Thankful for Love (18 page)

“They're fine with it. Happy, in fact. So, my siblings know. I'll tell the boys we're dating today. We'll invite at most maybe two or three other couples who'll find out about us when they come to watch the football game. It'll be like a toe in the water.” He grinned at her. “We get to leave the closet and have a great party celebrating our coming out.”

“Toe in the water for you. Tidal wave for me.” It took her so long to say the next sentence he was sure she was going to say no. “Okay. If that's what you want.”

“We can tell the kids tonight at dinner and then ...”

“No,
we
aren't going to tell them anything. You're going to do it alone, after I leave. If they have any problems with it, they're more likely to tell you if I'm not here. You can tell me tomorrow how it turns out.”

• • •

Quanna wasn't eager to face the boys the next morning. Telling them about her relationship with their dad was a big step, one she'd fought for months. She wasn't exactly sure what she wanted before they went public—a shooting star, an alignment of the planets, a simple “I love you.” Whatever it was, she hadn't gotten it. Instead, what she had was an impatient lover who wanted the world to know they were a couple. Now he was about to get his wish, starting with two young boys.

She was nervous about how it had been received. Suppose they'd been horrified when Jack told them? Hated the idea of their dad dating. Hated her for dating him. She'd hoped Jack would call her after he talked to the boys the night before, but he hadn't. Not that she'd been home. She'd had class, and if he'd tried to call, he wouldn't have reached her. Still, he could have left a message. But he hadn't. It made for a sleepless night.

When she let herself into the house, things seemed like the usual school day morning. The coffee was ready to turn on; there were sounds from upstairs of kids getting dressed. She busied herself getting out cereal bowls and boxes, pouring juice, and laying out silverware before packing lunches. The thumping of footsteps on the stairs told her at least one of the Richardson boys was on his way down to breakfast.

It was Lucas. “Quanna, can I have an extra cookie in my lunch? I promised to give one to my friend Mathias. He loves chocolate chip cookies.”

“Good morning to you, too, Lucas.”

He returned the greeting and repeated his question.

“What do you get in exchange?” she asked.

Guilt washed over his face. “Why do you think I'd get something for it?”

“Because you've never given a cookie away without getting something in return in the whole time I've known you. So, what're you getting for this one?”

“One of the pieces of candy his mom always packs for him.”

“Then, actually you're just asking for an extra sweet, aren't you?”

“You weren't supposed to figure it out.”

She corralled him in a hug and kissed him. “It's too easy to figure out your schemes when they involve sweets.” She tucked another cookie into his lunch sack. “Okay, you can have an extra. But none after school.”

“You're the best.” Lucas grabbed the box of his favorite cereal and poured a huge amount into his bowl. “Dad told us you're his girlfriend now.”

“Did he? What do you think about it?”

Around a mouthful of cereal and milk, he answered, “It's okay with me. Does that mean you're going to live here all the time?”

“No, why would I? I have my own home.”

“There's a kid in my class. His mom has a boyfriend who lives with them. I thought maybe you would live with us.”

“That's not the way we do things around here, buddy,” Jack said from the doorway. He smiled and said, “Good morning, Quanna.”

“Morning, Jack.” She handed him his coffee and shook her head a bit to ward off any further conversation with him. When Lucas had gobbled down the last of his cereal and finished his juice, he hopped off the stool and ran to retrieve his backpack.

“How did it go last night?” she asked as soon as the boy disappeared up the stairs. “Lucas seems okay with it. How about Daniel?”

“He said he'd been worried because I was alone. He's happy I have someone to go out with.” He brushed a wisp of hair off her forehead. “I told you. It's going to be fine.”

“I hope so, Jack.”

He topped off his coffee. “One thing I forgot about the Civil War party. While Barb and Amanda are here, we should start talking about Thanksgiving. My grandfather started the tradition of hosting a bunch of people for dinner to celebrate harvest and thank the people who made it possible. Thanksgiving's a bigger deal in my family than Christmas.”

“How many people are you talking about?”

“Oh, thirty, thirty-five. Friends, family, the work crew. We provide the turkey and a couple side dishes. The appetizers, the rest of the sides, drinks, and desserts everyone else brings.”

“
Only
turkey and side dishes? For thirty-five people? Are you kidding?”

“Makes the Civil War game party look easy, huh?”

“Crap. Crap. Crap.” Quanna pulled the pot of hard-cooked eggs off the stove, dropped it in the sink, and turned the cold water on full force. Not that all the cold water in the county would help. All the cooking water had evaporated because she hadn't been paying attention, and she was sure the eggs were ruined. It was just one more thing to go wrong this morning—the morning of the football game when she and Jack would be outed to his family and friends.

So far, she had spilled a box of cereal getting the kids fed, slopped coffee on herself, and broken a glass in the sink. Scrubbing the coffee from her jeans had diverted her attention from the eggs she was hard-boiling so she could devil them. Now the shells looked scorched, and she wasn't sure she could save more than a few. It made her want to cry.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” Jack was setting up the bar in the family room and had come into the kitchen to collect the last of the glasses he needed.

“Nothing's going right this morning. I want everything to be perfect today, and nothing's even close.” She fought tears back, not wanting to make the day even worse by having red eyes and a puffy face when their guests arrived.

“Everything is already perfect,” Jack said as he wrapped her in a hug. “It's a beautiful fall day. The Beavs are predicted to beat the Ducks for the first time in about ten years. And, most importantly, you're here with me.”

“But I was going to make deviled eggs, and I think I ruined them.” She went back to the sink where the eggs were cooling, continuing her inspection.

He gestured in the general direction of the dining room. “You've already put out salsa and chips, pretzels and nuts, a cheese plate that could feed a small country, popcorn, cookies, and brownies, and if my nose is correct, you're cooking chili. With what our guests bring, I think we're good.”

“I want it to be better than good. I want it to be ...”

“Yeah, I know ... perfect.” He tipped up her chin. “You have that covered, too. I think you're perfect.” He kissed her gently.

“I'm nervous about today.”

“No. Really? I'd never have guessed.” He snugged her hips against him where she could feel the beginning of an erection. “I might be able to come up with a way to relax you. It's been a while since we've been together so I can promise it won't take you away from your food obsession for too long.” His smile was positively wicked.

Before she could respond, Lucas ran into the kitchen. “Aunt Amanda's car is coming down the road. Sammy and Jack are here!” Without waiting for a response, he raced to the front door, threw it open, and, as his father and Quanna watched from the kitchen, waved frantically, as if the driver might miss the house without his signal.

The arrival of Sam's family was quickly followed by the third Richardson sibling and her family. Barbara and Lane Benjamin had three boys—Wills, Andy, and George—who were in the same general age range as their two sets of Richardson cousins. Within minutes, the noise level was raised significantly as the seven boys, Sam's toddler daughter Kat, and his dog Chihuly took over the house, barn, and surrounding territory.

When two more couples arrived, the indoor tailgate party was complete. The Wilsons and the Ibarras were neighbors and were obviously, from the ease with which they greeted all the Richardsons, not to mention the gentle teasing and even the use of strange nicknames, longtime family friends. Quanna couldn't remember the last time she felt so out of the loop.

Saying she needed to check on the chili and cornbread, Quanna sought refuge in the kitchen. Were she to be honest, she'd confess she would rather be outside with the kids, who, in spite of the chilly weather, were playing some sort of game involving several kinds of balls with the apparent aim of keeping the balls out of Chihuly's mouth and putting them into a soccer goal net. She watched them for a few minutes, envying them their carefree game.

She was screwing her courage up to return to the family room when Amanda St. Clair, Sam's wife, came into the kitchen with a pile of dirty plates in her hands.

“I need a break from all the talk of wheat and cattle,” she said. “Please tell me we can talk about something else out here. You'd think after being married to Sam for as long as I have, I'd have picked it up. But I haven't. Thank goodness he doesn't hold it against me.”

“I can't imagine he'd hold it against you if you hated wheat and cattle.”

Amanda laughed. “Any more than Jack would if you hated them.”

Quanna could feel herself blushing. “I don't know if that's true.”

“Oh, come on, he thinks you hung the moon. And it couldn't make us happier. He's taken care of everyone else for most of his life. It's long past time he gets to enjoy something for himself.”

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything. I can see you feel the same way about him.” She put her hand on Quanna's arm. “Actually, I came out here to see how you're doing being dumped into the middle of this crowd. It intimidated me the first couple times, being the newbie in a group of people who had known each other forever.”

“You were? I was afraid it was me.”

“Nope. It took me a while to get comfortable. The thing is, they're great people. But they've been around each other so long they forget what it's like to be new to the group. And Jack probably won't figure it out unless you say something to him. Paula knew everyone from childhood on so he never had to worry about her feeling like an outsider.”

Quanna let out a big breath. “Thank you. I wasn't sure I should mention it. I didn't want him to think I was complaining about his friends. Particularly after I told him I was worried about whether they'll think he's making a mistake because…well, you know.”

“A mistake? Because you're younger than he is? I'm younger than Sam is, and no one said anything. Or are you worried because you work for him? Unless you're doing something horribly inappropriate in front of the kids—and we'd know because Lucas would rat you out in a New York minute—no one is going to ...”

“No, neither of those reasons. Don't you think there'll be people who'll say Jack's making a big mistake being with an Indian?”

“Why would anyone think that?”

“Because there are people who don't like Indians.”

“I thought that attitude was long gone.”

“It's not as obvious in the city. But around here, it still exists. It's more subtle than it used to be, according to my mom, but it hasn't gone away. I don't want people to think less of him because of who I am. Or have the kids bullied because of me.”

“I had no idea. But I think you're safe here. I can't imagine anyone ever saying something nasty in this house.”

“I hope you're right.” Quanna didn't want to doubt Amanda, but she'd heard nasty comments in more places than she cared to count. And if Amanda didn't know there was still a problem with anti-Indian prejudice, then maybe she wouldn't know it if she did see it.

Quanna picked up a stack of clean plates. “I better get these out to the table. The game's starting soon, and I imagine there'll be a last-minute rush to stock up on food.”

• • •

Jack waited until Quanna had left the kitchen before coming in from the living room where he'd been eavesdropping.

“Thanks for reassuring Quanna, Amanda. She's been so worried someone would make some crack about her being Indian, she hasn't wanted anyone to know about us. I had to work to convince her about today. Not that it's panned out the way I thought it would. She's been hiding in the kitchen most of the time pretending she's the help, not my date.”

“She's worried about more than nasty comments. She's afraid your reputation will suffer. Or the boys will get bullied.”

“I wouldn't worry about Daniel and Lucas. They have Indian classmates and teachers. It's no big deal for them. And I'm a big boy. I can take care of my reputation myself.”

“Please, Jack, don't dismiss what she's concerned about. Take it seriously.”

“I do. Of course I do. What I hoped she'd see today is how much my family and friends like her because she's a wonderful person.”

“Not to mention she's made one of our favorite people happy.”

He grinned. “It's obvious, isn't it? I'm happier than I've been in a long time.”

Sam appeared in the doorway to the dining room. “Why are you chatting up my wife, brother, when you have a date waiting for you in the family room and the game's about to start?”

“Mostly because I knew it would annoy you,” Jack responded. “But I've made my date wait long enough, I guess. So I'll give your wife back to you.” He winked at Amanda. “No offense, sister-in-law.”