A Bend in the Road

"I'm sure he'll understand."

"And didn't you say he has to leave early?"

"He has to go to work about four o'clock."

"On a holiday?"

"He works Thanksgiving Day so he can have Christmas off. He's a sheriff, you know. It's not like they can let everyone take the day off."

"So who's going to watch Jonah?"

"I will. I'll probably bring him back to Miles's house. You know Dad--he'll be sound asleep by six o'clock, and I'll probably bring him home then."

"So early?"

"Don't worry. We'll still be there all afternoon."

"You're right," Maureen said. "It's just that I'm a little frazzled from all this."

"Don't be worried, Mom. Nothing's going to go wrong."

"Will there be other kids there?" Jonah asked.

"I don't know," Miles said. "There might be."

"Boys or girls?"

"I don't know."

"Well... how old are they?"

Miles shook his head. "Like I said, I don't know. I'm not even sure there will be other kids there, to tell you the truth. I forgot to ask."

Jonah furrowed his brow. "But if I'm the only kid, what will I do?"

"Watch the football game with me?"

"That's boring."

Miles reached for his son, sliding him along the front seat until he was close.

"Well, we're not going to be there all day, anyway, since I have to work. But we do have to visit at least for a little while. I mean, they were nice enough to invite us over, and it wouldn't be polite to leave right after we eat. But maybe we can go for a walk or something."

"With Miss Andrews?"

"If you'd like her to come."

"Okay." He paused, his head turned toward the window. They were rolling past a grove of loblolly pines. "Dad...do you think we're having turkey?"

"I'm pretty sure we are. Why?"

"Will it taste funny? Like it did last year?"

"Are you saying you didn't like my cooking?"

"It tasted funny."

"It did not."

"To me it did."

"Maybe they're better cooks than I am."

"I hope so."

"Are you picking on me?"

Jonah grinned. "Kind of. But it did taste funny, you know."

Miles and Jonah pulled up in front of a two-story brick home and parked near the mailbox. The lawn had all the markings of someone who enjoyed gardening. Pansies had been planted along the walkway, pine straw had been spread around the bases of the trees, and the only leaves in evidence were those that had fallen the night before. Sarah brushed back the curtain and waved from inside the house. A moment later, she opened the front door.

"Wow, you look impressive," she said.

Miles's hand went absently to his tie. "Thanks."

"I was talking to Jonah," she said with a wink, and Jonah glanced at his father with a victorious expression. He was wearing navy slacks and a white shirt and looked clean enough to have come straight from church. He gave Sarah a quick hug.

From behind her back, Sarah brought out a set of Matchbox cars, which she handed to Jonah.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"I just wanted you to have something to play with while you're here," she said. "Do you like them?"

He stared at the box. "This is great! Dad... look." He held the box in the air.

"I see that. Did you say thanks?"

"Thank you, Miss Andrews."

"You're welcome."

As soon as Miles approached, Sarah stood again and greeted him with a kiss. "I was just kidding, you know. You look nice, too. I'm not used to seeing you wearing a jacket and tie in the middle of the afternoon." She fingered his lapel slightly. "I could get used to this."

"Thank you, Miss Andrews," he said, mimicking his son. "You look pretty nice yourself."

And she did. If anything, the longer he knew her, the prettier she seemed to get, no matter what she wore.

"You ready to come inside?" she asked.

"Whenever you are," Miles answered.

"How about you, Jonah?"

"Are there any other kids here?"

"No. I'm sorry. Just a bunch of grown-ups. But they're really nice, and they're looking forward to meeting you."

He nodded and his eyes traveled to the box again. "Can I open this now?"

"If you'd like to. It's yours, so you can open it whenever you want."

"So I can play with them outside, too?"

"Sure," Sarah said. "That's why I got them--"

"But first," Miles added, cutting into the conversation, "you've got to come inside and meet everyone. And if you do head back out to play, I don't want you getting dirty before dinner."

"Okay," Jonah agreed instantly, and from the look on his face, it seemed he believed that he'd stay clean. Miles, however, was under no illusions. A seven-year-old boy, playing on the ground outside? Not a chance, but hopefully he wouldn't get too grubby.

"All right, then," Sarah said. "Let's head on in. One word of caution, though..."

"Is it about your mother?"

Sarah smiled. "How did you know?"

"Don't worry. I'll be on my best behavior, and Jonah will, too, right?"

Jonah nodded without looking up.

Sarah took Miles's hand and leaned close to his ear. "It's not you two that I was worried about."

"So there you are!" Maureen cried as she emerged from the kitchen.

Sarah nudged Miles. Following her eyes, Miles was surprised to see that Maureen looked nothing like her daughter. Where Sarah was blond, Maureen's hair was graying in a way that looked as if it had been black at one time; where Sarah was tall and thin, her mother had a more matronly appearance. And while Sarah seemed to glide when she walked, Maureen seemed almost to bounce as she approached them. She was wearing a white apron over her blue dress and held her hands out as she approached, as if greeting long-lost friends. "I've heard so much about you both!"

Maureen enveloped Miles in a hug and did the same thing to Jonah, even before Sarah made the formal introductions. "I'm so glad you could come! We'

ve got a full house, as you can see, but you two are the guests of honor." She seemed practically giddy.

"What's that?" Jonah asked.

"It means that everyone's been waiting for you."

"It does?"

"Yessiree."

"They don't even know me," Jonah said innocently, as he glanced around the room, feeling the eyes of strangers on him. Miles put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It's nice to meet you, Maureen. And thanks for having us over."

"Oh, it was my pleasure." She giggled. "We're just glad you could come. And I know that Sarah was glad, too."

"Mom . . ."

"Well, you were. No reason to deny it." She turned her attention to Miles and Jonah, talking and giggling for the next few minutes. When she'd finally finished, she began to introduce them to the grandparents, as well as the rest of Sarah's relatives, about a dozen people in all. Miles shook hands, Jonah followed his lead, and Sarah winced at the way Maureen kept introducing Miles. "This is Sarah's friend," she'd say, but it was her tone--a mixture of pride and motherly approval--that left no doubt as to what she really meant. When they'd finished, Maureen seemed almost exhausted by the performance. She turned her attention back to Miles. "Now, what can I get you to drink?"

"How about a beer?"

"One beer coming up. And how about for you, Jonah? We've got root beer or Seven-Up."

"Root beer."

"Let me go with you, Mom," Sarah said, taking hold of her mother's arm. "I think I need a drink, too."

On their way to the kitchen, her mother was beaming. "Oh, Sarah... I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks."

"He seems wonderful. Such a nice smile. He looks like someone you can trust."

"I know."

"And that boy of his is darling."

"Yes, Mother...."

"Where's Daddy?" Sarah asked a few minutes later. Her mother had finally calmed down enough to turn her attention back to her dinner preparations.

"I sent him and Brian out to the grocery store a few minutes ago," Maureen answered. "We needed some more rolls and a bottle of wine. I wasn't sure we had enough."

Sarah opened the oven and checked the turkey; the smell wafted through the kitchen.