True, but she’d only known him for a month. That hardly gave him priority over longtime friends. Other than bruise his ego, he didn’t let it bother him.
“Bad news, guys. Deena isn’t coming.” He set the phone aside without responding to her text.
“You don’t sound too upset.” John stared at him through quizzical eyes.
“I’m not. She had the chance to fly home to L.A. and spend the holiday with friends.” Mac shrugged. “Why should I begrudge her that opportunity?”
“Because she made a commitment to spend the day with you.” Dad glowered. “Back in my day, we didn’t change plans because a better offer came along.”
“It’s fine, Dad. It’s not that serious.”
Dad harrumphed. “It speaks volumes of her character.”
He didn’t completely disagree, but he wouldn’t speak poorly of Deena. “Look on the bright side. If Deena isn’t here, the paparazzi won’t be either, and we can enjoy our day in peace.”
John whooped. “Now that’s something to be thankful for.”
Mercy giggled.
The men looked to see what she laughed at—a massive turkey balloon in the parade.
“Turkey,” John said, emphasizing the syllables. “Can you say tur-key?”
“Dada.”
“No, tur-key.”
“Mama.”
The game continued, bringing laughter to the room. Mercy never did say turkey, but John’s smile broadened each time his daughter said dada.
Watching his brother-in-law interact with Mercy made Mac long for a child of his own. He glanced at his dad and reflected on the bond they’d built over the years. They’d had their share of differences, but nothing could come between them.
Mom wouldn’t need the extra help with Dad soon, and Mac would have the freedom to move out on his own again. He should be rejoicing, but he’d miss this time with his parents. Dad’s stroke brought the realization that his parents wouldn’t live forever. He hated that truth, but it was life. All he could do was cherish them for the time they had together.
He reached for his phone and sent Deena a response, keeping it simple.I’ll see you when you get back.
A broken date couldn’t ruin his Thanksgiving. He had too much, right under this roof, to be grateful for.
Chapter Eleven
Christmas music blared from the speakers in the fellowship hall. Phoebe sang along, joyful that Christmastime had officially arrived, and no one would fault her for indulging in her favorite carols. Not that it had stopped her before, but now others joined in without hesitation.
Folding tables lined the perimeter of the hall. Each one contained a grouping of items to fill the blessing bags for the nursing home. Starting with shampoo and ending with brushes, each bag would have sixteen items—if everyone bought the items they’d pledged—plus a handwritten Christmas card wishing the resident a Merry Christmas.
Multiple tables looked scarce, but they didn’t plan to start assembling the bags for another half hour. Plenty of time for the class members to bring their items. She made a list of all the items, then went table by table and counted the inventory so far. When she finished, Phoebe realized the numbers weren’t far off from what they needed—one hundred of each item. Some tables only looked empty because the items didn’t take up much space.
At six o’clock, Ana stepped up to the microphone to give instructions. “Grab a bag from table one. The bags on the right are for men, the bags on the left are for women. Please pay attention because some items are gender specific.”
Darla tugged on Phoebe’s sleeve. “Don’t look now, but Mac just walked in.”
“I’m assuming you’re trying to tell me not to look because Deena is with him?”
“Yes, and there’s an entourage with her.”
Against her better judgment, she glanced at them. She hadn’t made any progress in the jealousy department, except she’d learned to disguise it better. Who were all those people with Deena? She peered closer and saw reporters, news cameras, and men carrying boxes.
What in the world?
