gushed.

“This from the woman who said she never wanted to be a grandma.”

Sticking out her tongue at Ray, she said, “Having the perfect grandchild helps.”

Sage asked, “Is he in school yet?”

“Yes. Starting kindergarten in August.” Pausing with a spoonful of mashed potatoes, Sue said, “Tell them whatyou’vebeen up to, honey.”

Ray looked up from his plate with an expression that communicated he just wanted to take a bite of the drumstick in his hands. “What?”

It was cute how Sue’s brown eyes widened. “Your new hobby.”

“Mmm, yeah. I’ve taken up golf.” And, with that, he took a big bite out of the chicken leg. Naomi had to admit that Sue’s cooking was good, so she understood why his father was so reluctant to have to guide the conversation when it was clear he’d rather focus on his plate.

“There’s a golf course at the other end of town, just before the valley closes in—and most of our neighbors play three or four days a week. Since your dad needed something to do when I’m quilting, I suggested it—and it’s been a win-win.”

“That’s new, isn’t it?” Sage asked. “The golf course. It wasn’t here when you guys first moved here, was it?”

“Right. The town council voted on it and decided it would be a great tourist attraction.Come play golf closer to the skyor something like that. But the tourists are only here during the summer.”

“Right now,” Ray said, clearly not happy about it.

“Meaning,” Sue said, “that fall and spring are open all the time. And, honey, even with the tourists, you still have plenty of time to play, don’t you?”

Naomi wasn’t sure what his shrug meant, but he seemed happy to focus on cleaning the meat off the bone.

Sage cleared his throat, reaching for the bowl of mashed potatoes. “This is all great, mom.”

---