33. Dante
CHAPTER 33
Dante
“Not like that or you’re going to get lumps.” Meemaw sat on the edge of her kitchen chair, doing her best to direct me in the fine art of gravy making.
“Settle down. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” I lifted the spoon out of the heavy pan and licked it with my tongue.
Meemaw raised a fist and shook it at me. “Why, I’ll knock you into next week?—”
“How does the turkey look?” Cheryl opened the oven door and lifted the roasting pan out onto the counter.
Her attention temporarily redirected, Meemaw focused on the turkey. “That looks good, I suppose. Now just let it rest for a few minutes.”
I mouthed a silent “thanks” to Cheryl. I hadn’t been too excited about her joining us for Christmas, but after spending the entire day before trying to curtail Meemaw’s activity, even I was glad for the distraction.
“I think we’re almost ready.” I poured the slightly lumpy gravy into the thermal gravy boat and set it down on the kitchen table.
“I do wish we were at the center right now,” Meemaw said. “It’s so lonely with just the three of us here.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “There’s more energy between the three of us than in the whole room of folks at the center. Besides, Cheryl brought a homemade pumpkin pie. You wouldn’t want to have to share that, would you?”
“Hmpf.” Meemaw always made homemade pecan pie for Christmas. Her nose had been knocked slightly out of joint, but that was probably good for her.
I plugged in the electric carving knife and proceeded to carve up the bird. “Smells good.” When I was done, Cheryl and I sat down next to Meemaw at the small table.
Meemaw waggled a bent finger at us. “Join hands. Let’s say our prayers.”
I stuck my hand out for Cheryl to take. As our skin touched, I waited for that old familiar spark. Nothing. She had no hold on me anymore.
Our hands joining us in a circle, we listened to Meemaw say grace.
“Okay, let’s eat.” I couldn’t drop Cheryl’s hand fast enough before I reached for the platter of turkey.
“This looks delicious, Mrs. Bishop.” Cheryl took the serving fork I offered and pierced a few pieces of meat.
“Well, I sure hope it’s edible. It’s nowhere near what I would have made if you two would’ve let me help.” Meemaw stuck out her lower lip in her trademark pout.
“Looks good, smells good.” I popped a bite of turkey in my mouth. “Tastes great.”
Meemaw poked me in the arm. “Mind your manners, now.”
I gave her a giant grin. “So, Cheryl, how late do you have to work tonight?”
“I go on at four and off at midnight.”
“That stinks,” I said. “Do you think it will be busy?”
“Depends on the weather. If the snow keeps falling like it has been, we’ll probably have a few car accidents to deal with. We also usually get some folks who don’t have anyone to spend Christmas with who stop by.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“They just get lonely and come in. The cafeteria gives away a free meal on Christmas, so a lot of them just drop in for some food and conversation.”
“They need to come to the senior center,” Meemaw said.
“Oh, we send them your way.” Cheryl took a sip of water. “Sometimes it’s whole families though. It’s sad to see the little kids who don’t get anything for Christmas. We usually keep a stash of gifts at the nurses’ station just in case.”
“Isn’t that sweet? Why, I’ve got some things I can send with you tonight,” Meemaw said. “I bought some stuff to donate to that toy drive the police put on, but didn’t get a chance to drop them off.”
“That would be great, Mrs. Bishop.”
I looked from Meemaw to Cheryl and back. When did she have time to go toy shopping? The capacity of my grandmother’s giant heart never failed to surprise me. The fact she let Cheryl into her home, especially her kitchen, proved she had a heart of gold.
We worked our way through a third of the small turkey and half of the trimmings before I pushed back from the table. “I can’t eat another bite.”
“Me neither,” Cheryl said. “It was delicious.”
“It was fine,” Meemaw said.
I gestured toward Meemaw. “She won’t admit it, but she thinks it was the best Christmas dinner she’s ever had.”
Meemaw crumpled up her napkin and tossed it at me. “Oh pshaw. Your gravy was lumpy, and your stuffing didn’t have near enough craisins in it.”
I laughed out loud then stood up and began to clear the table. “Cheryl, can you help her into her recliner? I’ll get started on the dishes.”
“Sure.” Cheryl stood up and offered her arm to Meemaw. “Let’s get you settled and then I’ll come back in to help.”
My arms were elbow-deep in soapy water when Cheryl re-entered the kitchen. I hummed “Jingle Bells” under my breath while I scoured the remains of dinner from the plates and serving dishes. Cheryl began to rinse the soapy dishes stacked up in the sink.
“Thanks again for inviting me for dinner,” she said.
“My pleasure. I think it was good for her to have some company. She really enjoyed it.”
“And you?” She looked over at me, a crease furrowing the small space between her brows.
I lifted a soapy hand out of the dishwater and pushed my glasses back up on my nose. “Um, yeah, I suppose. Me too.”
“Good.” Cheryl bumped me with her hip.
I studied her face. She couldn’t be hoping for another shot at things. “Look, I don’t want you to get the wrong?—”
“How’s it going in there?” Meemaw’s voice traveled from the front room. “Be careful with that turkey platter. Am I ever going to get to try that pumpkin pie?”
Rolling my eyes, I shouted back, “Hold your horses. We’ll be done in a few minutes.”
“You’re lucky. She really loves you,” Cheryl said.
“Yeah, I love her too. She’s never let me down.” I wiped my hands on a towel and reached for the pie on the counter.
“Dante, I?—”
“You want to dish this up?”
Cheryl grabbed a knife and cut three slices of pie, then topped each one with a squirt of canned whipped cream. She set a fork on each plate and handed me one. We made our way out to the living room, where Meemaw watched an old Bing Crosby movie in black and white.
“Here you go, Mrs. Bishop.” Cheryl set a plate down on the TV tray in front of her. “I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure it will be fine.” Meemaw let out a long forlorn sigh.
I took a bite and forced myself to chew and swallow. Did she say this was pumpkin pie? Didn’t have much flavor to it.
Fork poised over her plate, Meemaw finished swallowing and opened her mouth to speak.
I cleared my throat and caught her attention. I shook my head, and she closed her mouth.
“This has a really interesting flavor,” I said.
Cheryl’s eyes lit up. “I’m so glad you like it.”
“Mmm,” I mumbled with a mouth full of tasteless, gelatinous dessert.
Meemaw let her fork drop to the plate in a clatter. “I’m just too full to eat another bite.”
I stood up and took her plate. “I’ll take it to the kitchen for you.” I made it to the kitchen and scraped the remainder of my pie and Meemaw’s into the trashcan before Cheryl had a chance to even look up. Some things would never change. She still couldn’t cook for shit.
Cheryl brought her dessert plate into the kitchen. “I guess I’d better get going if I’m going to get to work on time.”
Meemaw yelled from the front room. “Dante, go grab those packages for her. They’re in the hall closet.”
I found the bag of toys and carried it outside.
She followed me to the back of the car and popped the trunk. “Thanks for inviting me, I had a nice time today.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome.”
“It was nice catching up. Sounds like you’re doing really well over in Newbridge. I remember you always wanted to get the big paying job and all.” She looked down at the ground. “I was wondering, would you want to maybe go out sometime?”
I sighed. I’d been waiting for her to bring up something like this. “I’m, uh, kind of seeing someone.” Meemaw was already under the false impression Faith and I had something going on. Why not let Cheryl believe the same thing? If my little white lie got rid of any lingering ideas Cheryl might be having, what was the harm?
“Oh sure. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” Cheryl slammed the trunk then hurried to the driver side door. She climbed inside, turning the key over in the ignition.
I tucked my thumbs in the front pockets of my jeans as Cheryl backed down the drive. I wasn’t sure what was going on with Faith and our strictly physical relationship, but the chemistry between us was hotter than anything I’d ever had with any other girl, including Cheryl. I didn’t believe in giving someone who’d crossed me a second chance, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize another go ’round with Faith.
As Cheryl’s car reached the end of the drive and made a right onto the main road toward town, I turned back toward the house. Meemaw stood at the front window, spying on me through the curtain. She should be taking it easy. I squashed all thoughts of Cheryl and Faith down for now and made my way into the house to do battle with my grandmother.