Chapter 9 #3
“Naturally,” Frankie said, and gave a wide smile.
Back at Pinewood, Charles was readying the ingredients for his famous Yorkshire pudding, or as Americans call them, popovers , but there is a slight difference in preparation.
The English version uses gravy drippings, while the American version uses butter.
Americans will eat them for breakfast, and the Brits have them with their roasts.
Either way, the Sisters gorge on them, so Charles always makes several batches.
He looked over at his mate and said, “Sometimes I think I should simply make several dozen of these and skip the rest of the meal.”
“And then I’d throttle you,” Fergus responded, holding up a rolling pin.
“No weaponry allowed. Need I remind you we have regulations?” Charles said, referring to the rules the Sisters agreed on many years before.
No guns or extreme implements of destruction.
They could only formulate the punishment from what was on hand, like the time they put the illegal construction materials’ company managers up to their waists in cement.
But it was the holidays, there were no missions to contend with, and all was good. At least for now.
“I hear Kathryn is going to join us today,” Fergus remarked as he snipped the ends of the green beans.
“Yes. Myra was beginning to worry about her. They had a conversation the other day where Kathryn seemed to be going through some kind of transformation.”
“A good one or bad?” Fergus asked as he adjusted his torque.
“Myra said Kathryn sounded reticent, but in a more thoughtful manner,” Charles said as he checked the roasts in the ovens.
“I can imagine it must get lonely out there.”
“I think it was something she felt she needed to do. To process everything. Plus, none of us are getting any younger,” he said as he breathed in the fine aroma of his basting.
“I prefer that we refer to it as becoming more seasoned,” Fergus added.
“Bloody good analogy, mate!” Charles said, shut the oven, and patted his friend on the back. “I could always depend on you to put a good spin on things.”
“Indeed.”
A few hours later, the guests began to arrive, with shouts, cheers, hugs, and kisses, including from all the dogs: Lady and her pups; Kathryn’s dog Murphy; and Maggie’s new mutt, Walter, whom she’d named after Walter Cronkite.
Maggie spent many days and nights on stakeouts, sitting alone in her car.
She really hated it and decided she needed some company.
She went to the local shelter and rescued a schnoodle, a cross between a poodle and a schnauzer.
He was just under a year old and was surrendered by a family that was leaving the country.
Maggie thought it might be challenging to get the dog to adapt to his new name, but he was quite the smarty-pants and responded immediately. He knew what hand was feeding him.
“Maggie and a dog, in a car, with a bag of junk food. What could possibly go wrong?” Fergus mused, as he directed his comment to the bubbly, curly, redhead as she bounced into the room.
“As long as she doesn’t feed the pooch beef jerky, the air should remain relatively pure,” Charles said, and chuckled.
“I’ve given up beef jerky,” Maggie announced, and gave the two chefs pecks on the cheek. “Smells divine in here.” She squatted down and called her new family member closer. “Walter, meet Charles and Fergus.” The dog sat and lifted one of his paws.
“Bright little fella.” Fergus wiped his hands on a towel and shook hands with the pooch. Charles was next with a welcome.
“Alright?” Charles said as he looked into the sweet dog’s face. Walter went down on all four paws and smushed his nose between them. “Bashful?”
Myra and Annie scampered into the kitchen, which was alive with noise.
“What a sweetie,” Myra said, and crouched down to greet the new family member. She patted him on the head. “He’s so cute!”
Maggie’s face was flush and freckled. “I don’t know what took me so long to figure this out.”
“You kept saying you couldn’t have a dog because of your work. I kept saying, yes you can, and here you are,” Annie said, grinning.
Walter was already fitting in with the crowd of friends and the fur family.
“Shall we let them run for a while so we’re not tripping all over them?” Charles suggested.
“I shut the gate behind me, and I think everyone is here,” Nikki said, and walked to the butler pantry where the wine refrigerator was located. “I brought some chard, Sancerre, and rosé.”
“I have two cabs, a pinot noir, and a merlot.” Kathryn held up her bag.
“More champagne, as promised,” Yoko said.
“We shall be pissed and stuffed by the end of the day,” Fergus joked.
“Now everyone, get out of the kitchen so I can finish my creations. Go. Scoot!” Charles fanned them toward the atrium. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
With the exception of Charles and Fergus, the group moved out of the way. Exclamations of delight and awe were uttered when everyone got a glimpse of the dining room table.
“Gorgeous!” Nikki whooped.
“Wowie!” Kathryn roared. “Yoko, you are brilliant, and the tableware is beautiful.”
Myra and Yoko took bows. “Let’s crack open one of those bottles of bubbly and sit in here.” Myra gestured to the long U-shaped sofa that was surrounded by luscious plants.
“Everything looks stunning,” Maggie said. “The plants have really thrived.”
“That’s because I wouldn’t let you near them,” Myra teased.
“Not everyone can have a green thumb, ya know,” Maggie said defensively.
“True. Everyone has their own talent.” Annie added.
“Speaking of talent, what does Charles have in store for us today?” Kathryn asked, “because whatever it is, smells delish.”
“Charles’s protest to the colonization was to prepare a crown roast,” Myra said.
Everyone laughed, and Maggie hooted. “That’s brilliant! But does that mean we don’t get turkey and all the fixins?”
“Don’t be silly. I would never let that happen.” Myra winked while Annie filled champagne glasses.
“I’ll bring two out to Charles and Fergus,” Maggie offered.
“You’re just going in there to swipe whatever isn’t nailed down to the counter,” Annie joked.
“Ha. So what if I am?” She took the glasses from Annie, spun on her heels, and retreated to the gastronomical headquarters led by Charles and Fergus.
Shortly thereafter, Charles appeared with a platter of carved turkey, followed by Fergus and the crown roast. Maggie was hauling a tray of side dishes. “There’s more.” She nodded toward the kitchen.
“I’ll help,” Kathryn offered.
“Please, everyone take a seat. You will find your names on the lovely cards that are wrapped with wheat, courtesy of Nikki.”
Everyone checked for their assigned places. “Cute idea.” Kathryn nodded at the place settings. “Everything is so pretty.”
“It’ll be prettier with food on it,” Maggie said, and grinned.
Once everyone was seated, they held hands and said grace, with a special nod from Myra to Kathryn. “I am so happy you decided to join us today.”
“What? And miss this feast?” Kathryn lifted her glass. “To all of you. Your support, your friendship, and your love.” She got slightly choked up and then regained her composure. “And of course to our celebrated chef and sous chef!”
A resounding “Here! Here!” filled the room as the lavish platters of food were passed around the table.
Two hundred and fifty miles away, a similar but smaller gathering was forming.
Frankie’s parents were about to return from visiting a few friends in the neighborhood; Nina was upstairs changing her clothes.
Giovanni was assigned the wine, and Rachael had been charged with dessert.
Richard and Robert were only a few minutes away, picking up cognac, Strega, and sambuca for after-dinner digestive aids.
Nina bounced down the stairs with her hair wrapped in a scarf adorned with the colors of autumn; her cashmere track suit was burgundy. She could have been in an ad for a holiday magazine.
“You look spectacular!” Frankie said as she finished drying the pots that were sitting in the rack.
“Oh, good. I haven’t seen Richard since I’ve been back, and I wanted to wow him.”
“Oh, he’ll be wowed alright,” Frankie said, and tossed the towel to Nina. “I have to do a presto-change-o. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll put the tablescape together,” Nina called out, as Frankie took the steps two at a time.
“Glassware and dishes are on the sideboard. Silverware in the chest,” Frankie shouted back.
Nina went into the laundry room, where her pieces were waiting.
First, she spread the twigs and branches from one end of the table to the other.
She interspersed the forest floor with clear bowls of water and floated red-colored peonies and burnt-orange tea roses in half of them.
Three-inch-high glass vessels had pinecones adorned with gold glitter at the bottom with gold candles floating above.
It would be dazzling when the candles were lit.
At least that was her plan. It worked at home , she thought to herself.
As she inspected her workmanship, Giovanni entered the kitchen from the back door.
“Felice Ringraziamento!” he called out. “Smells molto bene !”
“Hey, Gio!” Nina said as she returned to the cooking hub. He kissed her on both cheeks. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
“You look bellissima !” Gio exclaimed.
Nina felt the blush rush over her cheeks. “ Grazie ! You look rather handsome yourself.” Nina noted his Luca Faloni half-zip cashmere sweater. She fingered the fabric. “Very nice!” Under the sweater, a crisp white shirt collar peeked out.
He rubbed her sleeve with the back of his hand. “Anche tu!”
“Frankie should be down in a minute,” she said. “Here, let me help you with those bottles.” Nina cleared a space on the counter on the far side of the kitchen.
“I need to put the white and rosé in the refrigerator.”