Page 145 of Still Bruised
“Hi, Mr. Price. How’s it going?”
“Good, good, Jude. How’re you?”
“Great, sir,” Jude said, smiling. He scanned the house, what he could see of it, and sensed no one else was there. Disappointment filled him. “Is… Foster here?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Mr. Price replied.
“Oh… I saw his SUV in the drive and assumed he was.”
“The station is so close. He walks there when he has to go into the office,” Mrs. Price answered.
“Ah, right,” Jude murmured. “I forgot.”
“He sent a message this afternoon that he had to work late again. He went in around five this morning, poor thing. From what he’s said, they’re trying to get ahead of the holiday so they can relax, but he’s going to be worn out by the time it gets here.” She paused, shaking her head. “It’s just the two of us here tonight. I can tell Foster that you stopped by and said hello, if you’d like?”
“No, no… you don’t have to do that.” He held up the bird. “Show me to your basement.”
Mrs. Price led him downstairs, where he slid the turkey into the fridge while she chatted about the weather, the holiday, and how her eldest son—which Jude hadn’t known existed—and his family weren’t going to be joining them for their feast, to their disappointment. After they resurfaced on the first floor, Mr. Price smiled.
“Thank you for bringing that by. It was mighty kind of you. I know I wouldn’t have had it in me to lift it this year.”
“All a part of the service we provide. I know people can go get their meats at the grocery store, but they’re nowhere as good and they won’t deliver your Thanksgiving turkey straight to your fridge,” Jude said with a grin. “I hope you folks have a lovely holiday.”
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with something to eat? I’ve got a pot pie in the oven.”
“I’m sorely tempted, Mrs. P, especially if that’s what smells so good in here, but I really should get home.”
“Please, call me Adeline.”
Jude grinned. “Sure thing, Mrs. P.”
“If you must go, I can send you with a plate home.”
“Don’t go to all that trouble for me, please.”
“It’s no trouble, I assure you,” Mrs. Price said, walking over to the oven. She pulled out the casserole before he could refuse again.
He hung beside the back door, waiting for her to fill a plate for him. Reaching for a box of foil on the counter, she looked over at him. “Sure you don’t want to sit down and eat it here?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” He didn’t want to tell them he was wearing stinky work clothes covered in specks of blood from the cutting room. No way was he sitting down at her table like that, not without a shower and a change of clothes.
“I understand,” Mrs. Price said before covering his plate with foil and handing it over..
“Thank you,” Jude said before lifting the plate closer to his nose. “Thatiswhat I was smelling.”
Mrs. Price smiled. “You’re very welcome. I appreciate you going out of your way to help with the turkey.”
“Not out of my way, I assure you.”
Mrs. Price placed a hand on his arm as he reached for the knob. “I was wondering whatyourplans were for the holiday?”
“I’m usually pretty wiped out after the chaos at the shop. You saw those lines. They’ll be even longer tomorrow, and we stay open later, too. I’ll probably order myself some Chinese and crash.”
“Well, sleep late Thursday morning because you’re invited here in the afternoon.”
Jude eyed her. “I appreciate it, but like I said, I’ll be pretty tired. I doubt I’ll be great company.”
“I doubt you could be bad company, Jude.” She smiled up at him. “I promise, we’ll handle everything. All the cookingandthe clean-up. You just bring yourself.” She moved a bit closer. “I owe it to Gabriel and Rosalie to make sure their boy has a place at our table for Thanksgiving. I should’ve asked last year, but I…” Tears shone in her eyes. “I should’ve asked but I didn’t. I’m not going to miss another year.”
