Page 50 of Every Star that Shines

Opening another dusty box of her grandmother’s things to check the contents, she found several shoe boxes inside. Lifting the lid of one of them, she discovered loose photographs that must not have made the cut for Molly’s albums. On top was a black-and-white photo of Nan and Pops in their middle years, standing next to some people Delanie didn’t recognize but whom they had obviously cared enough about to record the moment with. The other woman’s closed eyelids explained why the photo languished in this box instead of being secured in one of Nan’s albums.

“Oh, Nan,” Delanie said in despair, gazing at yet more evidence of a life well lived. “I wish you were here to tell me what to do.”

But the only response was the doubt inside her own heart.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Delanie hurried to open her parents’ front door as fast as her black patent pumps permitted. Caleb stood on the covered stoop in a wool-lined denim jacket, hunched slightly against the biting wind. His amber eyes lit up when he saw her, and warmth bloomed in her chest. Thick grey clouds covered the sky from horizon to horizon, threatening snow, and the stiff breeze pushed brown leaves over the mostly green lawn, moaning through the needles of the large spruce in the centre of the yard. On the far edge of the lawn, a tall, bushy hedge obscured the view of the gravel road beyond.

Delanie smiled warmly as Caleb came in the door. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she said in a low voice, closing the door behind him. “It’ll take the heat off of me for the afternoon.”

He swept her with his gaze, taking in her Thanksgiving ensemble. She smoothed the vintage floral apron she wore over her black sheath dress—the apron, a treasure from Nan’s collection; the dress, one of the few nice outfits she had with her. A French twist contained her long blond waves.

He leaned over to kiss her. “You look nice.”

“Thank you.” Her face warmed. Maybe he hadn’t noticed that it was the same dress she had worn at Nan’s funeral. Or maybe he didn’t care. She pointed at the heavy-looking black cloth grocery bag he held. “Is that your contribution?”

Caleb passed it into her waiting hands. “As requested.”

While Caleb took off his jacket to reveal a button-down black shirt and striped pumpkin-orange tie, Delanie peeked inside the bag. Sure enough, there were the jar of dill pickles and the bag of dinner rolls her mom had assigned Caleb when he’d asked what he could bring. But underneath the rolls was a circular container covered with aluminum foil.

“What’s this?” she asked, feeling the container through the bottom of the bag.

He grinned, hanging his jacket on one of the entranceway hooks. “I’m sure Cheryl was only trying to keep expectations low for the bachelor when she gave me grocery-store items, but I thought I’d bring a little something of my own to contribute.”

Delanie raised a questioning eyebrow. “The suspense is killing me.”

He leaned close to her and whispered, “Pumpkin cheesecake. My specialty.”

His breath on her ear sent a shiver up her spine. She grinned at him and shook her head.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Caleb Toews?”

“I try. I would have made the rolls, too, but Dad needed some help on the farm yesterday, and I ran out of time.” He put his boots on the mat beneath his coat and followed her into the kitchen.

“Look who I found,” Delanie said, setting the bag on the butcher block island. “And he came bearing gifts.”

She withdrew the pickles and buns, and Caleb pulled out the cheesecake. Savannah stood at the counter on the far side of the kitchen whipping potatoes. Her cute black-and-silver knee-length dress was protected by a frilly gingham apron—another one of Nan’s—tied around her long, slender waist, and her dark brown hair spiralled down her back from a high ponytail. She turned off the mixer and glanced over her shoulder at the newcomer. “Hey, Caleb. Nice to see you.”

Cheryl came over from the stove where she had been stirring the gravy, holding out arms clad in a boldly printed chiffon bat-wing blouse. Caleb just had time to set the cheesecake tin down on the island before Cheryl encased him in a hug as though he were a long-lost son.

“Welcome, Caleb. We’re thrilled you could join us.”

He recovered quickly from his surprise, patting her on the back and darting a confused grin at Delanie.

She returned an equally uncertain smile, then exchanged glances with her sister, whose eyes bulged in a didn’t see that coming look. Since when did their mother approve of Caleb Toews?

Bill came in from the dining room, still adjusting his tie. “Is it time to carve the turkey yet? Oh, hi, Caleb.”

Caleb inclined his head. “Mr. Fletcher.”

Bill came over and shook Caleb’s hand. “Call me Bill, son.”

“Yes, sir. Bill.”

As Bill went to the turkey-cutting station Cheryl directed him to, Caleb gave Delanie an embarrassed look. She stifled a snort of laughter. Some changes were hard to get used to. Like calling your high school girlfriend’s father by his first name.

Dinner proceeded smoothly, and Caleb soon fit in like one of the family. He never tried to ingratiate himself to her parents, but he took such a genuine interest in each person at the table that they couldn’t help but open up to him. Surprisingly, Savannah seemed the most reserved, watching and listening to the conversation while she quietly ate her meal. But when he commiserated with her about the long hours she worked as a medical intern, saying it reminded him of harvest time on the farm without the relative peace of sitting in a tractor cab or getting to watch the sunset, even Savannah warmed up to him.

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