Page 44 of Thick and Thin

Both Sinclair and I knew it.

And yet I hadn’t withdrawn my application from the University of Denver…and I had yet to make plans for my return. Instead, I was focused on the here and now.

With Sinclair’s blessing, I spent the entire week, from Monday to Wednesday, preparing for Thursday’s meal with Edna’s help. Because he had decided to hold the Whittier Thanksgiving at their old traditional home for the first time since inheriting it, I offered to help. Fortunately, Edna was an expert at a meal of that sort, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without her. On Monday, we went shopping and then, on Tuesday, we baked a variety of pies and one cognac cheesecake that Edna said was liked by Augustus. On Wednesday, we prepared the entire meal, and Edna wrote detailed instructions for reheating it all. Different times and temperatures were listed, and Edna also helped me determine which platters, serving dishes, and utensils to use. The only thing I’d be making from scratch on Thursday was the gravy—and even that Edna helped me with. We made a practice batch together and saved it in the refrigerator in the event that I messed up the fresh batch the next day.

Then we discussed logistics. Edna said, “This might be a sticking point, but I think you should spread out the main meal here on the kitchen table. Everybody can bring their plates in and fill them up here and take them back.”

I thought it was a brilliant idea, because the beautiful sideboard in the dining room wouldn’t hold all the food we’d prepared. “Why is that a sticking point?”

“Sinclair’s father is used to being served. He might not like having to get up and do it himself.”

Without thinking much about it, I said, “Then I’ll do it for him if it comes to that.”

Edna raised an eyebrow but nodded. “I hope it doesn’t. But you already know how I feel about all this.”

Boy, did I. More than once, Edna cautioned me about several things that would likely go wrong with the plan. The first had been that Sinclair’s family might say no to coming to the mansion.

They hadn’t.

The second was that, even though they often had turkey or other traditional items on their Thanksgiving menu, more often than not there were other foods they incorporated, like lobster or deviled eggs with caviar. Edna and I had discussed that as well, but I decided not to worry about that because they’d said yes, knowing this would be a traditional meal.

She also warned me that, as the day progressed and plenty of wine had been consumed, the arguing would start. And I couldn’t stop them from drinking

I just kept telling myself that it would be good for me to be around, because it would remind me that my father and I had a wonderful relationship—and I’d be seeing him the very next day.

So on Thursday morning, I got up at six o’clock to get started. I would begin heating the various dishes for a while, but I wanted to get the table set along with the sideboard, where I planned to have all the drinks and desserts.

The room was absolutely lovely by the time I was done.

When I returned to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee and consult my list, Sinclair was there, freshly showered after his morning workout. I had my hair piled on top of my head and I wore a t-shirt and jeans. I would be donning an apron shortly, but I’d have to make myself look presentable before everyone arrived.

But Sinclair looked so yummy and he apparently thought the same thing about me. As he began peeling off my t-shirt in the middle of the kitchen, I said, “Let’s go upstairs.”

“We have this whole place to ourselves until my family arrives.”

“No, we don’t,” I protested. Although I rarely saw Greg and his wife, there was always a chance they could show up down here.

“Yes, we do—and I want to take you here.”

“What about Greg?”

“They left last night to fly to Santa Fe. His wife has family there.”

“Oh.” So I let him have his way with me on the kitchen table…and, later, as I cleaned it and began decorating it before setting it with food, I blushed, hoping I could put it out of my mind once his family arrived.

Fortunately, Edna’s list saved me. I was able to get everything done, save the gravy and setting out the food, by the time I headed upstairs to get ready. I didn’t have any super fancy clothes, but I’d brought a few sweaters with me the last time I’d visited home, and I wore a cream-colored pullover with black slacks and the black heels I hadn’t worn since serving at Sinclair’s dinner party.

As I was making the gravy at the stove, Sinclair entered the kitchen. “And you still look good enough to eat.”

Grinning, I stirred the wooden spoon through the liquid in the pot as it slowly heated up. “We don’t have time for an encore.”

He joined me over at the stove. “It smells good in here. Not to put on any pressure, but my family has never been here for Thanksgiving…at least, not since I inherited the mansion.”

“That’s what you said.”

“My dad and Madeline have hosted it a couple of times at their place in Vail, but they sometimes travel this time of year. I think they get tired of the snow. Augie and Vivian have hosted it multiple times as well. But this is a first for me.”

“Should I be worried?”

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