Cece Delacroix knows how to make people feel wanted. Dane’s family hosts a Thanksgiving dinner every year at Dastardly Bastards. Today, fifty people, give or take a few, sit at tables in the party room. Hosting a dinner at the bar makes sense. Plus…there’s beer.

Beats the heck out of many Thanksgiving dinners around Nashville.

The people at the dinner aren’t Dane’s family—except for Marty and Cece. They invite all the bar employees who can’t get home for the holiday.

Cece waves at me from the kitchen doorway. “Josie? Want to come with me?”

I look around for Dane. He disappeared after his employee mentioned getting a new motorcycle and wanting to show him. Boys and their toys.

Grandma Lulu and her boyfriend talk with an older couple. They won’t miss me.

“Coming,” I call out and walk across to meet Cece.

“Keep me company back here.” Cece grins and holds the swinging door open. “I’m getting the last of the food ready so we can start eating.”

“I should’ve offered to help.”

Her heels click against the tile. “Honey, I’m only heating food that’s already cooked. I just want your company and a smile.”

I follow her as she walks thru the galley style kitchen lined in stainless steel restaurant appliances and several large ovens. “I haven’t been back here much.”

“It’s not my favorite place. I like my kitchen at home better.” She grabs an apron and ties the strings around her waist.

“Hey. I don’t mind helping. I wish you’d let me do something. I loved helping Mom with holiday cooking when I was younger.”

She gives me a sympathetic look when I mention Mom. “I sure miss your mother, too.” She gazes at the wall as if remembering good times.

I rub the center of my round belly. “She’d be happy that I’m here with you for Thanksgiving. Give me a duty.”

“Okay. You can help, but no heavy lifting. We’re going to do this buffet style,” Cece says. “The salads and desserts are already out there. These rolls are ready to pull from the oven and you can put them in these serving baskets.”

“This is really cool. How long have you been hosting dinner here?”

“We've been doing this for over thirty years.” Cece shoves her hand into a mitt and grabs the warm rolls from inside the oven. She places the sheet on the counter next to a large wicker basket lined with cloth.

I hurry to the sink and wash my hands. Grabbing a hand towel, I pat my fingers dry and inhale the yeasty scent of rolls. “It seems like a lot of work for you.”

Cece grabs a pan of sliced ham and tongs. She begins pulling slices out to arrange them on a platter. “Not really. Dane had his cooks prep most of it for me. I did the desserts and salads. It’s our tradition, and I love it. Everybody’s happy and relaxed. Marty always hired a lot of wait staff who spent Thanksgiving alone – singers trying to make it on Nashville Row, college students who lacked airfare to get home, and those young people who don’t get along with their families. Along the way, we picked up a few of the homeless people who hang out around the bar. We have so much food it seems a shame not to ask them.”

That certainly explains the ones who didn't seem to fit in with everybody else. My love for Cece and Marty grows at the thought. This is why Dane is a good man. He has their values.

“Well thanks for inviting Grandma Lulu,” I say. “I usually spend holidays with her and Leo. This year, Leo went to Texas with Harper.”

“I told you to invite them any time. Dane said he invited your new bookstore partner and his father. Are they coming?”

“No. They are spending this week in Oahu. Webb said he’s going to force me to take off when the baby comes, so he’s taking some time off now.”

“Yes,” Cece says, eyeing my baby bump. “It’ll be here soon. I cannot wait.” She trills the last part. It’s good to see her so giddy.

“Be right back.” Cece exits the kitchen with the tray of ham and I continue arranging rolls in the basket. When I'm finished, I look around for something else useful to do.

“Do you think it's that easy to get rid of me?” a voice demands.

I startle, my heart slamming against my rib cage. I grab the edge of the counter and turn at her question. “Ellen. Holy cheezits. You frightened me.”

Does the woman not realize the risk she takes in sneaking up on a pregnant woman? I almost peed myself.

Her hair hangs in greasy strands against her cheeks. Her angry eyes pin me in place.

We’re alone in the kitchen, and it's not as if I’m scared of her. Still my startled heart doesn't clue into that fact. Bang-bang-bang it goes, throwing the rush of blood through my ears.

She gives me a sneer, one corner of her lip lifting. “I knew you and Dane would be here. Every year, they give out food like the king and queen passing out cake.”

I glance nervously at the swinging door to the kitchen. “You should go, Ellen. Cece will be back any minute.”

I place my hands on my stomach and hate the way the movement draws her eyes... “How did you get in here?”

She waves a hand toward the kitchen doors. “The front’s open. If Dane had just given me the money, I would've gotten your rings. I only borrowed them. I meant to return every last one. I’m no thief.”

“If you’d kept your sticky, dishonest fingers to yourself,— ”

Cece’s loud footsteps wrench my attention away from Josie's words. “Ellen,” she says with grit in her voice. “You better be gone in the next minute. I do not want to cause a scene, but you know you’re not welcome here.”

“Oh.” Ellen draws the exclamation out to three syllables. “There she is. Queen of the castle.”

Ellen’s focus switches to me. “Did you know that Cece was barren and I saved her marriage? No eggs. I’m the one that gave her everything she ever wanted and does she show one ounce of gratitude…”

This is the sentence that unleashes Cece’s wrath. She doesn't speak a word. Instead, she’s across the room and grabs Ellen’s upper arm before I can blink. Ellen struggles to get out of her grip, but Cece doesn’t release her.

My mouth drops. We’re about to have a throw down right here in the bar kitchen.

“You bitch!” Ellen grabs a handful of Cece’s hair and yanks.

“Stop it,” I yell with a rising sense of panic. I consider jumping in to separate them because Ellen might hurt Cece. I doubt the woman has been in a cat fight in her life. When I move forward, I can’t get a good shot at grabbing Ellen’s arm. The baby bump keeps getting in the way and I can’t risk a punch to the belly either.

Ellen screeches at Cece and pitches her against a refrigerator as if she weighs no more than a doll.

The heavy thump of her head hitting metal drives the air from my lungs. Cece slumps to the floor, her mouth open and eyes closed.

Ellen takes three steps back and shakes her head. “It’s her fault. She started it.”

“You’re a lunatic.” I run over and drop to my knees. “Cece? Are you okay?” I wobble, a little off-balance since my center is so heavy. Placing fingers on her neck, I feel for a pulse.

She moans and opens her eyes. “Josie?”

I exhale and look up. “Ellen, go get Dane or Marty.”

“You’re going to call the police? They’ll take me away forever. That’s what you want.”

“Stop it,” I say in a clipped voice that leaves no room for argument. My heart pounds so loudly in my ears I can barely think. Ellen may be mentally ill, but she doesn’t get a free pass to commit assault because of it.

Cece might be seriously hurt. With that thought, panic punches my lungs making it difficult to breathe.

I grab the edge of the table beside me and pull to my feet. If only I had my phone which I stupidly left in the other room. “Are you even listening to me? Go. Get. Dane.”

There’s no way I’m leaving Cece alone with her.

Ellen glares at me like a cornered animal. She pounces forward and shoves both hands against my shoulders. I stumble back, catching my hip against the sharp corner of the steel prep table.

Jumping fuckmuppets! I suck in a sharp breath and rub one hand over the place that’ll be an angry purple bruise by tomorrow. Then a touch of real fear burns along my nerve endings. I can’t afford to get into a fist fight with her. She’s unhinged. Dangerous. “Don’t touch me again,” I say in the steadiest voice I can muster.

I need a weapon. I feel behind me with one hand and grab the first thing my fingers hit. Pulling it forward, I hold it threateningly above my head. “Stay right there.”

Great. Of all the objects I’d hoped to grab, a turkey baster is all I managed.

Ellen points a finger at me. “You. You work for Satan. He sent you to take Dane from me. That’s right. You’re a devil in disguise and that baby is the spawn of—”

Dane appears behind Ellen in a blur of movement and snakes an arm around her waist. She kicks her legs out and misses me by inches.

“Fuck,” he yells. “What the hell?” His eyes dart around, taking in Cece on the floor. “Josie? Mom? Are you okay?”

His words hold a mixture of anger and fear.

“I’m okay. I’m going to call 911 for your mom.” Now that I can turn my back on Ellen, I check on Cece. She’s moved to a sitting position and places a hand on my leg.

“I’m okay. Don’t call. Get that woman out of here.” Cece’s voice trembles with rage. “If she’d hurt you…”

The sound of pounding footsteps draws my eyes to the kitchen doors, swinging open wildly when Marty appears. His gaze immediately falls to Cece and he rushes to her.

Glancing at Ellen, I notice she’s less rabid and ranting. But her hate-filled eyes still give away the delusional insults she hurled seconds ago.

Dane backs away with Ellen still wrangled in his hold. “Fuck,” he says again as if it’s the only word worthy of the situation. “Take care of this,” he says to his dad.

And with that, he turns and half-drags Ellen through the kitchen and out the back door of Dastardly’s. I sag against the prep table at my back, the spike of adrenaline descending in a free fall.

Marty looks at both me and Dane’s mom. For a large man, he moves with surprising grace and swoops Cece from the floor to her feet. Pulling both of us to his sides in a hug, he exhales. “I’m not letting you two out of my sight for the rest of the day. How did she get back here?”

“Walked in the front door, I think.” I lay my head against his shoulder.

Marty squeezes me to him in a gentle hold. “From now on, the door stays locked with a secret handshake to get in. But I’m guessing that Dane’s making sure Ellen will be locked up for the rest of today at least. I’ll get some help out there to carry in the rest of the food. You two are coming with me.”

I nod and glance longingly at the back door. I’m no longer hungry and all I want is Dane back safely with me. I know he can handle anything, but Ellen is dangerous. More dangerous than I’d understood.

* * *

Dane calls from the hospital several hours later to let me know he’ll be a while. I offer to go to him, but he insists that I don’t. I try not to let it bother me.

Shouldn’t he want me there with him? Aren’t I part of this life we’re building, joys and problems? His strained voice tells a story and I don’t want him to bear everything alone.

Marty and Cece drive me home and bring enough Thanksgiving leftovers to last weeks. “Let’s freeze this part of it,” Cece says. “The rest can go in the fridge if there’s room.” She smooths a hand over my hair like I’m a little girl.

I don’t protest. I’m lucky to have someone like her to love me. Marty walks back outside for a second load of food.

She opens the door of my fridge and eyes the packed shelves. “Can I throw out some older stuff for you?" She moves some takeout containers to the counter.

“Sure,” I answer, only half listening. My thoughts are still back at the restaurant.

I shudder at the thought of Ellen and the hate she spewed at me earlier. I know it wasn’t normal or lucid or rational. But still, it’s a hurt I haven’t felt in a long time—like an emotional beating. And how must Dane feel if he heard Ellen’s words? “Thanks. You do whatever you think is best,” I say.

I take a seat on a stool at the kitchen’s island bar and watch Cece delight in organizing the fridge. Mothers. I hope I’m never so old that I think that’s fun—like the homemaker’s version of Tetris.

Marty hovers at the side of the kitchen. Cece smiles at him. “Quit hovering. Go on into Josie’s family room and watch football until I’m ready to go. You can figure out her remote control. Men are born with that knowledge, right?”

Marty chuckles and shakes his head. “Call me when you’re ready to go.” He strolls across the room and leaves me alone with Cece.

“Dane was the best baby,” she says, her head bent into the refrigerator as she examines the sell-by date on some mayonnaise and then frowns. “I kept thinking every day that I was so darn lucky. My friends had those colicky babies who stayed up half the night. Not my Dane.”

“Hmm...” I say and rest my chin on my palm. “Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

“Ellen worked for us at the bar. Before she went all crazy. I never liked her. She flirted with every man. If you had a dick, you had her attention.”

My mouth drops open. “Cece!” I laugh despite the seriousness of our conversation.

“Oh yeah. Forgive my potty mouth, but I get angry just thinking about her. That’s not all. She lied every time she opened her mouth. Back then, she’d call in sick and then someone would see her partying three doors down. Marty suspected she even took money from the bar’s till. He couldn’t prove it, but we both know.”

I frown. “So did you guys fire her?”

“No. She fired herself. One day she didn’t show up for her shift. Next thing you know, it’s over a year later and she shows up with a baby.”

I glance down at my own swollen midsection. “Did she ask for her job back?”

Cece stands and looks me in the eye. “She asked us to take her baby and raise him. At first, I thought she was kidding. She didn’t really know us that well. But she did know we didn’t have children. She also knew I wanted a baby more than anything. She was right today when she said I was barren.”

“Oh, Cece.” I want to give her a hug, but she waves me off as if she can read my mind. “I’m fine. That was a long time ago. Today was a clincher. I’ll tell you that. I realize she gave me a gift. I do. But since then, she’s done so many horrible things that we didn’t share with Dane because I wanted to protect him. When Dane told me he’d wanted to meet her, I thought, “All right. He’s a grown man. But then she tells him she’s a diagnosed schizophrenic and puts Dane on all her medical paperwork. I don’t trust her. It’s just a way to entwine him in her life. So there. It doesn’t matter that she’s schizophrenic. She’s always been an awful person in my book. A person can only forgive so much. And she wanted to hurt me and I’m sure she’d hurt you.”

“It was scary,” I admit.

Cece throws out my mayo. Jeez. I needed that for turkey sandwiches. “I’ll bring you a new jar tomorrow,” she says and winks at me. “Promise. Anyway…I had Dane and Marty, and life was grand. Then Dane turns three and she shows up on our doorstep asking to see him. That was never supposed to happen. I was home alone. Marty was at a restaurant convention in Chicago. It’s as if she waited for him to leave.”

My insides roll, and I sit up. “What did she want?” Stupid question of the year. I’m sure she wanted to see Dane.

“I think she wanted to scare me.”

My heartbeats come faster. I try to swallow, but my throat is dry. “Did she ask to see Dane?”

Cece’s nostrils flare. “She was a wild woman. She didn’t ask to see him. She demanded. She forced her way inside our home, ranting about how I had taken things that were hers. Like today with you. Dane was already asleep. Those were the days before you carried a cell phone on you all the time. I was afraid to take my eyes off her because I couldn’t call the police and make sure she didn’t snatch Dane and run off with him.”

“I would’ve freaked out.”

Cece takes a deep breath. “She said I was only the pretend mother. That she would take my husband and take my home and take her baby back. It was crazy. I told her that my neighbor was coming over any minute and that she’d call the police.”

“Does Dane know about this?”

“No. It happened a long time ago. I wanted to get a restraining order against her. We had a legal document saying she had no contact with Dane. But I really wanted her to stay away from me. From my home. And after that point, I couldn’t go to a park or anywhere without holding tightly to Dane’s hand. I was always afraid of her.” Cece gives an embarrassed laugh.

“Back then,” Cece says, “I insisted that Marty file a restraining order. We did, but she went into a short-term mental facility around that time. Her life was too volatile and unpredictable. I didn’t tell Dane about my history with her because I thought I was protecting him. It was wrong, but I did it because I love him and didn’t want him to hurt.”

“Yes,” I whisper, my throat cinched tight. I inhale and exhale slowly. “Me, too.”

“Make him talk to you about today. Men. They bottle things up like they’re state secrets. But he’ll be worried.”

“About Ellen?”

She shakes her head. “No, honey. He’s going to be worried about you and the baby.”

“We’re fine.” I tilt my head. “Really.”

“It worries him, the hereditary part. Marty said they had a conversation where Dane mentioned his concerns. Dane says she’s all right when she takes her medication and goes to counseling. He told Marty to watch him for any signs he wasn’t acting normal as if you wouldn’t be the one to handle it head on. I know you. You’d be the first to confront him if you thought he needed to see a doctor.”

“Of course, I would.” I frown and swallow hard. “Why’s he not talking to me about this?” But then I remember that he did once, in the beginning when I told him about the baby.

“Dane doesn’t want you to worry. He’s always been like this, wanting to carry the burden for someone else. It’s his nature and he can’t help it. That’s why we love him so much.”

I’m silent, my chest tight and my eyes burning as if tears will spill despite my best efforts. It’s as if the events of the day crash into my reality.

Delusional Ellen wanted to hurt me with her awful words. But mainly, I think she hurt Dane today. I know it’s the schizophrenia talking, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Fear and doubt can topple even the strongest man.