Diva Runs Out Of Thyme

For a dramatic centerpiece, hollow out eight small pumpkins. Randomly make holes in all of them with an electric drill. Be sure you drill matching holes on the sides so they can be joined in a circle. Use screws and bolts to fasten the pumpkins into a circle. Place a votive candle in each pumpkin and you’ll have a sparkling showpiece for the center of your table or your buffet.

Hannah bounced into the kitchen, typically oblivious to the chaos in my life. “I’m taking a bath and doing my hair while Craig is out. Don’t want him to see me in hot curlers.”

I could have used some help, but if she was going to hog the only full bathroom for a while, she probably ought to do it now.

Dad grumbled a bit about Bernie having taken over the den. I gathered he’d planned to hide there with the newspaper. Instead, he and Daisy hit the brick sidewalks for a stroll.

Unlike Mars, who’d rather have died than spend the morning with three women in the kitchen, Bernie puttered about in his bathrobe, completely comfortable. He put on the kettle for tea, sampled cranberry sauce that had gelled, stirred roux for the gravy until it turned golden and smelled delicately nutty, and asked June about her sister.

I wondered if his unorthodox upbringing in so many different households had something to do with his ease and obvious desire to cozy up in the kitchen with us.

While she talked, June’s knitting needles flew like they were on autopilot. “In the forties, an elegant socialite named Perle Mesta hosted intimate dinner parties for select guests in Washington. Legend has it that more than one international deal was sealed at her dinner table. She knew who to put together, you see, in a gracious setting, so that political deals could be worked out.”

She paused to untangle Mochie’s paw from her yarn. “Given that group of pompous political wannabes Natasha had at the house last night, I’d say she aspires to Perle Mesta fame.” She tsked. “Explains why she had to sink her claws into Mars. Anyway, Faye never quite reached Perle’s stature but she entertained Washington glitterati here. Things were different then. Women wanted jobs and entered the workforce, and being a domestic diva lost its glamour for a good many years. But that never deterred Faye. She put on her orange miniskirt and tie-dyed tops and hosted everything from séances to elegant midnight dinners. That’s why the dining room is so large. She put the addition on the back of the house so she could accommodate big parties.”

A mug of tea in his hand, Bernie walked over to examine Faye’s picture. “We should hold a séance to see if we can contact her.”

I bit my lip and waited to see if June would mention talking to Faye.

June simply smiled and said, “She never was the prettiest girl at the party but she sure was the most fun.”

Time sped by with Mom and me arguing over whether basting a turkey actually makes a difference in moistness. I claimed it didn’t and that opening the oven to baste only dropped the temperature. Mom insisted that drizzling the top with juices made for moister meat.

With the side dishes well under way, I faced the challenge of Thanksgiving hors d’oeuvres. Some guests don’t want anything before the heavy meal but others choose to nibble. I mixed a batch of my light-as-air one-bite cheese puffs to bake in the oven as guests arrived. For those willing to eat a little bit more, I stuffed mushroom caps with a zesty crabmeat mixture.

All the dishes under control, I pulled on my sweater and popped out to the backyard with a basket and pruning shears. Though I hated to steal them from the birds, the orange pyracantha berries growing along the back fence would make a perfect centerpiece. Low enough for guests to see over, yet vibrant and cheery. I cut enough to fill several small vases. Natasha would have done something far more elaborate but I liked the simplicity of the berries. While I was out there, I righted the pots the Peeping Tom had knocked over.

Back inside, I pulled out one of Faye’s ultra-long tablecloths of woven green, amber, and pumpkin plaid. When we inherited her sizable collections of china patterns and silver, I wondered what we would do with it all. Now I was thrilled to have a dozen matching place settings to use.