Free Thanks for Giving by Jillian Chantal

 
    THANKS FOR GIVING
    Jillian Chantal
    Copyright © 2014
     
    Molly Touchstone tied the last of the burnt-orange colored ribbon to the railing with a tight square knot. Thanksgiving was the next day and she hadn’t had time to bring out her decorative turkey and cover the columns and rail across her front veranda until this chilly Wednesday evening. She’d been out of town until that morning and even though she needed to be cooking, deep in her soul, she really desired to have her traditional decorations up so she could sit out on the porch and enjoy them.
    The five-foot tall turkey was made of wood and each of the slats representing feathers behind its circular body were painted different colors to make for a festive tail for old Tom. Molly and her father made the bird when she was in high school and named him Thomas. She didn’t think that was very clever so, in her mind, she always called him Frank. When she moved out of her parents’ house after college, her dad insisted she take the thing with her. It was a piece of home and she loved that critter. She placed him in her yard every year.
    She smiled at the back of the turkey seated on her lawn and shivered as a shadowy figure passed in front of it. Clasping her hands around her bare arms and wishing she had her sweater, she called out, “Who’s there?”
    “It’s Chip. Chip French.”
    Her stomach leapt to her throat. Chip French? She hadn’t seen him in ages. He’d moved to Louisiana when they were in eleventh grade and even though he came back to town to see his grandparents from time to time, she was rarely home when he did. She reckoned she’d last seen him freshman year of college. The year he broke her heart.
    “What are you doing here?”
    “I’ve bought my grandmother’s house. I guess you know she had to be put in the nursing home a few weeks ago.” He stepped on the porch and when the light shone on him, it was all Molly could do not to gasp. The cute boy of her teen years had turned into a ruggedly handsome man.
    “No. I didn’t know. I’ve been gone.” It seemed as if it were suddenly colder. Molly rubbed her upper arms and winced at the chill on her skin.
    “It’s pretty brisk out here. Can we go inside and talk? I wanted to see you.”
    “Sure. Sorry I forgot my manners.” Molly blushed as she recalled how many times she and Chip almost got in trouble when they were alone together. She couldn’t resist him at all and had lost count long ago of the number of times they’d almost gone too far parked in his car or sitting on the porch swing at her parents’ home. She wondered if the old attraction would sweep them away again even after ten years.
    A bit disappointed when he walked in through the screen door and seated himself on the smallest chair, Molly followed him and, after shutting the door to keep in the heat, she sat on the couch across from the seat he’d chosen. She smiled. “What’s up? Why did you want to see me?”
    “Do you remember Matthew Brennan?”
    “Yeah, sure. He played baseball with you on the varsity team. Why?”
    “He’s in the hospital.”
    “What happened?”
    “He has leukemia.”
    “Wow. I had no idea. I haven’t seen him in a while. Didn’t he move to Maryland?” Molly couldn’t figure out where this conversation was going and as much as she liked seeing Chip, she really needed to get that sweet potato pie made. Her father always wanted her special recipe on Thanksgiving Day. Time was running short.
    “He’s back here now. He needs a bone marrow transplant.”
    “So he came here for the procedure since one of his family members is the donor?” Molly stood, walked over to the side table near the front door and picked up another spool of the orange ribbon to have something to do with her hands. She was itching to run her hands through his hair like she used to and was ashamed. He was talking about a very serious illness that their friend had and she was lusting after him. So not