Reggie thought about her brief yet embarrassing encounter with Toby. They hadn’t exchanged more than a handful of words, and most of those had been her babbling.

“He’s probably dating someone.”

“Not that I’ve heard,” Dena told her. “Regardless, I’ll change the subject because I’m just that great a person.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. How’s it going with the wedding?”

Reggie told her about the invitations and the replanting of the Christmas cactus.

Dena winced. “I can help. I can work on some when I get home from school.”

“Between lesson planning, running the B and B, barfing and being exhausted? I don’t think so. You focus on yourself and the baby.”

“Winona runs the B and B. I’m just backup. The barfing is a little better. I’ve been using some pressure techniques, and they seem to help.”

“How’d you learn about those? I’ve never heard of them.”

Dena looked at her salad. “One of the guests at the B and B.”

Reggie studied her sister. There was something in her posture. Something that made Reggie ask, “What aren’t you telling me?”

Dena’s eyes widened. “Nothing. Why?”

“You’re hiding something.”

“You’re imagining things. You just listed everything going on in my life. When would I have time to hide anything?”

Reggie wanted to keep pushing, but their mother walked into the kitchen, and the moment was lost.

“When you’re done with your salads, could you start setting the table?” Leigh said. “I want to use the good china and the nice glasses. Oh, and add three place settings.”

Reggie looked at Dena, who shrugged.

“We’re having company?” Reggie asked.

“Just a couple friends. Nothing special.”

“Who?” Dena asked.

Their mother smiled. “You’ll see.”

Knowing pursuing the topic wouldn’t help, Reggie carried their empty plates over to the sink, then followed Dena into the dining room. They made quick work of picking out linens and putting an old-fashioned candelabra on the buffet.

Dena touched the tall white tapered candles. “We probably shouldn’t light these. If Burt goes after Belle, she could easily bump into the buffet and poof, there goes our happy Thanksgiving.”

“A house fire isn’t what any of us longs for.”

While Dena took the good china out of the hutch, Reggie collected the flatware. She found a half-finished cross-stitch project in with the serving pieces and laughed.

Dena grinned. “Mom, we found your counted cross-stitch. The one of the giraffe.”

Their mother walked into the dining room. “Where was it? I’ve been looking for it forever.”

“Hutch drawer.”

Leigh took it and waved it. “I’m putting this in the basket by my recliner. If I forget, please remind me.”

Belle wandered into the dining room, looking more worried than usual.

“What is it, little girl?” Reggie asked. “Do you want to go out?”