Free Ties That Bind by Marie Bostwick Page B

busy for introspection. What a relief. It is more blessed to give than to receive and, for me, usually much easier.
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    Contrary to Charlie’s prediction, Margot’s sister was late for dinner. Very late. Repeated calls to her cell phone went unanswered. Margot’s dad grew increasingly irritated as the minutes ticked past. He paced in front of the fireplace, clanking his ice in his glass, occasionally fishing out a piece and chewing on it, and grumbling.
    â€œMargot, did you tell her that dinner would be served at two?”
    â€œYes, Dad.”
    â€œWell, why isn’t she here? It’s quarter to three. And here we all sit, waiting, while the turkey dries out.”
    â€œNot at all,” Charlie assured him, though we both knew it wasn’t true. “The turkey is on schedule. Can I refill your glass, Werner? There’s plenty of eggnog.”
    â€œI’ll do it,” Margot said, taking her father’s glass and scurrying into the kitchen.
    â€œI’m sure she’ll be here soon,” Evelyn said. “She probably ran into traffic.”
    â€œThe roads were so icy coming down here,” Margot’s mother said, turning to Evelyn. “There were spots where we couldn’t go more than fifteen miles an hour.”
    â€œ We got here,” Werner harrumphed. “Right when we said we would.”
    Margot returned from the kitchen with her father’s glass. Werner stood directly in front of the fire with one arm crossed over his chest, tossed back half his eggnog in one gulp, and started chewing on another ice cube. I’ve never known anyone who drank eggnog on the rocks, but I suspected, for Werner, the ice was more about giving him something to do than keeping his beverage cold.
    â€œI tried Mari’s cell again,” Margot said. “No answer. Maybe we should go ahead and eat.”
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    The table was pretty, with a long, low line of white poinsettias wrapped in gold paper and ringed by white votive candles for the centerpiece and set with gold-rimmed china and tall crystal goblets that sparkled in the candlelight. Charlie and Evelyn had brought a bunch of white and gold Christmas crackers to the party, a gift sent by Charlie’s sisters in Ireland, and put one next to each place setting.
    Charlie demonstrated how to pull on the strings to open the cracker. The resulting pop made everyone jump, and the sight of Charlie wearing a pink paper crown on his head made everyone laugh, easing the tension. For a few minutes the room was filled with sounds of popping paper and the sight of adults looking silly and pleased in their own paper crowns, showing off the cheap plastic trinkets they found inside the paper tubes.
    Margot filled goblets with champagne. Charlie carried the turkey in from the kitchen and placed it on the sideboard, carving knife at the ready. Though it was his daughter’s table, Werner instinctively placed himself at the head of it. When everyone was seated, he bowed his head to bless the food, but his wife laid a hand on his arm.
    â€œWerner, perhaps Reverend Clarkson should say the prayer?”
    He looked at me, frowning. We were all members of the same denomination, but Werner Matthews seemed uncomfortable with the idea of a female minister. He’d barely talked to me all day. It didn’t bother me; I’d run into that sort of thing before and would again.
    â€œPlease, Mr. Matthews,” I said, bowing my head slightly, “you go ahead.”
    After Mr. Matthews prayed, Charlie carved and served the bird while the rest of us passed bowls and platters from hand to hand, filling our plates until there wasn’t room for so much as an additional cranberry. The turkey was a little bit dry, but that didn’t seem to make any difference to anyone but Charlie, who grimaced slightly when he took his first bite. Everything else was delicious. Now that the food was on the table, Margot’s father was more