Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Part 51

Still sitting behind the closed bathroom door, Charlotte was dried off, and dressed when there came a familiar rapping sounded on the other side of the door.

"Sweetheart, it's me." The voice was all too familiar, all too sing- songy.

Charlotte's heart sank down into the baby. Swallowing hard, she tried to bolster her spirits. "I'll be right out."

"Daddy and I have a surprise, so do hurry."

Determined to put a better foot forward, Charlotte put a smile on her face, and picked up her discarded pajamas. Opening the door, she wrapped her full arms around her mother, said, "Hi Mom." and noted that Deborah Jane Landis seemed smaller and more frail.

"How are you, dear?"

"Fine. I just have to take it easy." Charlotte walked past her mother and started towards her bedroom. Her mother followed. "How are you?"

"Can't complain." Then changing the subject, "Did Sam keep our trip a secret?"

"Yes, I had no idea you and Dad were coming."

Her mother giggled like a school girl. "We made him promise not to tell."

"Well he didn't." Her voice almost giving away the frustration she was feeling.

"This is so exciting. Oh due hurry up so we can go down stairs."

"I'm all set." The words out of her mouth Charlotte wondered if she was ever really all set for her parents. Oh they were well meaning, and loved her and her family deeply, but they were eccentric -- to be nice. Having sold their home, and bought a land ark, they traveled all the time. Their communication limited to sporadic emails and the static filled cell phone conversations, Charlotte never knew really where they were on any given day. Occasionally package would arrive from far away places like Nevada or Oregon, even even close by places like New Jersey with tshirts and pressed pennies for the girls. Cheers would erupt, "A new penny!" and a push pin was placed in the girls' map of the United States that hung in the family room. Thinking of the map made her smile.

As she walked down the stairs, Charlotte was delighted that last night's mess was no where in sight, or detectable. Of course her parent's knew Sam had a little problem. But who wants to face it the minute they stop in for a visit. Was this a visit? Or was it something more permanent? What was her parents' news?

Walking into the kitchen, the sound of sizzling bacon and her father's military embrace greeted her. "Hi Dad."

"Hello Charlotte." Having been in the military, active and reserves for over 40 years, the military style was all he knew. Growing up his daughter learned not to press for any more emotion than he was able to present. Besides her mother more than made up for him.

Seated at the kitchen table, her morning decaf before her, Charlotte asked. "So what do we owe this visit to?"

Unable to contain herself anymore Charlotte's mother blurted, "We're here for Thanksgiving."

Charlotte's first thought was, Oh God, there's no food in the house. It dawned on her that there was no sign of turkey, no stuffing, no ten pound bag of potatoes waiting in the wings to be peeled. "Well, that is a surprise." Still wondering with Thanksgiving the next day, what they were going to eat.

"Yes it will be a regular Pilgrim experience."

Charlotte laughed. She absolutely loved visiting Plymouth Plantation and that first Thanksgiving wasn't any thing like what is depicted in all those children's stories. "What, 90 Wompanoag men are coming to our door, baring 5 deer and many fowl."

"Close, we're going to Plymouth for a Thanksgiving feast."

The girls were jumping about the kitchen screaming with delight. Sam, still a bit hung over, was a bit more jovial as he now stirred the scrambled eggs. And Charlotte was more delighted than them all put together. Were they in for the Victorian meal, the traditional American faire, or the rugged Pilgrim feast? Regardless, it was her dream to eat their. But how could you break with the tradition of cooking at home?

Her mother, her smile wrapped clear across her face said, "We've had this plan for weeks now. As soon as we heard you were pregnant, we made the reservation. Figuring you wouldn't really want to cook."

It was true. She didn't want to cook. And now with all her restrictions, she couldn't cook. Basking in the fullness of delight Charlotte replied, "You're right. And this is so wonderful. Thank you."

Her dad, lowering his guard for a moment added, "Don't thank us yet. The only feast we could get is the one were you eat with your hands."

Charlotte gave off a guffaw, while the girls cheered all the louder.

(17969 -- Some how I don't think this number will say 50000 in a week and a half...)

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