“You don’t choose your family. They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.”

Desmond Tutu

“Set the table with the Russell Wright china, bring my the gravy boat, and fill the cream and sugar pots for after-dinner cofee. And thank you for polishng the silver yesterday. I don’t know how I’d finish all of this without you.” Shirley hooked a floral print apron carefully over her daughter’s hair and tied the strings behind her. Laura wore a deep purple dress with a full skirt and black satin beads along the collar.

“It’s the least I can do after adding three to the guest list.”

“Oh, pish-posh. We always buy a huge bird anyway. It will just be a few less leftovers.”

Glenn walked into the kitchen, handsome in his navy suit and crisp white shirt. He fingered the miniature turkey tie clip. “Thank you, ladies, for the festive accessory. And don’t you look lovely in that shade of blue, sweetheart.”

Laura was amazed that her mother still blushed at his compliments. She smiled as Mom’s fingers ran along the string of pearls at her neck.

“I declare he’s up to something, Laura Beth, with all these compliments. Or maybe into the leftover bourbon I didn’t use in the praline pie?” She grabbed a potholder and opened the oven door. The heavenly scent of roasting bird wafted in the air.

“I do believe you have outdone yourself.” He stuck his nose inside the door and breathed in a lungful of air. “I can smell the cornbread dressing. Mm-Mmm.”

“You say the same thing every year.” She swatted his hand as he tried to pull of a piece of the crispy brown skin. He managed a chunk of the sizzling cornbread and shook his fingers after he popped in his mouth. “You’ll deserve that blister! Now out of my kitchen while I finish up. And where is the music you promised me?”

He fiddled with the radio knob, crackles and static mixing with mumbled voices until Bing Crosby floated through the kitchen. “I’ve got plenty to be thankful for…” All three hummed along and went back to their designated chores.

Thirty minutes later, tires crunched on the gravel outside, accompanied by slamming doors and muffled male voices. “We’re here, Beth. We made it,” yelled Leroy through the windows. She saw the top of his baseball cap as he tried to jump up and wave through the kitchen window.

“Honey, get the door!”

“No, I’ve got it, Mom.” She ran to the front hall and almost collided with her father. “Sorry, Daddy. I just thought—”

“Go ahead, I’d rather be greeted by a pretty young girl too.”

She opened the door, and Leroy threw his arms around her. “Hi Beth, I’m sure starved, it smells so good in here. Hiya, Mr. Walters,” he said, stopping to take a breath and hold out his hand.

“Welcome, son,” her father said in a formal voice, extending his own palm. “Glad you could join us.”

Joe reached out and snatched the hat off his little brother’s head. “Not in the house, remember?”

The men finished their greetings and went into the family room. A fire burned cheerfully, and Laura’s mom appeared with a plate of deviled eggs. Her father valiantly began a conversation about football. “So the Texans are going against the Bears today in Ohio. Do you think they stand a chance?” he asked Mr. McCall.

“I doubt it with the lousy record they’ve got, but it’s their first year. They haven’t won a game in nine.”

Joe piped in. “The game I’d like to see is the Lions and the Packers. Now that’ll have some plays.”

And with the common denominator of football, they fell into an easy conversation as they munched on deviled eggs. Laura let out the breath she’d been holding. Her mother gave her a wink as she handed Leroy lemonade, poured a small amount of bourbon into three tumblers then passed them to the men.

Later, Laura asked Leroy if he would help her carry the turkey into the dining room. He had matured over the last year and was tall for seven, his arms and legs lean but wiry. Her mother had worried it might be too heavy, but Laura knew the strength in the growing boy. The women shared a secret glance of satisfaction at the crooked grin that spread across his face. Eyes focused on the bird, teeth biting his lower lip, Leroy walked slowly from the kitchen until he reached Mr. Walters chair at the head of the table. He stood with a large fork and carving knife in his hand.

“Well done. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a nicer Thanksgiving bird, have you?” Her father hesitated and looked at Max, holding out the utensils. “Did you want the honors?”

Laura swallowed the lump in her throat. Daddy had gone above and beyond for her today. Mom said he had worried all week. And here he was, offering to let another man take his place carving the turkey. As she looked around the table, she said her own silent prayer of thanks.

“Why, I thank you Glenn, but Dixie’s family always had ham on Thanksgiving. I’m afraid I’d just massacre that beautiful turkey.”

Glenn nodded, Shirley began the blessing, and the meal went off without a hitch.

* * *

Joe opened the box that had belonged to his grandmother. The sterling silver band had an intricate design of scrollwork on each side with tiny sapphires worked into the metal. A small diamond sparkled in the center. He had never given Laura Beth a real engagement ring. Laura Beth would think it was beautiful and appreciate the heirloom. He also knew she would see it as a consolation prize. It was, he admitted to himself as he snapped the box closed and put it in his pants pocket.

The porch door squeaked open. The scent of lavender preceded her. It always reminded him of summer and love. She settled next to him, her head on his shoulder, her fingers entwined in his. The knot is his stomach twisted and doubled. Yesterday had been a success. Pa had even invited Mr. Walters to stop by the garage, saying there was always a cold Lone Star in the office fridge at closing time.

“Laura Beth, I need to tell you something.” His fingers tightened around hers, and she nodded against his arm.

“I know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He wondered if he were that easy to read.

“Something has been bothering you since we went to the movie.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ve known you since I was six. Of course I sense when you’re troubled.”

“It’s about our future.” This was it. Time to spill the beans. “Plans have changed again.”

Eyes the color of a perfect summer sky gazed at him with pure joy. “Your father found the money to send you back to the university? I know it’s late, but maybe you could stay through the summer to finish up. We could still be married next fall.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head, not wanting to witness the anguish that would soon cloud those sunflower orbs.

“Joey, honey? What is it?” Trepidation laced her tone. “Whatever it is, we’ll work it out together like we always do.”

“I got my draft notice.”

She was stunned. Her face froze into a blank expression like those dummies in the department store windows. He waited for his announcement to sink in, pulling her to him. He needed to give her strength now. It was his turn.

Several birds chirped and argued; the chains on the swing whined as they swayed forward and back; a car rumbled by. Her breathing fell evenly against his chest, her body soft and limp. And then the first tears soaked his shirt. He let her cry, holding her close. A soft breeze pushed an auburn curl against her wet cheek. He brushed it away and kissed the top of her head.

“God will bring you back to me, Joey, I know that. I feel it. But the thought of being without you for so long… Austin seemed like a million miles away, but Korea is on the other side of the world.” She sat up and took his offered handkerchief, pulling herself together. “When do you leave?”

“Beginning of January. At least we have the holidays.”

“Do Max and Leroy know?”

“Only Pa.”

“Y’all have been through so much. It doesn’t seem fair.” She laid a palm against his cheek. “Do you want me to be with you when you tell Leroy?”

He nodded. “I was wondering, under the circumstances, if we should rethink our future.”

Anger flashed across her face, and she jumped from the swing. “Joey McCall, if you think to release me from our engagement because of a war, I’ll—”

Joe stood up abruptly, surprising her into silence. He had a second chance to do this right. He’d been too nervous the first time and had just blurted it out. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out the little black box and went down on one knee.

“Laura Beth Walters, you are the epitome of compassion and beauty and all that’s good in my world. I love you with a fierceness I didn’t know existed in my soul. Will you be my wife this Christmas and make me the happiest soldier in Texas?”

He didn’t know if the gasp was over his speech, the ring, or both. She clasped her hands under her chin, a tremulous smile on her lips.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, a hand over her mouth. “Dixie showed me this. It belonged to her mother.”

“It will have to be your engagement and wedding ring for now. So what do you say? Will you marry me?”

“I wouldn’t let you leave Texas without your name attached to the end of mine. Yes, Joey. Yes, I’ll be your Christmas bride.”