Reflections

by evitascarlett

A companion piece to 'Apologize'. Chronicling the lives and love story of Jim and Johanna Beckett through the years. See Authors Note at the beginning of Chapter One for more details! Cover art by LordofKavaka

62. Chapter 62- Thanksgiving Vendetta Pt 3

Authors Note: Thanks for your reviews!

Chapter 62-The Thanksgiving Vendetta-Part 3

"Are you sure you feel up to going out shopping with your mother?" Jim asked the next morning as he watched Johanna rummage through her dresser, clad in black jeans and her bra; pale red welts still visible on her skin despite treating them throughout the night. "You didn't sleep last night."

"I'm fine," she remarked as she finally found the red long sleeve shirt she had been searching for but dropping it for a second as she scratched a welt on her arm.

"You're still itchy."

"Only a couple of them are still a little itchy; I put more lotion on them when I was in the bathroom. They'll be fine."

"I hope so," he murmured.

Johanna gave him a smile as she pulled the shirt on. "The oatmeal took care of the majority of it, the few remaining are just stubborn. I'm fine."

He gave a slight nod of acceptance; knowing he was probably on the verge of driving her crazy. "Long sleeves are going to aggravate those stubborn ones."

"I know," she admitted. "But I don't want my mother seeing the few hives I still have left; a couple of them would be visible on my chest if I wore one of my short sleeve shirts with the v-neck."

"But you'd probably be more comfortable and less itchy, wouldn't you?"

She shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not but I'll have to risk it. I don't want her to know."

"What do you think would happen if she found out?"

Johanna met his eye. "Let's just say it's probably in your mother's best interest if my mother doesn't know…it wouldn't be pretty if she took it into her head to go after her."

"It might fix my mother's attitude…"

"If there's anything left of her when my mother is finished."

"Point taken," Jim remarked as he laid back down. "I wish you didn't have to go so early…we were just getting comfortable."

Johanna smiled and combed her fingers through his hair. "Go back to sleep for awhile…will you be here when I get back?"

"I'll be here," he promised.

"Good; I need to find my purse, I think I threw it somewhere in the living room when I got home last night."

"I put it in the closet with your coat."

"Thank you," she told him as she slipped on her watch and headed for the door.

At the thought of her coat, Jim threw back the covers and got out of bed and followed her.

"Maybe you shouldn't go; I mean have you really thought about it? You're going to be wearing a coat, you'll be in crowds of people in those stores, the heat is really going to make those hives that haven't cleared up itch even more," Jim stated as he followed her to the living room.

Johanna grabbed her boots from near the door and carried them to the couch where she sat down to put them on. "I'm not staying home," she replied. "I've been looking forward to going shopping and I'm going."

"I don't…" he began to say but Johanna raised a hand and silenced him.

"Jim, please don't drive me crazy about this," she pleaded, a feeling of exasperation washing over her. She knew he was concerned and she loved him for it but things were settling now and she'd much rather just go about her business and forget that it happened.

His jaw tightened. "Forgive me for caring about you," he stated tersely. "Reactions from a food allergy aren't something to be so blasé about."

"Yeah, I know; believe me, I'm acutely aware of it," she snapped back. "Tell it to your mother."

"I knew you blamed me," he retorted. "You can sugar coat it all you want but I know the truth!"

Johanna rolled her eyes. "I do not blame you! I've told you that a hundred times. Just stop; please. The worst of this reaction is over. Relax."

"I can't help it that I love you, Johanna; although I tried!" he retorted, anger building within him without notice.

She looked at him for a long minute, her teeth worrying her bottom lip for a moment as she composed her thoughts. "So what is it about me that made loving me seem so terrible to you?"

"It wasn't you; it was me being stupid. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I just love you and want to take care of you and it's like you don't care at the moment."

"Oh my God; are you serious?!" she exclaimed. "You think I don't care! Where the hell would you even get that idea? Just because I don't want you blowing this out of proportion? If I didn't let you take care of me, I would've been spreading that oatmeal paste on myself, instead of letting you do it. You know I care; don't stand there and make me out to be some self absorbed bitch."

"I never said that; I said I love you and I care about you."

"Yeah; you said that; you also said that I didn't care about your feelings and that's so far from true it isn't even funny!" Johanna retorted. "I just wanted you to relax because it's over with for the most part. I love you, Jim; and don't you ever imply otherwise, but you don't have to drive me crazy!"

"Why the hell not?" he yelled. "You drive me crazy."

"What do I do that drives you crazy?!"

"Everything."

"It can't be everything or you wouldn't stick around," she shot back. "Maybe you ought to narrow down your list and I'll work on it. Is this your hint that you need another break from me?"

"I don't need a break from you! Do you need one?"

"No; I get along with myself just fine," Johanna said sarcastically.

"Don't be a smartass."

"Impersonating my father won't get you anywhere," she responded. "Now tell me how I drive you crazy."

"Okay," he said, "You want a list? I've got one for you. How about how you have to tap your foot all the time?"

"I only do that when I'm nervous!"

"Well when it reaches the second hour, I want to tell you to get over it while I glue your foot to the floor," Jim remarked.

Johanna glared at him. "I'll do my best to break that habit…and maybe the next time you're spending hours trying to squeeze the stress out of your neck you'll pop your head off and be able to put it back on right!"

"This is my list, not yours," Jim retorted. "You always have to talk when I'm trying to watch a game!"

"Oh, does that bother you?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, it does."

"Good; now you know how I feel when you talk during my shows!"

"So you've been doing it deliberately?" he asked.

Johanna smiled. "You know what, Jim; sometimes I do."

It was his turn to glare. "You wait; you just wait until the next time Mary Tyler Moore is on."

She scoffed. "Like you don't already talk through half of it! Come on; give me the rest of your list of things that annoy you about me."

"Alright; what about your avoidance issues?"

"What avoidance?"

"The family thing," he stated. "You avoid that a good bit."

"Really; we're going to rehash that again? Are you not coming with me on Christmas, because I thought we already went through this and had a plan?"

"At the moment I'm not sure that family holidays are a good idea," Jim remarked.

"Oh so because you're mother's a bitch you're going to bail on me?" Johanna asked. "That wouldn't be some avoidance on your part, now would it? You know like how you wanted to avoid making a commitment to me?"

"Don't even go there!" he yelled.

"You started it!" she yelled back. "Don't pin all of the avoidance on me; that's like the pot calling the kettle black! Now what else is on your list?"

"How about how you neglect your health? Look at last winter; you let that cold get so bad it could've turned into pneumonia or worse. You eat pecans and break out in hives but won't let me take you to a doctor so you can be given something."

"Excuse me, but I don't neglect my health! I'm not the one that eats bacon every day of the week. I go out running on the weekends and you're sitting on the couch with your bottle of beer watching whatever stupid ballgame is on TV. Unlike you, I also don't run around in the winter time without a coat! You ended up sick yourself last winter so I don't know who the hell you're preaching to but you better back up, buddy boy."

"I don't need to run, I have a fast metabolism," he remarked.

"There's nothing wrong with mine either, I just like to do it!"

"Then go do it," he told her; "Then you're not talking during my game."

"The next time you're watching a game on my TV, I'm cutting the damn cord as soon as it's at a crucial moment…it'll be worth buying a new TV!"

"You know what else drives me crazy!?" Jim asked.

"What!" she said as she surged to her feet and moved across the room to be closer to him, her hands on her hips.

"You still wear that outfit I hate," he told her. "That prissy pink blouse and grey skirt. I hate that outfit; I told you I hate it and you still wear it!"

"Well the next time I put it on, why don't you just take it off of me," she retorted. "If you think you can!"

Johanna found herself against the wall being kissed senseless before she could even realize what had happened. When his mouth parted from hers, allowing her to take a breath, he stayed as close as possible, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. "I can take off of you what you have on now, if you want me to prove I'm up to the task," he stated; his tone low and firm.

"My mother is on her way," Johanna replied; her voice carrying an edge of tartness as she gently pushed him away. "Why are we even doing this?" she asked; emotion suddenly taking over, her eyes stinging with tears she told herself she wasn't going to shed.

"I don't know," he said, shoving a hand through his hair as he walked away from her and began to pace.

She sniffled a little, trying desperately to hold back tears; she didn't want to cry…there was really no reason to…was there?"

"Don't cry," Jim murmured. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. Last night was a disaster and we're tired and still upset about it. I didn't mean the things I said…except about that outfit you wear to work, but I told you that before."

She swiped her fingers under her eyes, brushing away the couple of tears that had dared to slip free. "I'll try to quit tapping my foot when I'm nervous," she said softly; "I know it's annoying and I won't bother you during your ballgames. I'm sorry I called football stupid in front of your brothers and father; I should've kept my mouth shut. It's what you like and I respect that."

Jim shook his head. "I didn't care that you voiced your opinion."

"And while I'm not trying to avoid anything," Johanna said; "You don't have to come to my parents house for Christmas dinner like we planned. I understand why you'd want to back out of that given the way last night went. I won't hold it against you."

He squeezed the back of his neck. "Maybe we should talk about it when it gets closer…maybe holidays are too much pressure for that kind of thing."

She nodded; trying not to feel stung after she had already accepted the idea that Jim would be having dinner with her at her mother's for Christmas. It kind of made Thanksgiving feel like she had suffered in vain somehow…after all, they'd had a deal; she'd go to Elizabeth's and he'd go to her mother's; but she wouldn't say anything more about it. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean the things I said either…you're not unhealthy for eating bacon a lot."

He gave her a smile. "I don't care if I am."

Johanna shifted on her feet awkwardly and he knew that he had set things off balance…and that coupled with the disaster of the night before started to make him wonder if he should give his thoughts of proposing more consideration. Maybe it was too soon after all…but on the other hand, should he really let a family dinner make that decision?

"I'm sorry that I accused you of not caring about my feelings for you," Jim said quietly as he moved closer. "I know you care…and I know that sometimes I go off the deep end and annoy you when you're in no mood to be annoyed."

"It's okay," she whispered. "I shouldn't be so sensitive."

"You have a right to be," he told her. "You took it a lot better than I would have…I wouldn't have blamed you for calling my mother every name in the book and shoving the turkey down her throat."

"The thought crossed my mind," she admitted; "But that's what she wanted…and I couldn't give her that satisfaction."

Jim gave a nod as he moved closer once more and cupped her cheek. "I am sorry…about last night, about getting crazy about things…and picking a fight; I really didn't mean to do that, Jo."

"I know," Johanna replied. "I shouldn't have taken the bait…apparently I can only swerve away from one fight within a twenty four hour period."

He smiled and dipped his head to kiss her. "Are we okay?"

"Yeah; of course."

Jim wasn't all that convinced but before he could say so, a knock sounded at the door. "That's my Mom," she whispered.

He stole another quick kiss and released her, allowing her to go answer the door.

Naomi McKenzie swept into the room after the door opened, an air of irritated energy radiating from her being. "What's wrong, Mom?" Johanna asked after they greeted her.

"This was the worst Thanksgiving of my life," Naomi declared. "I'm still so irritated about it that I could hit something."

"Must be going around," Jim muttered so quietly that only Johanna heard him and she gently elbowed him in the ribs.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Those…people, for lack of better words," Naomi said; "Are the rudest, most stuck up guests I've ever had at my table. Next year your sister can cry until hell freezes over because the Westons will not be invited…in fact your father has already said that they will never step foot in our house again and I don't blame him. People better stay out of my way today while we're shopping because I could probably hurt someone."

"What did they do?" Johanna asked, suppressing a laugh.

"They acted like my house wasn't good enough for them," she declared. "Millicent kept saying it was 'quaint' and that she didn't know how I managed to raise three children under that roof…after all, her guest bathroom looks bigger than our living room," she said, mocking Millicent's tone.

Johanna rolled her eyes. "She's a damn liar; if her bathroom is bigger than your living room than she must have an Olympic sized pool in it."

"She also made a big deal out of it that you and your brother weren't there," Naomi went on. "Saying it's a shame how I've lost control of my children like that."

"Did you tell her that Frankie was having dinner with his wife's family…that they get equal time?"

"I told her," Naomi exclaimed; "And I told her you were having dinner with Jim; and do you know what she said?!"

"What?" Johanna asked; going on alert.

"She said it wasn't proper for you to be having dinner with a family you weren't married into but that it didn't surprise her because you weren't all that proper to begin with. Your father tore into her before I could even get my mouth open," Naomi told her. "He told her that if she ever so much as breathed your name in a way he didn't like again, she'd be eating her teeth along with the turkey."

"Dad said that?" she asked in surprise.

"He did; and Henry made a comment about thinking you were pretending to have a boyfriend just so you didn't have to face him…I put him in his place for that, dear."

"I'm glad," Johanna told her.

"And Paul's father criticized my food!"

"What!"

"He said he didn't believe for a minute that my rolls were homemade because this isn't Little House on the Prairie; people don't do that anymore. He also said they tasted like store bought rolls and that my gravy was bland. I've never made bland gravy or served store bought rolls on a holiday in my entire life!" she yelled.

"You should've shoved one down his throat," Johanna replied. "Who the hell made him a food critic?"

"I don't know, but he'll never get the chance to rate my food again, the stuck up bastard."

"Mom," Johanna laughed.

"Well he is! I can take a lot of things, but you don't come into my home and insult my kids or my cooking!"

"What about insulting Dad?" she asked with a laugh.

"Frank can take care of himself," Naomi remarked. "I just can't get over him accusing me of serving store bought rolls; and that Henry didn't like the dressing! He acted like it was going to gag him…I only wish it had."

Jim couldn't help but smile as he settled down on the sofa to quietly watch and listen. Maybe they should've gone to Naomi's for dinner; Johanna could've helped take the Westons down and they would've gotten to finish their meal. In fact the whole conversation had him starving and Johanna hadn't made breakfast, not that he blamed her or expected her to given what she had been through. He could fend for himself when she left.

"I don't know why they bothered to come," Naomi went on. "They barely ate anything; it wasn't good enough for them."

"Do you have leftovers?" Jim asked; "Because I'll eat them."

Naomi smiled warmly. "If I had known you'd want a plate, I would've brought you some, dear. Didn't your mother send you home with leftovers? I always send my kids home with a bag full."

"No; she's not big on that," Jim replied. "I do remember Johanna's bag from last year…I helped her eat some of it; I thought it was great."

Naomi smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I'm sorry it was so terrible for you, Mom," Johanna told her. "I should've been there to help you do battle."

Her mother shook her head. "I did miss you, Bambina; but I know I have to get used to sharing you sometimes. How was your Thanksgiving?"

Johanna took a deep breath and gave her a small smile, "It was…an experience," she remarked. "Isn't that right, Jim?"

"Yeah; it was an experience alright."

"Did something happen?" Naomi asked. "Was she mean to you again?"

"It was nothing," Johanna said. "Come on, let's get going or we won't be there before the doors open."

Naomi glanced at her watch. "You're right; we better get going."

Johanna went to the closet and grabbed her coat and purse and then quickly kissed Jim goodbye. "Be careful, ladies," he told them as he walked them to the door. "I'll stick around here in case you need to call for bail money."

"We appreciate that," Johanna told him with a smile. "I'll see you later."

Jim looked the door behind them and headed for the kitchen. Holidays should be outlawed, he thought to himself…or maybe they should be outlawed for certain families.

---

Later that morning, Johanna and Naomi had already taken one load of sale items to the car and had gone back inside Macy's to hit the upper floors of the store. Naomi broke the silence between them as they rode the escalator. "Are you going to tell me what happened at Jim's parents yesterday?"

Johanna sighed and dug her nails into her arm, wishing the itchiness would subside. She had thought that when she and her mother ditched their coats in the car due to the heat of the store that it would help, but it hadn't…and she was worried that the rest of the remaining hives might act up as well. "Let's just say that Elizabeth still hates me," she answered as they stepped off the escalator.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning she made it clear that I wasn't welcome there…which is why I'll never go back. She barely even let me speak."

"I'm sorry, darling," Naomi said as she took her hand. "I guess it wasn't an ideal first Thanksgiving as a couple for you and Jim."

"Far from it," she remarked; gently pulling her hand away to scratch her arm again. "I didn't have high expectations for having a good time though anyway."

"Honey, what is going on with your arm?" her mother asked as she guided her to an aisle that was empty for the moment. "You've been digging at all morning."

"It's nothing, Mom," Johanna answered; telling herself that she'd have to refrain from scratching no matter how much it itched.

"It isn't nothing," Naomi said, grasping her arm and puling up the sleeve of her shirt despite Johanna trying to stop her. "You're broke out in hives," she exclaimed softly. "What happened? What did you eat? How long have you had this?"

Johanna squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the tears welling up. She hadn't wanted to tell her and now she was going to have to. It seemed like she just couldn't keep a secret from her mother no matter how hard she tried.

"Johanna," her mother said firmly. "Answer me."

"Jim told his mother that I'm allergic to pecans because she always makes pecan pie and he didn't want her to be offended if I turned it down. She didn't believe him so she ground up pecans and put it in the stuffing, the potatoes and the biscuits. I didn't remember what they tasted like…no one seemed to notice it except Jim's grandmother; but by the time she commented on it, I had already eaten half of what I had been served."

Fury made Naomi shake with rage. "Tell me you punched her in the face."

She shook her head. "I took the high road…I didn't want to, but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of a fight or knowing that she had hurt me," she explained, her voice trembling.

"That's understandable," Naomi said; her jaw tight and her blue eyes blazing. "It was smart of you to leave her for me, because I'm going to kill her. You're going to take me to her house, because she's going to get it."

"I can't take you over there," Johanna replied. "I don't want you to go to jail."

"It'll be worth it," she said angrily. "What kind of monster does this?"

"I don't know," her daughter whispered. "Jim blames himself and this morning we had a little bit of a fight because he was driving me crazy about the whole thing and I just want to move past it and forget that it happened but I know that's not likely to happen."

Naomi tried to settle herself for a moment to soothe her daughter but it wasn't easy. Her rage was making her tremble as she pulled her child into a hug. "You and Jim will be okay; you'll get through this. His feelings of guilt are probably making him be overly protective in an attempt to assuage that feeling and it's understandable that it was annoying you this morning when all you wanted to do was get back to normal. I'm sure this argument was more about the stress of the situation than anything about the two of you. It'll be fine; you'll smooth it over…those little stress reliever arguments aren't anything to fear."

"We were listing the ways we annoy each other," Johanna replied, a touch of distress in her voice.

"Bambina, that's perfectly normal for a couple to do. It's a good sign actually; it means you've reached the point of your relationship where you can say whatever you want without much fear. We all have some quirks that annoy our partner; what matters is that you love each other enough to overlook them. Do you love him enough to overlook his habits?"

"Of course I do; I've been doing it all this time."

"And he's been overlooking yours all this time, so see, everything will be fine."

"I hope so," Johanna murmured as she pulled away from her mother. "He didn't want me to go out this morning because the hives haven't cleared up completely."

"We're going to take care of that," Naomi stated as she steered her daughter back to the escalator. "I'm going to take you to my doctor and he'll give you a shot to take care of that."

"I can't just walk into your doctor's office without an appointment."

"Sure you can," Naomi replied. "I've done it several times."

"I'm not even his patient; I don't even have a regular doctor, you know that."

"He treated you and your brother and sister many times when I couldn't get you in with the pediatrician; he'll consider you a patient because you're mine. I dragged your sister in there last month for her sore throat; he doesn't mind; he's wonderful like that."

Johanna sighed; her mother did love her doctor and often sung his praises…to her father's chagrin as he was convinced that she had a crush on him…and sometimes Johanna agreed that her mother did indeed have a crush. "What about the sales?" she asked as they made their way through the throng of people.

"The sales will be on all day; we'll come back once we have you taken care of. I'm not taking no for an answer so you may as well save your breath."

"Yes, Mother," she sighed.

"Good girl," Naomi remarked as they neared the escalator; but before they could reach it, two women nearly ran into them and Johanna cursed as she looked up into the face of Elizabeth Beckett.

"You!" Naomi said as she looked at Elizabeth.

"Get out of my way," Elizabeth spat. "Maude and I have things to get before everything is picked over."

Naomi shook her head. "No; I won't get out of your way. We've got some business to take care of."

"I don't have anything to discuss with you," Elizabeth retorted as she tried to step away but Naomi blocked her path.

"Oh you think so?" Naomi asked as she grabbed Johanna's arm and pulling it upwards to shove in Elizabeth's face. "See these marks on my daughter? They're hives, this is a small sampling of what she's had to endure all night because of you. Now you tell me why you would purposely lace the food with pecans when you were told she has an allergy.

"I figured she was just a picky eater," Elizabeth sniffed; "I cook what the hell I want."

"She's not a picky eater and my daughter wouldn't lie about something so serious. She's always had this allergy; I have it and so does my son…so does my mother. How dare you do something so heinous," she seethed. "Do you know what could've happened to her?"

"She's clearly fine," Jim's mother snapped. "She's out gallivanting around with you."

"She's not fine," Naomi thundered. "What part of 'you could've seriously hurt her' don't you understand?"

"Don't talk to her like that," Maude stated, her haughtiness on par with Elizabeth's making Johanna see why they were friends.

"Lady, if this is the worst she gets, she can count herself blessed," Naomi remarked. "Stay out of it."

"I hope you're happy," Elizabeth stated as she glared at Johanna. "Because of you my son told me he's done with me, my husband went home with his mother and my children and grandchildren abandoned me before the meal was over."

"Me!" Johanna exclaimed. "Don't blame me for this!"

"It is your fault!" Elizabeth bellowed. "You shouldn't have been there!"

"Then you should've told Jim I wasn't welcome there."

"Then he wouldn't have come," his mother exclaimed; "Because he's got to have his head up your ass. This is all your fault; if you were so careful about your supposed allergy, you'd know what a goddamn pecan tastes like, now wouldn't you?"

"Oh my God," Naomi said as she glared at the woman. "Not only are you a bitch; you're a stupid one at that."

"I beg your pardon," Elizabeth exclaimed, her fingers fluttering at her throat.

"No begging necessary," Naomi shot back. "She doesn't remember what a pecan tastes like because she hasn't had them since she was a child…when you're allergic to something, you don't keep eating it, you idiot! Pecans aren't something found in traditional Thanksgiving meals outside of pies!"

Elizabeth smirked. "Well now she knows better, doesn't she?"

Naomi took a menacing step closer. "You listen to me you vindictive, cold hearted bitch; you could've killed her; I don't know what part of your little pea brain doesn't understand that but let me make something perfectly clear to you. If you ever hurt my daughter again, I will kill you," she said seriously. "There is nowhere on God's green earth where you can run that I won't find you and when I do, I'm going to rip you apart with my bare hands and they'll never find what's left of you."

"Are you threatening her?" Maude asked.

"No; I'm making her a very serious promise," Naomi stated. "Now I'm taking my daughter to the doctor so he can give her something to take away the hives she has…and since you're responsible for her condition, I'm having the bill sent to you, Elizabeth."

"I'm not paying her doctor bill!" the woman declared.

"The hell you're not," Johanna's mother stated. "You'll either pay the bill or I'll collect in other ways…like by breaking your fingers so you can't pick up any pecans again…and believe me, when you mess with my kids, I have the power to do anything I desire."

"Am I supposed to be afraid?" Elizabeth sniffed.

Naomi's eyes narrowed. "You better be afraid…you better drag yourself down to that lovely protestant church of yours and pray every day, Elizabeth; pray for mercy and the hand of God to keep you from making another foolish mistake like this, because I'm warning you…you hurt her again in any way and your ass is mine for what my family likes to call a little Italian Justice…and believe me, I don't think you want that."

"We should turn her in to the police," Maude exclaimed; "Making threats like that."

"You better prove she made them," Johanna remarked. "It's you word against ours and our fellow shoppers are too busy with the sale to pay any of us any mind."

"Why don't you just leave Elizabeth's son alone?' Maude asked. "He's too good to be tied up with the lot of you people."

Naomi pinned her with a glare. "I can take you too, just so you know."

"I'm not going to leave her son alone," Johanna replied firmly. "I love him and he loves me. Elizabeth needs to accept that and get over it before her son really does abandon her."

"If Jimmy wants to have the trouble of being tangled up with you, more power to him," Elizabeth declared. "Maybe he deserves it! Now I'm done with the little Italian temper show. I have shopping to do."

"Remember what I said," Naomi told her. "And that bill will be coming to your mailbox. Come along, Johanna; giving her any more of our time would only make her feel special and that's not the kind of treatment you give nutcases like her."

"I'm not a nutcase!"

"Oh no?" Naomi asked; "Then what do you call someone who purposely feeds someone something they're allergic to? A psychopath? An ass? How about a criminal? There are so many words to describe you, Elizabeth; pick one that suits you; perhaps it'll be a comfort to you when you drive your whole family away in your quest to be queen bee. We're going now…and I hope everything you wanted in this store is sold out."

Johanna couldn't help but smile at the remark as Naomi pulled her along to the escalator. "You showed a lot of restraint by not killing her here," she stated.

Her mother gave a nod. "Too many witnesses. I watched Perry Mason, I'm not stupid. But mark my words; the ice she's skating on is cracking…one more misstep from her and she's going to meet my fist."

She smiled as she wrapped an arm around her mother. "I love you."

"I love you too, Bambina; we'll get you taken care of and get back to our shopping. Hopefully we won't run into her again…because I can't promise to keep being restrained. I'm so damn angry."

"I know; but I'm okay…and I won't ever go there again," Johanna told her. "Let's just get this taken care of and enjoy the rest of our day."

---

Later that afternoon, Jim was lounging on Johanna's couch, watching a movie on TV when the door swung open and she and Naomi began dragging in bags.

"Did you buy out every store in New York?" He asked as he watched the pile begin to accumulate.

"No; but it wasn't from lack of trying," Johanna remarked; hoping to warn Jim with a glance as he sat up but Naomi had already pinned him with an angry gaze.

"Young man, from now on when you take my daughter to have dinner with a member of your family, I expect you to taste her food first and verify the contents."

Jim's gaze slid back to Johanna's. "I thought you weren't going to tell her."

She smiled. "I had too, she noticed I kept scratching my arm…and we ran into your mother."

"For God's sake," he exclaimed as he sat up. "What did she do? I swear that woman is a menace to society and as soon I can figure out how to do it legally, I'm having her put away!"

"It wasn't as bad as last night," Johanna remarked.

"I don't think it's possible for anything to be as bad as last night," Jim replied.

"Just what is your mother's problem?" Naomi demanded to know, her foot tapping against the ground, Jim becoming acutely aware of it as he had called Johanna out for it earlier…but with Naomi, she tapped out of anger…Johanna tapped out of nervousness. He pondered that for a moment until Naomi's voice broke through his thoughts. "Well?" she asked. "What is her problem?"

"She's insane," Jim answered without missing a beat. "I didn't realize how much she was affected by insanity until last night."

"I think she needs to see a doctor about it," Naomi remarked. "Maybe a few months at Bellevue in a straight jacket would cure her."

"Sounds good to me," Jim replied. "I'll check in to it."

"Another thing," her mother stated as she pulled a small business card from her purse. "When my daughter needs medical attention, pick her up and drag her out of here screaming if you have to. This is my doctor; he's now also her doctor. Keep that handy in case you need it. I took her to his office today and he gave her a shot to make the hives go away."

"Mother," Johanna chastened.

"I'll keep it in a safe place," Jim promised her. "I did want to take her to the hospital but she didn't want to go. She said she could treat it at home."

"Take her anyway," Naomi demanded. "I'm putting my trust in you, Jim. If you don't take care of her, you'll deal with me, and you don't want that."

"Yeah; just ask your mother," Johanna quipped as she took off her boots.

Jim glanced at Naomi. "Did you hit her?" he asked, failing at keeping the tinge of hopefulness from his voice.

"No; but I warned her that if she ever pulls a stunt like that again she'll face some Italian justice."

"What's that?"

"You don't want to know," Johanna replied.

"Okay," Jim said; figuring he could figure that out on his own. "Did you ladies have a good time?"

"Yes;" Naomi answered. "The sales were good and it's always nice to have some one on one time with my daughter."

"It's nice to spend some alone time with you too," Johanna told her.

"Did you crawl under any sales tables or throw any items?" Jim asked.

"Only at Bloomingdales," her mother responded. "Some old hag was trying to take the shoes I wanted; but we got them."

"And I got the boots I wanted," Johanna added. "I had to crawl and slide them away from someone waiting to try them on, but I got them."

"You didn't!" he exclaimed.

"Oh yeah, I did…normally I wouldn't take it from someone like that but that person dipped in front of us in line and I had to take her down a peg," she replied.

"That's right," Naomi agreed; "She had it coming…and I taught her very well how to grab and dash. It was a proud moment."

Jim nodded. "It's always nice to see a mother and daughter bonding while stealing a pair of boots away from a line dipper."

"This is the official start of the holiday shopping season," Naomi remarked. "It's no time to play nice; it's war out there and you have to have your battle planned and your strategies ready. We know what we're doing."

"I'd never say otherwise," he said with a smile.

Naomi glanced at her watch. "I better be getting home, dear," she told Johanna. "By now your father is drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair, wondering when I'm coming home to fix him a hot turkey sandwich."

"We wouldn't want him to have to do it himself," Johanna replied.

"Oh of course not," her mother quipped; "Then what would he need me for?"

"He'd still need his laundry done."

"That's true," Naomi said as she hugged her daughter and kissed her cheek. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes; the itchiness is gone now."

"Good, next time you go to the doctor!"

"Yes, Mother…but I don't intend for there to be a next time."

Naomi's gaze shifted to Jim. "You remember what I told you…you taste her food next time."

"I promise," he told her sincerely. "It'll never happen again."

She a nod of acknowledgement and said her goodbyes, Johanna locking the door behind her. Jim watched as she shoved the shopping bags into the closet to be dealt with later and then hung up her coat and purse.

"How come your mother can get you to a doctor and I can't?" he asked.

"Because she's my mother and she doesn't take no for an answer," she replied.

"What did she say to my mother?" He questioned; his curiosity getting the best of him.

"That if she ever does it again she'll kill her and they'll never find what's left over her."

"How did my mother take that?"

"She tried to act like she wasn't afraid but I caught a glimmer of it in her eyes," Johanna stated. "She also told me that everything is my fault and she hopes I'm happy that her family abandoned her. Her friend Maude told me I need to leave you alone…my mother told her she could take her too if she needed to."

"I can't stand that Maude," Jim muttered. "I'm sure my mother had the time of her life telling her tale to Maude…Maude always agrees with her."

"Just what she needs, a cheerleader."

"Yeah," he scoffed as he laid back down on the couch, those feelings of guilt creeping back up on him as Johanna headed toward her bedroom. Guilt had kept him company all morning while Johanna had been out…not to mention the extra helping courtesy of their argument that morning. He knew that he had picked the fight…knew it was a product of stress but still, it didn't help when he was thinking of possibly proposing soon. Their first Thanksgiving together had been a disaster…was it some kind of sign? He frowned; he didn't want to think about it anymore.

He turned his attention back to the television, trying to get caught back up on the plot as Johanna walked back through the room wearing the silk nightgown she'd had on the night before. "I guess you're settling in for the day, Sassy," he remarked as she headed to the kitchen.

"That's right," she answered while pouring herself a drink. "I'm in for the rest of the day."

"Good…I missed you."

"I missed you too," Johanna replied as returned to the room and approached the sofa. He started to move to give her room to join him but she placed a hand against his chest, keeping him in place as she straddled his hips. She kissed him before he could utter a word; keeping him silent with kiss after kiss as her fingertips slipped beneath his shirt, slowly skimming against his skin, pushing the material higher as she went.

"What are you doing?" he murmured as she beckoned him to rise enough so that she could pull his shirt off of him.

A sassy gleam sparkled in her eyes as she dropped his white t-shirt to the floor. "You'd think by now that you'd know."

"I know what it is…but it's… unexpected," he couldn't help but say as his hands circled her waist, trying desperately to keep his train of thought as she pushed him back against the pillow and pressed kisses against his skin as her fingertips continued to caress him.

"I'm making both of us feel better," she whispered.

His hand slid softly against her arm, his fingers bumping the band-aid that covered the spot where she had gotten her shot to combat her allergic reaction. "Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked.

"Would I have started it if I wasn't?" Johanna asked.

"You tell me."

She looked him in the eye. "I wouldn't…now do you want to feel better or not?"

Jim gave her a grin, his hands reaching for the hem of her nightgown, and slipping it off of her in one swift movement. "I definitely want to feel better."

"That's what I thought," she murmured with a smile before capturing his lips in another kiss.

---

Later on after they had abandoned the couch for the comfort of her bed, Johanna brushed her fingertips against Jim's chest and kissed him before tapping his nose in an attempt to wake him. He stirred, his arm pulling her closer, his lips seeking hers even before his tired eyes were open. She allowed his kiss and then gently pulled away.

"Why did you wake me up if you were going to leave me?" he muttered.

"I'm not leaving," she replied as she pulled the covers around her more tightly. "I just wanted to talk."

Jim shook his head. "I'd rather go back to making each other feel better."

"I thought we did feel better," she said with a soft laugh.

"We do…but maybe we can feel even better than we do now."

"That's what I wanted to discuss," Johanna remarked.

"No need for discussion," Jim replied as he reached for her. "I know how to handle this."

"That's not what I meant."

He sighed. "What is it?"

"I know it's my weekend to stay with you at your place, but would you mind staying here?"

"No; that's fine; we've been here most of the week anyway," Jim told her. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'm going to make our first Thanksgiving together better than what we've had."

Jim reached out and tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "Sweetheart, you can't un-ring a bell."

"I can't make the original better…but we can have a do-over tomorrow."

"A do-over?"

Johanna nodded. "You know, I had already bought everything I needed to make my own Thanksgiving dinner…and I can't let that food go to waste, especially that turkey. So I'm thinking that if we stay here, then tomorrow, I'll cook a Thanksgiving dinner and we'll have a do-over of our holiday…just the two of us. What do you think?"

"It sounds nice…but do you want to go through all that trouble?"

"It's not trouble to give us a better memory," she told him as she laced her fingers with his. "But if you don't like the idea, we don't have to."

He saw the glimmer of disappointment in her eyes and knew that he couldn't deny her the chance to try and turn things around…and she did have all of those groceries that shouldn't go to waste. He gave her a smile. "I like the idea, sweetheart; I think it sounds good…it'll be nice having it just be the two of us."

"I thought so too," she murmured as she cuddled back into his side, her head resting on his chest. "Last night doesn't matter; tomorrow will be the Thanksgiving that counts."

"I'm all for that," Jim stated, pressing a kiss to her hair. "I'm sure it's going to be way better than the one we had."

She nodded against his chest. "That's right….no relatives."

"And no pecans," he added.

"Right; we can't go wrong," Johanna said with a soft laugh.

"I'm looking forward to it," Jim remarked, his hand squeezing her waist gently.

"Good," she said softly. "I am too."

His hand moved, his fingers sinking into her hair. "When did you come up with this idea?"

"At the doctor's office," she replied. "I was thinking about how bad it was and how bad you feel…and I didn't want our only memories of our first holiday as a couple to be nothing but bad ones. I remembered that the turkey was already thawing out, it has to get used, so I figured why not have a do over and make it better?"

Jim was quiet for a moment, thinking about how she always tried to make him feel better when something was wrong. He didn't think that he'd ever stop feeling guilty for what his mother had done…but he'd try to let it go so that her do-over Thanksgiving would be as good as she wanted it to be. He figured he should be the one trying to make things better; after all, it was his family that had caused the distress. Jim thought about that one errand he did slip out to run while Johanna was with her mother. He had taken advantage of a sale at a jewelry store where he'd been eyeing an engagement ring. It had still been there…as if it had been sitting there waiting on him despite his ponderings about whether it was too soon or not.

He bought it…a 3 carat emerald cut diamond engagement ring. His stomach still knotted a little when he thought about the amount he had written on the check. It was a beautiful ring and it had cost him a pretty penny…a lot of pretty pennies, he mused. She was worth the expense, he didn't doubt that and he was glad that he could afford to buy her the type of ring he felt she deserved…but he still had all of those thoughts in his head. He had silenced them until his mother's stunt the night before…and yet a little voice reminded him that he had still bought the ring despite what had happened. He sighed as he thought of that little black velvet box that was hidden in his dresser at his apartment. The question now would probably be when to give it to her…it couldn't be during their do over holiday; that was a little too soon…but he didn't want to wait too long either. Why did this suddenly have to be so complicated?

"Hey," Johanna murmured as she shifted to her side and rose up on her elbow. "What are you thinking so hard about?"

"What makes you think I'm thinking hard?"

She smiled, her fingertips sweeping across his brow. "I know your 'thinking hard' expression."

He captured her fingers and pressed a kiss to them. "I was just thinking about how much I love you," he murmured.

The warmth and love that radiated from her gaze nearly overwhelmed him as she captured his lips in a slow, tender kiss. "I love you too…more than you can imagine," she whispered.

He drew her back for another kiss; it was moments like this when he didn't have any nagging doubts at all. The phone rang, breaking through the silence and jarring them from the passionate tension that was slowly building. He blew out a breath, it never seemed to miss. Johanna smiled as she leaned across him and pulled the cord out of the back of the phone. "They'll call back," she said softly, the phone in the living room still ringing in the distance but more easily ignored.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his hand moving over her bare back.

Johanna grinned at him. "I don't care if they call back or not…I have better things to do at the moment."

"I can't argue with that," he replied. "We'll consider this part of our holiday do-over…we're setting the tone."

"Exactly," she giggled. "We can't allow any interruptions. This time it's going to be just right."

---

The clock read 5 a.m. when Jim rolled over, his arm reaching for the warm figure he knew he had fallen asleep with, the desire to pull her close and cuddle her driving him across the bed. His hand found emptiness and he frowned, his eyes still closed as he ran his hand across the mattress once more. He cracked an eye open and found the bed empty as the evidence suggested. "Jo," he murmured sleepily into the darkness. She didn't answer and he reluctantly pushed himself upward, abandoning the nest of warm blankets to stumble in the darkness toward the door. He walked into the slightly ajar door as he rubbed his eye but it didn't have much affect on his still sleep drenched mind.

"Jo," he said quietly as he padded up the hallway. Light spilling from the kitchen lit up the far end of the living room and Jim made his way toward it, squinting against it as he reached the threshold.

He finally found the object of his affection gently putting a pie crust into a pie pan. "Sweetheart, what are you doing?" he asked.

His voice startled her and she nearly poked her fingernail through the dough but she recovered quickly and avoided the catastrophe. "I'm making a pie," she answered.

"At 5am?"

"If you want dessert tonight, then yes I am."

"What kind are you making?"

"Apple," she replied as she picked up the bowl of apples that she needed to peel and core.

Jim gave a tired nod as he sat down at the table, his eyes watching her as she finished pressing the dough into place in the pan. Johanna then sat down across from him and picked up the peeler and began working on the apples. "There's another piece of dough on the counter," Jim remarked as his gaze landed upon it.

Johanna gave him an amused smile. "That's the piece that will go on top of the pie, honey."

He chuckled quietly. "My brain's not awake yet."

"No it isn't," she agreed with a soft laugh. "But you're adorable when you're sleepy."

Jim smiled. "You too."

"Why are you up?" she asked.

"I rolled over to hold you and you weren't there."

A soft smile touched her lips. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he answered. "I do it all the time at my place when you're not there."

"I know the feeling," Johanna murmured. "When you're not here, I always wake up when I roll over to cuddle up to you and you're not there."

"It's disappointing, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it is…I miss you when you're not here."

A touch of amusement touched his eyes. "Even when you're the one who won't let me come in after a dinner date because you need to concentrate on finishing your work?"

"Yes," she said with a laugh. "Maybe even more so then…but in all fairness, you've done the same thing to me."

"I know…and I always regret it."

"I guess we could always just occupy separate rooms when we need to work," she suggested; "And promise not to tempt each other until we're finished."

Jim gave a nod. "I can agree to that."

"Me too…we'll give that a try next time."

"Good…it doesn't solve the entire problem though…those nights when we miss each other just because we're in our separate homes without a work excuse."

"I know," Johanna said softly. "I guess the only solution for that would be to move in together."

The comment jolted some of his brain cells awake…maybe this was a good topic to see through considering that there was a ring hidden in his drawer at his apartment…maybe the answers would help him shoo away those few little thoughts of 'too soon'. "Would you want to live with me?" he asked.

"Honey; I do kind of live with you in some ways," she said, picking up a piece of an apple she had sliced and popping it into her mouth.

"I guess that's true in a manner of speaking…I have been here since Wednesday night and now it's Saturday," Jim remarked.

"Yeah…but I like it…just like I like it when I spend a few days with you."

"But would you want to…spend every day with me?" he asked somewhat hesitantly.

Her eyes glimmered with love, affection and amusement. "Silly boy; shouldn't you know the answer to that? Of course I want to spend every day with you."

"But you mentioned moving in together…is that something you'd want to do or consider?"

Her foot taped against the floor once but she noticed and stopped herself. "I've thought about it," she admitted softly.

"In what way?"

Johanna tapped her foot once more but she stopped herself again, forcing herself to keep her feet still. "In the way of…well…I mean…I," she stammered.

"I'm not going to be mad about whatever your answer is," Jim told her. "You don't have to be nervous…you don't have to keep from tapping your foot either."

She took a deep breath and picked up another apple to peel and slice. "I've thought about us living together," she admitted. "I mean we've talked about some things that seem to imply that we plan on being together for a long time."

He gave her a smile. "The baby stuff?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod.

"It made you think about it."

"Yes…but I'm not holding you to it," she said hurriedly. "We were probably caught up in the moment, I'm not, you know, pressuring for anything more, we're fine. If that would happen one day we'd work it out whichever way you wanted, I…"

"Jo," he said, forcing her to stop her rambling.

"What?"

"You did keep those booties, didn't you?"

"Of course I did; they're hidden on the closet shelf."

He met her eye and held her gaze. "I wouldn't have asked you to keep them if I didn't mean to keep my word."

"It's something I've thought about," she murmured; giving his hand a quick squeeze. "I'm not saying it's something we should do next week…but I guess I can see us getting to the point one day where we'd want to move in together…cut out those nights when we have to miss each other. Have you ever thought about it?"

"Yes," he replied.

"For it or against it?" she asked.

Jim gave her a look. "I think you probably know that I'd never be against it."

"Then maybe it's something we'll keep in mind."

He smiled. "I think that's a good idea…but there are some people who would frown on us living together and not being married."

"It's none of their business," Johanna remarked.

"True; it isn't most people's business…but what would your mother think?"

"I think given what she unfortunately knows about our sex life that it wouldn't really surprise her. She knows we stay with each other…after all she did see you in my apartment at 6:30 yesterday morning; and thanks to your mother, she's knows there's drawers full of my stuff at your place. She might ask if I'm sure about it given how some people would think about that choice but she wouldn't say too much…Mom would probably keep any doubts she had about it to herself due to what she already knows."

"Do you think she'd be unhappy with it?"

"Do you mean do I think she'd rather us be married? Yeah; she'd rather us be married but she'd get used to it…the real problem would be my father."

"He'd have a problem with it?"

"A major one," Johanna laughed. "If he had any inkling that we were living together in any way, he'd hit the roof."

"That's understandable though; you're his daughter; I figure no man wants his daughter living with some guy she isn't married to."

"True…what about your father; what would he think of it?"

"Dad's pretty laid back," Jim said; "But I think he'd give me that look of his that he has when I do something he isn't crazy about and then he'd give me a talk about the benefits of marriage."

She laughed softly. "I guess we come from old fashioned parents, Jim."

'We do," he agreed. "My mother would probably need to be hospitalized."

"I'd probably put that on the 'pro' side of my pros and cons list," Johanna admitted.

"I don't blame you," he laughed.

Johanna caught his gaze. "So the question is, would their opinions stop us if it was something we decided we wanted to do?"

Jim shook his head. "It wouldn't stop me…would it stop you?"

"No; it's my life, my business…they're not living with us."

"Thank God," he muttered.

"Yeah; if they were, you'd have to taste my food every night," she said with a laugh.

"I'm glad you can laugh about it," Jim commented; "But I'm not there yet."

"I'm sorry," Johanna murmured.

"You don't need to be sorry," he told her. "I know you just want to get back to normal and put it behind you…and sometimes laughing about it in a small way helps to accomplish that but you might have to give me a few more days."

"Deal."

He was quiet as he watched her carry the apples to the stove where she had a skillet on the burner and two small bowls containing the sugar and spices she would need sitting close by. She poured the apples and the contents of the bowls into the skillet. "Why are you cooking the apples?" he asked.

"Because you're supposed to," Johanna answered; giving him a puzzled look.

"My mother never does that."

She grinned. "I'm not your mother."

"Another reason to be thankful," he quipped. "But why cook them when they're going in the oven inside the pie crust?"

"Because this brings out the flavors better. Mom says it also makes a more sturdy pie filling because with the apples already cooked down, it won't leave any gaps between the filling and the crust; the pie holds together better."

"Makes sense," he replied. "Do you know how to make pumpkin pie?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you make one of those?"

"Because I don't like pumpkin pie," Johanna replied. "But I will make you one when I do my Christmas baking."

"You don't like pumpkin pie!" he exclaimed.

"No," she smiled. "I never have. My mother has made me try it a hundred times and I just do not like it at all. It's my father's favorite…my dislike of it makes him wonder if I'm really related to him."

"I can't believe you don't like it," Jim replied.

"I don't; I hate it. I like apple, cherry, coconut cream and lemon meringue," she told him.

"Can you make you make the coconut cream?"

"Yes; I can also make the lemon one…your grandmother is supposed to teach me how to make the cherry pie."

"She will," he told her. "You can count on it."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Jim tried to stifle a yawn but failed, making Johanna smile as she crossed the room to where he sat. Her fingertips caressed the line of his jaw before she stole a quick kiss. "Why don't you get the newspaper for me and then go back to bed."

"I'd rather we both go back to bed."

"I know, but I have to get this pie done before the turkey needs to go in the oven in a little while. Go on, I won't be mad if you go back to sleep, it's early."

"Are you sure you don't need me here to do something?"

"I've got it under control," she told him. "Go ahead."

He gave a nod. "I'll get the paper for you and then I think I will go back to sleep for a little while. Can we have pie for breakfast when I get up?"

"No," she answered. "It's for dessert; we'll have scrambled eggs and toast."

"That's not as good as pie."

"Good things come to those who wait," Johanna remarked.

"You're right," he told her; thinking about the ring he had bought. "We have experience in that area."

"And it's always worth it, isn't it?" she asked.

"Absolutely," he stated. "Our moments of waiting are always worth it and rewarded."

Johanna smiled. "That's right…and if I have time between getting the pie done and the turkey preparations, I'll come back to bed for awhile."

Jim kissed her. "Make time, sweetheart; even if it's just for an hour."

"I promise," she murmured before giving him a nudge in the direction of the doorway. He left her alone in the kitchen reluctantly but he knew she'd keep her promise; she'd slip in beside him in a little while.

---

Jim once again made the trek to the kitchen later that morning, rubbing his eye as he went. "I thought you were coming back to bed," he said as he spotted Johanna at the counter prepping the turkey to go into the oven.

"I did; I came back to bed at 7:00, cuddled up to you and stayed there until 10:30…you didn't even notice," she told him.

"That's because I was doing this thing called sleeping…and I'm not sure I'm convinced that you came back…I usually feel you sucking the heat out of my body as you wrap yourself around my back."

"I assure you that I was wrapped around you as usual; you were just too far gone to notice, Mr. just crawled out of bed at 11:30," she teased. "How does it look?"

"Smaller than I'm used to," Jim stated honestly. "What is that, ten pounds?"

"Thirteen," she replied. "I got a smaller turkey because I knew I wasn't feeding an army. It'll be plenty for us."

"You forgot to put water in the pan," he commented as she opened the oven door and pulled the rack out to sit the pan on.

"No, I didn't," Johanna said; "Mom always sits it on the rack before she adds water to the pan, then it isn't as heavy to lift."

"Oh," he murmured, watching as she filled the measuring cup with water a few times and poured it into the pan. "But where's the stuffing?"

"In my family, we cook the dressing on the stove," she answered while pushing the rack back into place and closing the door, her hand reaching for the knob on the stove to set the timer.

"Why?"

Johanna smiled. "Did you wake up with twenty questions on your mind?"

He grinned, his hand rubbing against his stubbly jaw. "Maybe I did; what are you going to do about it?"

"I guess I'm going to tell you what my mother always told my grandfather about why she cooks dressing instead of stuffing."

"Go ahead, I'm ready."

"My mother always says that she's not having her hand up a turkey's ass for any longer than she has to. Once she runs the water through it to clean it, she's done. We eat dressing."

Jim gave a nod. "That's a logical explanation; I'm sure it'll be just as good."

"I hope so," she murmured, a touch of nerves filling her. This was the first holiday meal she'd cook for him…she couldn't blow it. The original Thanksgiving had already been a bust; she didn't need to tank it further. This had to go perfectly…everything had to be just right.

"I'm sure it's going to be wonderful," Jim whispered in her ear as his arm slipped around her.

She pressed a kiss to his lips, her fingertips grazing his jaw. "You need to shave."

"Later," he chuckled. "I haven't even read the paper yet…nor have I had breakfast…are we going to get a start on that?"

"And by 'we' you really mean me, right?" she asked lightly.

"Of course; I wouldn't dare interfere in your domain here."

"It's going to be a quick breakfast…which is more like lunch at this point; just eggs and toast like I told you earlier; I'm not frying bacon, I'm not cooking sausage, I'm not making pancakes or waffles. You're going to have to eat light this morning; I have a ton of things to do."

Jim nodded. "Starving me until the main event; that's clever."

"I thought so," Johanna teased, swatting him with the dish towel that she had wiped her hands on.

"It's still early," he commented as he grabbed the newspaper from the counter. "What do you have to do already that can't wait?"

"I have to get the dough made for the rolls."

"You're making homemade rolls?"

"Yes; my mother told me you don't serve store bought on a holiday…didn't you hear her going on about David Weston saying her rolls were store bought when they weren't?"

"Yeah; I do remember that…but do they need made this early?"

"Yes; it takes time to get it made just right and then the dough has to rise for at least an hour."

"You're the boss, sweetheart."

"Don't you forget it, handsome."

Jim smiled. "You say that and yet you demanded that I shave."

"Just because you're handsome either way doesn't mean that you don't need to shave," Johanna remarked as she began preparing breakfast. "I like seeing all of your handsome face, not just half of it."

"Well when you put it like that I guess I'll shave later; I don't want my girl being deprived."

"Especially when she's your chef, right?"

"Exactly. You know me so well," he remarked.

Jim read the paper as Johanna made his breakfast and then he watched as she washed up the dishes that were already beginning to fill the sink from her pie making, turkey prep and breakfast making. He smiled, watching as she wiped down surfaces and gathered her ingredients to begin making the dough for the rolls.

"How old were you when you started learning how to do this?" he asked, his gaze on her fingers as she flipped through a handwritten recipe book.

Johanna glanced at him. "I don't ever remember a time when I wasn't in the kitchen with my mother learning how to make things."

"Really?"

She nodded. "When Frankie started school, I was three and Colleen was a year old; when she was down for her naps, I was with Mom…she always had some little thing I could do to 'help', like handing her a spoon or the butter or whatever she could think of. I always helped her make the Christmas cookies and the fudge; I was always there, watching her and helping her make pies, cakes, turnovers…every day meals. It wasn't something that was ever thought about…I was just always with Mom when she was in the kitchen. Colleen never really had any interest in it, but I liked it, I still do…it's a good way to work off my stress and aggravation at times."

"I've noticed," he replied. "What's your earliest memory of cooking with your mom?"

Johanna thought about it for a moment as she continued her task. "I was three and I was miserable," she stated.

"Why?"

"My sister had bit me…Colleen was a biter…she didn't quit until she was about four; despite getting her mouth smacked every time she did it; but anyway, she had bit me and Mom smacked her mouth and put her to bed to cry herself to sleep for her nap. I was crying and she was cuddling me and told me that we needed cookies to feel better. We didn't have any so we had to make them. My job was to hand her things…and she let me help her spoon out the dough onto the pan."

"Why did your sister bite you?"

Johanna shrugged. "I don't remember…it didn't seem to take much to make Colleen bite you. I love her but Frankie's right; she's been a bitch since birth."

He chuckled quietly. "I don't remember Madelyn ever spending much time with Mom in the kitchen voluntarily. She made us all learn a few things but it was a mandatory thing."

"I can't say that I'm surprised," Johanna remarked. "Elizabeth doesn't seem like the 'share my kitchen' type. She doesn't have the patience."

"That's the truth."

"How old were you when you started helping Robert work on the car?" she asked; figuring she may as well play twenty questions too.

"Like you, I don't ever remember a time when I wasn't there helping him work on things; all of us boys were always out in the garage or the yard with him."

"I bet you were adorable handing him his tools," she commented lovingly.

Jim smiled. "And I bet you were adorable standing on a chair, covered in flour while you helped bake things."

"Mom has a few pictures of me standing on the chair next to her," Johanna laughed.

"I want to see them."

"I'll see if I can sneak them out of the house one day," she promised. "You still haven't shaved."

"I'll get around to it."

She arched a brow at him. "Do you want me to do it for you?"

"Like they do at the barber shop?"

"No…you don't have one of those razors; but I'll use the one you've got."

Jim pondered that for a moment. "I think I'll do it myself."

"Don't trust me?" she asked with a grin.

"It's not that I don't trust you," he said slowly. "It's just not the same as when you're shaving your legs…I mean you cut your leg, you'll be fine…with me, you could cut my throat."

"I highly doubt that I'd make a mistake of that magnitude," she laughed.

"But why chance it on our do-over Thanksgiving?" he grinned.

Johanna grinned. "Good point; you go shave by yourself while I tend to this and then I can take a break before I need to peel the potatoes."

"What are we going to do during your break?" he asked suggestively.

"Probably not what you're hoping."

"Then why am I shaving?"

"Because you love me," she said saucily; "And because it's a special occasion."

"Does that mean you're wearing special occasion underwear?"

Johanna rolled her eyes. "Is my underwear all you think about?"

"No; I think about the rest of your clothes too…you look cute in your little pink t-shirt," he said with a nod at her top.

She laughed as she shook her head at his teasing tone. "Go shave before you get in trouble."

"Alright," he replied; "But this isn't over; special occasions mean that certain expectations are held and we're going to see that they're met."

"Uh huh; let me get through dinner first."

"Such a stickler for that dinner first rule," he quipped.

"You wouldn't want me any other way."

"I don't know about that…"

She grinned at him and flicked some flour in his direction. "Sometimes it's more fun if it's a challenge."

"Challenge accepted, sweetheart," he said as he stole a kiss and gave her a gentle swat on her backside. "Holidays are looking brighter around here."

Johanna smiled as she watched him leave the kitchen; maybe she could pull this off after all.

---

"Is there anything I can do?" Jim asked as he drifted into the kitchen late that afternoon.

Johanna straightened the table cloth she had just put on the table. "You can hand me the plates," she said, gesturing to the stack on the counter.

He did as she asked and stood by quietly watching as she set the table. "Anything else?" he asked.

"You can pour the drinks while I get the silverware."

Jim went about his task; his gaze discreetly watching her as she laid out the silverware and put down napkins. There was something perfect about the two of them sharing a belated holiday. The day so far had been nice and cozy and he enjoyed watching her flit around the kitchen making sure everything was up to her standards. It was a nice feeling of contentment after the way the last few days had gone…he had felt the weight on his shoulders slowly evaporating all day as he had watched, assisted, or merely kept her company as she worked on their meal.

"Is the turkey ready?" he asked, catching her eye as she glanced at him.

"The timer has a few more minutes. By the time I have the potatoes done; it'll be time to take it out of the oven."

"Do you want me to do anything?"

"Not yet," she replied as took on the task of finishing the mashed potatoes. She put the lid on the pot when she was finished and turned the burner down to keep them warm. She checked the corn and the dressing and then grabbed the pot holders and opened the oven door. She smiled at the sight of her nicely roasted turkey.

"That smells good," Jim commented as she lifted the pan from the oven and sat it on the counter.

"I hope it tastes as good as it looks," she remarked as he closed the oven door for her.

"I'm sure it will, sweetheart. What next?"

"I have to make the gravy," she replied; making sure that the skillet she had sat on the burner several minutes before was warming up. She grabbed a bowl and began to mix up the thickening for the gravy.

"Aren't you supposed to do that in the skillet?" Jim asked.

Johanna shook her head. "If you do it this way; it's easier to keep the flour from getting lumpy. You can make it nice and smooth, see," she said, showing him the mixture in the bowl.

He gave a nod and she sat the bowl aside and grabbed a ladle and a small pot. "Now I have to take some of the drippings from the turkey," she explained and when she finished putting some of the broth into the pan, she gave it to him to hold. She then picked up the bowl again and scrapped the contents into the skillet and then took back the pot and ladled in some of the turkey drippings. "Hold this and stay here," she told Jim was she grabbed the whisk. "I might need to add more once I get this mixed up."

"Alright," he replied; watching as she rapidly mixed the contents of the skillet.

"Put a little more in the skillet for me," she requested; pausing her whisking for a moment to allow him to do so. She whisked for a minute more, added some salt and pepper and then grabbed a teaspoon from the counter. "Taste test," she announced.

Johanna dipped the spoon into the gravy and blew on it to cool it and then she tasted it. She kept her opinion to herself as she got another spoonful. She blew on it and then held it up for Jim to taste.

"God that's good," he remarked.

Her eyes lit up. "Really?"

He nodded. "I thought only Grandma could make turkey gravy that good."

A happy giggle slipped from her lips as he pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. "I'm so glad you like it. I've never made turkey gravy without my mother before. I was so worried I'd get it wrong."

"It couldn't be any better," he assured. "You did your mother proud."

She couldn't resist indulging in a quick hug. He smiled at the quick embrace; he'd barely gotten an arm around her before she slipped away and started putting the corn, dressing and potatoes in bowls for the table. She poured the gravy into the gravy boat and then turned to him. "Do you want to do the honors with the turkey?" she asked as she picked up the knife and a fork.

"Absolutely," he replied; taking the carving knife and fork from her hand. "Bring your plate over. Do you want white meat or dark?"

"I like the white meat," she answered. "At home everyone else can fight over the legs; I'm not interested in them."

Jim grinned. "Good, I like those as leftovers."

"They're all yours, honey," she replied with a laugh as he cut into the turkey. "You're good at carving; you did that so nicely. Sometimes Dad looks like he's ripping the thing apart."

"My father made as all learn how to do this," he told her as he laid some turkey on her plate.

"He taught you well," she said proudly.

Jim gave a nod; amusement in his eyes. "And Naomi taught you well in the art of gravy making."

"Thank you," she smiled. "I have enough for now. Let me get your plate."

She put her plate on the table and grabbed his and he put a portion on it and then took it from her hands. They sat down and served themselves from the bowls of food she had placed in the center of the table. When their plates were full, Johanna picked up her glass and motioned for Jim to do the same. "To our first Thanksgiving together," she announced.

Jim smiled warmly as he clinked his glass against hers. "And to many more to come."

"I'll drink to that," she smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Please try the turkey now so I can relax for the rest of the meal," Johanna said with a sheepish smile.

Jim tried the turkey and glanced across the table at her. "You can stop worrying; it's perfect, sweetheart."

Relief filled her. "I'm so glad," she said as she picked up her fork. "I've never done this without Mom…I was a little nervous."

"You didn't show it."

"Oh it was there," she replied. "I just didn't want to worry you by showing it too much. You might've been nervous about trying it."

He chucked lightly as he tried his potatoes. "Why were you so worried? You're a great cook, you know that."

Johanna met his gaze. "Because it's the first holiday meal I've made for you…I want it to be perfect. I want you to love it."

Jim reached across the table and took her hand. "I do love it; it's wonderful."

"You've only taken one bite," she replied; "It's probably too early to be wonderful."

He shook his head. "The whole day has been wonderful…I like watching you in the court room…and I like watching you in the kitchen; it's like two sides of a coin."

"What do you mean?"

"It's the same level of concentration in both places," he began; "But in court you're very controlled, you mask what you're thinking or feeling and yet have an intensity about you that channels itself in different ways; softness with witnesses who've been through traumas or are fearful; sharp and fierce when wrangling with a person who's trying to skirt the questions and pull the wool over someone's eyes…cautious and on point with someone who's playing both sides of the field. You're guard is never down; but that's a good thing."

"I wouldn't last long in the business if I let my guard down," she commented, giving his foot a bump with hers to let him know that she had no issue with what he had said.

"No you wouldn't; but in the kitchen, you still have the focus and the intensity but it's different…it's calmer and softer; you're not on guard, you're not thinking ten steps ahead to say in charge of the game; you just go with it and if something isn't quit right, you make it into something else or throw it out and start over. I guess what I'm saying is that it's a more relaxed version of your courtroom persona."

"Cooking does relax me," Johanna agreed. "I feel the same way about you when I see you fixing something; same focus but different energy. How's the dressing?" she asked, unable to suppress her nerves about that item any longer.

Jim smiled. "It's good, sweetheart; I just ate some; you really have nothing to worry about."

"But you've probably never had it cooked on the stove…you're used to stuffing."

"I like it," he told her. "Trust me; I couldn't be any happier with the food on this table…this is the holiday of eating and you're my favorite chef; there's nothing wrong here."

"I'm glad to hear that," she murmured with a smile before a comfortable silence fell between them as they ate.

The plates were nearly empty when Johanna recalled something she had meant to tell Jim. "I forgot to tell you something," she stated.

"Thank you for shaving?" he asked with a grin. "All that fuss you made about it and I haven't heard a word of gratitude."

She laughed. "I do thank you for shaving but I thought the kiss I gave you when you came back to the kitchen would've said it all."

"Well now you know better," he quipped. "What did you forget to tell me?"

"My mother had my doctor bill sent to your mother."

Jim almost choked on the gravy soaked roll he had taken a bite of. "She didn't!"

"She did," Johanna said with a nod. "She told her at Macy's that she was going to send it to her. Your mother told her that she wasn't paying it but Mom sent it to her anyway."

"I'd love to see the look on her face when she gets that out of the mailbox," he remarked with a short laugh. "I can just imagine the steam coming off her ears."

'I'm sure she'll call me and my mother every name in the book," she replied. "But while my mother was flirting with her doctor while saying goodbye; I told the receptionist that I'd be in this coming week to pay the bill. I didn't want to do it in front of my mother."

"You're not paying it," Jim stated as he picked up a forkful of potatoes that was left on his plate.

"Of course I am; it's my bill."

"No; it's my mother's bill," he declared. "She caused it, she can pay for it. I'll let Dad know it's coming; he'll stand over her while she writes the check. It'll be taken care of, don't worry."

"She'll really hate me if Robert makes her pay the bill. I can just imagine what she'd say."

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart; her opinions don't matter. Now tell me about your mother flirting with her doctor; that doesn't seem like something Naomi would do."

Johanna scoffed. "Please my mother isn't afraid to put a little extra sugar in her voice and bat her eyes if it'll get her a better cut of meat from the butcher or a discount on the dry cleaning. As for her doctor; she's always had a massive crush on him although she denies it…but we've all seen it."

Jim chuckled. "What does your Dad think about this?"

"Oh he gets positively infuriated when she has an appointment. He's convinced that if Doctor Shane Tucker made a play for her that she'd go willingly. He really can't stand it when she calls him Shane…as the doctor told her she could."

Jim's brow rose. "Does the doctor have a crush on your mother?"

Johanna laughed softly. "Judging from what I saw today, I'd say he does."

"Do you agree with your father's assessment?"

"No; Mom would never run off with Doctor Tucker; not while she was married anyway…now if she and Dad were divorced, I'd have no doubt that she'd bring him home and introduce him as our new daddy."

He chuckled. "Really?"

"Definitely; she's a giggly little school girl around him…it's kind of cute, actually," she remarked. "It's not often we see that side of her…she doesn't get that kind of giggly for Dad…of course she's lived him for a long time, I can't say that I blame her…and I think part of her attraction to the medical Don Juan is that he flirts back, makes her feel special for a few minutes…maybe makes her feel younger and prettier…Dad's not good in that department. He does get livid though when she's gushing about her latest appointment; going on and on about how kind he is, how gentle, his wonderful conversation skills. Dad can't stand it…I think half the time she baits him with the praises, wanting to get a rise out of him, and he always takes the bait. I almost fell off the couch the day he asked her if the doctor ever touched her inappropriately."

Jim had to spit his drink back into his cup as he shook with laughter. "He asked her that in front of you!?"

"That's the thing about my father, Jim; he doesn't give a damn what he says, when he says it, and who's there to hear it."

"What did your mother say?" he asked as he continued to laugh.

"She turned about three shades of red and said of course not…but I have a feeling if he did, she'd never tell…not that I think she'd allow it…but you know, in case I'm wrong, I'd say she'd keep that little memory tucked away."

"Is this doctor older or younger than her; what's he look like?"

"About the same age as her, handsome and distinguished looking" Johanna replied. "He's been divorced for a long time too…Mom just couldn't believe that someone would dump such a wonderful man."

"Did his marriage break up over him being overly friendly with his patients?" Jim asked.

"I wouldn't rule it out…I'm sure Mom isn't his only fifty something female patient that he has swooning."

"I wouldn't tell her that."

"Oh of course not," Johanna replied. "I wouldn't dare shatter her illusions; she has a right to daydream…if I lived with Dad for as long as she has, I'd need to daydream constantly as I drank down a bottle of whatever was handy."

"You're family is exciting, Jo," he commented.

"Not really; we're just louder about our level of crazy than some people. We don't try to hide it, we just put it out there," she stated.

"Maybe it's better that way," Jim said as he scooped up his last bite of food. "Maybe it's what makes your family smooth running for the most part…unlike mine where the animosity can get pretty damn high…and pretty quickly too."

"Maybe," she agreed. "It's healthier to let it out."

"True; but at the moment I'm more interested in putting more on this plate," Jim told her. "Are there any more potatoes?"

"Yes," she said as she rose from the table to fetch them from their warming spot on the stove.

"I'll take more gravy too," he announced.

"I'm so shocked by that," she teased as she spooned the potatoes onto the plate.

He laughed quietly. "You may as well put some more turkey on my plate too."

"Why don't you just say, fill it up for round two?"

"Because you're smart enough to figure it out," he replied; "But if you insist, load it up for the second helping round; I'm ready."

Johanna refilled his plate and his drink and then sat back down across from him. "I guess it must be good."

"It's perfect."

"So our do-over Thanksgiving is a success?"

Jim reached for her hand and held it. "It's a smashing success…and it's the only Thanksgiving that counts this year."

A smile touched her lips and she bumped his foot with hers. She had managed to turn it around; she couldn't help but feel proud…now all she had to worry about was making it through the Christmas season.

---

That evening after the leftovers had been cleared away and the dishes washed, Jim and Johanna were curled up together on the sofa watching TV. Johanna snuggled into his side, her fingers curling around the material of his t-shirt as she felt a wave of sleepiness wash over her. Her first Thanksgiving meal without her mother's supervision was a success; Jim had eaten seconds plus a slice of pie; there couldn't be any better compliment than that. Everything had gone just right and she couldn't be happier in that moment. She'd like to stay in that warm little bubble with him forever. She breathed deeply; taking in the scent unique to him along with the scent of his cologne. She loved these quiet moments when she could be curled into his side; his scent filling her senses, his heartbeat close to her ear as his fingers threaded through her hair.

"Jo," he murmured.

"Hmm?"

"I really liked our belated Thanksgiving."

"Me too, honey. It was perfect."

"It was," he agreed. "You had a good idea."

"As always," she teased.

Jim smiled and pressed a kiss against her head. "It's always so nice when you can say I told you so in so many different ways."

"I am quite talented," Johanna laughed.

He tickled her side, making her squirm and giggle. "I have some talents of my own," he remarked.

"Oh I know," she replied, her eyes sparkling as she met his gaze.

"Can I make a suggestion?" he asked.

"About talents?"

"No," he chuckled. "About holidays."

"What is it?"

"I was thinking that maybe we could do this same thing for Christmas…have our own Christmas dinner, just the two of us like we did today?"

"Really?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod; "If you want to."

A smile broke across her lips. "I'd love to. Christmas is on a Saturday…we could have our dinner together the next day. Or we could do it the weekend before if you want. Whichever you prefer."

"We'll work out when it's best to do it when it gets closer," he replied. "I just wanted to put the idea out there…because I really liked this."

"So did I," she murmured before capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. "What do you want me to make?"

"How about ham?"

"Sounds good," she replied. "Then we can see if I can manage that on my own without my mother's supervision."

Jim laughed quietly. "I have no doubt that you'll master it as well as the turkey, sweetheart."

"I appreciate your faith in me," she remarked as she settled back down beside him.

He smiled and went back to threading his fingers through her hair. It had been a long week; and a disastrous holiday…but as long as he had her, he could get through it; and his heart was still filled with warmth and happiness at the thought of how much it meant to her to give them a nice memory of the holiday. It was always so nice to be home with her on the weekends, to feel her warm and soft as she laid curled against him. Those things he had been discussing with his father several days before came floating through his mind. He wanted this every day…he wanted to come home to her every night; to share every holiday with her…to have every second he could with her. He just had to marry her. He needed to make her his wife…and suddenly it didn't feel like rushing. It just felt right. Her soft laughter filled his ears as she watched television and he brushed a kiss against her hair, his arm tightening around her. He had to find a way to silence those nagging little thoughts in his head and he had to find the right moment to ask…but he'd make it happen somehow…and hopefully it wouldn't be the complete disaster that Thanksgiving night had been.

Author's note: Some jitters may set in in the next chapter for someone, but don't worry ;)