A/N: Thanks for your reviews!

Chapter 2

"Go ahead and say it," Jim said as he drove toward his mother-in-law's neighborhood.

"Say what?" Johanna asked; her fingers fiddling with her purse strap.

"What you've been wanting to say since we dropped Katie off."

"And what do you think that is?"

"About my father," he said with a sigh.

"I think I've made it clear before that I don't appreciate him telling Katie that she doesn't need to do her homework."

"I don't think he means that she should never do it…"

"This is why I don't say anything to you about it," Johanna replied. "You say you agree that she needs to get it done on Fridays so it doesn't have to be worried about, but as soon as your father butts in and pisses me off, you defend him…so why even bother telling me to say what I'm thinking?"

"Because I'd rather you get it out," he replied. "I didn't mean to defend him, it's just not the way you make it seem. He just doesn't think she should have to do it on Fridays, that's all."

"And you stand there and say nothing while I tell him that I said she is," Johanna remarked. "You'd back me up if it was your mother…but not your father; oh no, you wouldn't dare."

"Don't go there, Johanna," he said tersely.

"Why not? It's the truth. We made this decision together about how best to handle Katie's homework since doing it on the weekend last year wasn't working out. We agreed…and because of circumstances out of our control, Katie sometimes has to do her work at your mother's…and she agrees that it should be done and over with but then we have Robert, telling her she doesn't need to do it right now, I'm just being strict and mean and she believes that…and you stand there and keep your mouth shut while I do all the talking…."

"You're always so quick to do it so why should I bother?" he asked. "You're always quick to jump; I mean, in my opinion, if you don't want him saying anything about it then don't have Katie take her work over there."

"So what do you suggest I do, if for some reason she has to be there for a little while on a Friday evening? She started it at home today, she has one worksheet left. Am I supposed to keep her up late to do it so it won't offend your father? Or is this just your way of saying you agree with him?"

"I didn't say I agree with him."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if you don't want to hear his opinion, don't send her homework with her," Jim remarked.

"Because God forbid he be told that it's our daughter and we make the rules and that he might not like them but he has to respect them."

"He just wants her to have fun."

"So do I…but I also want her to start realizing that she has responsibilities, Jim; that her homework is one of them…I'd like to quit having this battle with her all the damn time but when people keep telling her oh you don't need to do it now, that undermines me…because I'm the one always having that fight with her, not you; your only contribution to the argument is when you walk in the room and say 'listen to your mother' while you refill your coffee cup and go on back to whatever it is you were doing."

"What do you want me to do, Johanna?" he asked, annoyance in his tone.

She worried her bottom lip, frustration in her veins. "Nothing, Jim," she said quietly, tired of having this battle with him too when it came to his father. She was weary; frustration already gnawing at her over this dinner…emotions that she didn't want to feel. "I won't make her do it on Fridays anymore. She can do it whenever the hell she wants. I was just trying to make it better for her so she would have her whole weekend to do what she wants, and I could have two days free of saying 'please get your homework done' and you know, maybe spend a little time on Sundays looking over my work since hers was taken care of at the end of the school week but it's fine."

Jim sighed; she always knew how to make him feel like a jerk. "No, don't change things…I want her to get done as soon as possible; it is better that way and I'm sure before long she'll see that. I want you to be able to have some time on Sundays for your work while she's playing or watching TV…I do my work whenever I want and I know you do yours around me and Katie and when you have to fight her on Sundays, it means you being up late in the office to get ready for Monday morning and I hate that because it takes time away from us. I'm sorry, I should've backed you up when he started giving his opinion…I promise I'll talk to him about it and make it clear that we both feel this is what's best for Katie, okay?"

She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. "Don't worry about it. I won't send her homework over there anymore."

"We can't keep her up late to do it," Jim remarked.

"I'll do it," Johanna replied with a sigh.

"Johanna!"

"What!"

"You can't do her homework!"

She shrugged. "I'd only do it if it was really necessary…like I used to do my brother's for cash."

Jim sighed deeply. "Sweetheart; let's just put that topic away…you're not yourself today."

"I know…I keep trying to get out of my head today and I can't."

"Tell me what's on your mind."

"Same things as usual lately," she replied, her voice becoming strained with tears. "That I hate to go into my childhood home now…I hate to see that empty recliner and I hate that I don't hear the snap of a newspaper…and it shouldn't matter because he didn't love me anyway…"

"He did love you," Jim said quietly.

"No, he didn't," she cried. "He proved that for the final time when everyone got a letter but me…even his grandchildren got letters. I got nothing."

"You can't say you got nothing…"

"I didn't care about the damn money!" she exclaimed. "I didn't want his money! That's why it's sitting in Katie's college fund now because I didn't want it. I just wanted a damn letter like everyone else even if it was a reminder of my faults; but no, he had to slap me in the face one last time for the road and it shouldn't bother me…I should be used to it; I have a lifetime full of rejection from him but he just had to do it one last time and it isn't fair."

Jim dropped one hand away from the wheel to find her hand and curl around it. "Sweetheart, I'd do anything I could to make it better for you…maybe your letter just got lost, maybe he didn't get it finished in time…I don't know what happened."

"We know what happened; I wasn't worth writing one for."

"Jo," he said, with caution in his tone. "I know you're hurting and you're angry…but it doesn't make sense for him not to have at least attempted a letter for you. It had to have gotten lost somehow; and I know that doesn't do you any good…and I know you don't believe me but I know deep down that he loved you despite his faults…despite the fact that the two of you didn't always get along. He loved you; I know he did."

"I'm glad you think so…but now I have even more doubts than I did before," she said softly as she swiped at her tears. "Now even Mom just hangs up at the end of the phone call…she doesn't want affection from me; like she has to pick up his mantle or something. I keep trying to be there but the last few times she's made it clear that she doesn't want me there…and I can feel my skin crawl being in the house I grew up in and I hate it, Jim. I hate it."

"I know you do…but it's just going to take time, honey. It probably wouldn't be so bad if he hadn't died there."

"He wanted to be home…and Mom wanted him there too," she sniffled. "He said he didn't want to be in a hospital with people poking at him all the time."

"I know; but I think it makes it harder on all of you. Since your mother doesn't seem to want you here much lately; then after Thanksgiving, just take a break from coming over for awhile and maybe that will help, okay?"

She nodded. "I just need to get this put away in my brain. I need to stop thinking about it."

"It's only been two months, Jo; and you held it off for awhile…it's just starting to hit you, sweetheart, and there's no speeding up that process. You're going to have to let yourself feel it and work through it."

"I thought I worked through it after the will was read."

"That was the first night you cried," he remarked. "That was the first time you let yourself feel it; you tried to put it back away but you can't…you're going to have to go through your process just like everyone else.

Deep down she knew that, but she hated it just the same. "I promised Katie I'd be home in time to watch Full House with her," she said as she tried to push away the thoughts that plagued her.

"I'm sure we'll make it in plenty of time. Your mother hasn't been big on company so she's probably not going to want anyone to linger after dinner."

Johanna breathed deeply. "Today I think I'm okay with that."

"We'll get through it," Jim promised.

"Somehow," she murmured. It didn't seem like there was much choice lately and as she looked out the window at the sky that was already growing dark, she couldn't help but feel the same inside, dark and cold…adrift like the fallen leaves being blown down the street against their will. It felt like it was going to be an early winter…especially where her heart was concerned.

When they pulled up in front of Naomi's home; Johanna noticed that her siblings were waiting in their cars. "I wonder why everyone is in their cars," Jim asked as he parked.

"I guess we're all dreading it," she murmured, noticing that Frankie opened his door as he noticed them parking behind him. She unhooked her seatbelt and pushed open her door as he and Valerie stepped up onto the sidewalk, Colleen following behind as Paul lingered near the car.

"Why are you all out here?" Johanna asked.

Colleen shrugged. "I got here first…I didn't want to go in alone."

"I'm with you," Paul said sharply. "You don't need your brother and sister to hold your hand."

Johanna cut him a glare. "You better drop your attitude, Paul; because let's remember, I was the one in the delivery room holding her hand while she delivered two of your children, while you sat in the waiting room and claimed it wasn't your place."

"You need to get over that," Paul remarked. "Men don't belong in delivery rooms."

"I was in the room when my wife gave birth," Frankie remarked. "For all three of my kids. Jim was in there with Johanna. We're not scarred for life. I think you were just a wimp and couldn't handle it. If our sister wants to wait for us, she can and she will."

Colleen's hand slipped into Johanna's. "What do you think this is about, Sissy?" she asked softly. "I feel like I'm five years old and afraid of the dark again…I've been sick to my stomach since she called and gave all of her demands."

"I don't know what it's about," she said, giving her sister's hand a squeeze. "I don't feel too good about it myself."

"Neither do I," Frankie said, rubbing a hand against the light stubble on his cheek.

The door of the house opened, Naomi McKenzie stepping out onto the porch with a hard look on her face. "Are you all just going to stand out here like you don't have any sense?"

"Oh my God," Frankie whispered to Johanna. "Do you think Dad somehow reincarnated himself into Mom? Is that possible?"

"I don't know," she whispered back. "But if it is, we're going to need an exorcist."

"I wonder if they're in the yellow pages," Frankie murmured.

"Get in this house now!" Naomi exclaimed. "I don't want this to take all night."

"Come on," Jim said, his hand brushing against Johanna's back. "Let's get it over with."

They all moved into the house, hanging up their coats on the pegs by the door before stepping into the living room. The house still felt odd to Johanna as her gaze flicked to the recliner out of habit, finding it empty as it always would be now. She shifted her eyes away from it, feeling the heaviness in the air; the queasy feeling that filled her stomach. She had been so queasy lately that she had taken a pregnancy test the night before Katie's birthday while Jim was running last minute errands. The test had been negative, much to her relief, as she didn't think she could handle a pregnancy at this moment in time. She had barely been able to handle the explanation of why she had taken a test when Jim had caught sight of it in the trashcan and had panicked. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that her husband had been very happy to hear that the result was negative…and then realizing that maybe he had been insensitive with his happiness over the result; spent the rest of the evening trying to assure her that her stomach issues were stress related and that he was only happy about the negative result because it wasn't a good time for another baby. He was right of course, it wasn't a good time…and she was happy with the little family they had anyway.

"Mom," Frankie said, his voice pulling Johanna from her thoughts as Jim continued to guide her through the room with his hand on her back. "I would've helped you move the table."

"I can do it myself," Naomi stated. "It's not hard to drag."

"But I would've done it and put the…" Frankie stated only to be cut off by his mother.

"I can do things for myself!" Naomi exclaimed. "Just because my husband died doesn't mean I can't do things for myself."

"I know that," Frankie replied. "I'd just rather help you than have you dragging tables around."

"I'm capable of doing things on my own."

Valerie laid a hand on Frankie's arm and gave a soft shake of her head as he opened his mouth. "Let it go," she whispered to him.

"Sit down," Naomi remarked. "Dinner's ready."

"I'll help you serve," Johanna said out of habit.

Her mother cut her a sharp look. "I just said I'm capable of doing things on my own."

"I didn't say you weren't," she replied with a raised brow. "I always help you serve."

"Well I don't need your help," Naomi remarked before glancing to Colleen. "And before you start, I don't need yours either."

"So I shouldn't dry the dishes as usual?" Colleen asked.

"I'll dry my own dishes. Sit down."

"This is going to be a fun dinner," Frankie stated as they all moved to their usual seats at the table.

"She's just lashing out," Valerie murmured. "She doesn't know what to do with herself without Frank."

"Neither do the rest of us," Frankie muttered.

Colleen glanced at him. "Did you move into his office yet?"

Frankie shook his head. "No."

"You cleaned it out," Colleen remarked.

"So what?" he asked. "Does that mean I have to rush in there?"

"No," she answered. "I just figured since you were in a big hurry to clean out his office that you were going to move in behind his desk quickly."

"Well you were wrong…as usual," he said tersely.

"How's Bess doing?" Johanna asked.

"She cries at least once a week," Frankie replied. "Tells me to move into the office because it's what he'd want…and so she doesn't have to go so far to give me my messages."

"He would want you to," Johanna said softly. "He had that office in mind for you since the day you were born."

"I'm not ready yet," Frankie said firmly. "It's bad enough I took his job…I don't have to run out and take his office too before the chair is even cold."

"You didn't take his job," Valerie told him. "You were Vice President of the company…and now it's your company because that's what Frank wanted for you; what he trained you for all your life. You didn't take from him…he built it for you…just like you'll keep it going for Greg."

"I just can't do it yet," Frankie replied. "I know I have to…but I can't yet."

"Wait until after the new year," Jim suggested. "Maybe that would be enough time…and it'll be like starting off the new year of the company with the change that has to be although we all wish things were different."

His brother-in-law nodded. "I guess I could do that…new year, new start, so to speak. I'm going to need a new business lawyer for the company, Dad's lawyer is retiring…I know that's not exactly a focus of either one of you; but do you have any names that I can look at for a new lawyer?"

"I know a few people," Jim remarked. "I'll get you their information."

Johanna raked a hand through her hair. "The only ones at my firm who do that are jackasses that I wouldn't want you to have to deal with, I'm sure Jim probably has better options…but if there's something I can help you with in the meantime, there are business matters that I can handle; like contracts and such."

"I appreciate that," Frankie replied. "I might need you to do that; there were a few things that kind of fell by the wayside with everything that's happened and I might need you to look over things and see if we're in breach of the contract."

"I can do that; bring the paperwork to my office, or call, I can come and get it."

"Do you want me to redecorate the office?" Colleen asked.

Frankie glanced at her. "Bug, the last thing I want is yellow throw pillows in my office."

"I wouldn't put pillows in your office," she retorted. "I just thought maybe we could change the carpet or put up some curtains or something…new furniture."

He shook his head. "I'm not changing the furniture."

"Okay, what about the curtains or new blinds? New carpet?"

"I would feel like I was erasing Dad from his own company."

"You wouldn't be," Valerie assured. "You'd just be making easier for you to walk in there."

"I don't know," he said with a sigh. "I'll let you know, Colleen…maybe a new couch…that couch he has in there is pretty old…but not an ugly one."

Colleen shook her head. "No, nothing ugly. Maybe just a simple leather sofa…that would look professional; just a basic black?"

"That sounds nice," Johanna agreed. "The last time I was there, the chairs in his office looked like they could stand some recovering; maybe Colleen could have them recovered to match the sofa?"

"I could do that," Colleen agreed. "I have someone who does a very nice job refreshing things like chairs. We could get some new blinds if you don't want curtains."

"I don't want curtains…Dad wouldn't want curtains in his office."

"No curtains then," she replied. "New blinds?"

"I guess new blinds wouldn't hurt."

"Would you want the desk chair redone?" Colleen asked hesitantly.

"No!" he exclaimed. "No…we can't touch that."

"We won't touch it," his sister agreed. "What about the carpet?"

"Not right now," Frankie answered. "Maybe later on."

"Okay," Colleen told him. "Just let me know when you want me to get the things done that you're okay with."

"It's so nice that you're all sitting out here redecorating your father's office and hiring new people," Naomi said, tension in her voice as she carried the first two plates into the room.

"We're just trying to help Frankie," Colleen remarked. "I just thought some changes to the office might help him move in easier and Jo's just helping him with some legal work until he gets a new lawyer."

Naomi nodded. "It's a shame you two never volunteered to help your father."

"I offered to redecorate for him!" Colleen exclaimed. "He said he wouldn't let someone with questionable taste decorate his office."

"And I have looked over legal papers for him in the past," Johanna stated.

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did," she said sharply. "If his lawyer was out of town and he needed something looked at right away, he called and I went and looked at it and told him how to handle it or took care of it if it was minor and easily resolved with a few phone calls."

"He never told me anything about it," Naomi remarked.

"Well maybe he didn't tell you everything," Johanna replied. "But I know I did it."

"So do I," Frankie added. "There were times when Dad called her to look over things."

Naomi whirled away from the table and returned to the kitchen, silence falling over the table as if they were now afraid to discuss anything since she had already reacted badly to the conversation that they were having.

As they sat in silence, Johanna eyed the plates that her mother was sitting down in front of each one of them…there were different meals. Frankie and Valerie had lasagna…Colleen had homemade macaroni and cheese with a slice of ham. Paul had been given a small steak, as had Jim…and she herself had a plate full of her favorite fettucine in butter sauce. "Mom," she said somewhat quietly as her mother settled down in her chair. "Why do we all have different meals?"

"I made everyone's favorites," Naomi remarked while picking up her knife and fork to slice her piece of ham.

"Why?" Frankie asked, eyeing her warily now that the difference of meals had been brought to his attention.

"I have my reasons."

Colleen's gaze flicked to Johanna before glancing to their mother. "What reasons would those be?" she asked.

"We'll get to it," Naomi answered. "Everyone eat before it gets cold; I'm not going to do any reheating."

Johanna glanced to Jim who patted her knee under the table, clearly expecting bad news by the look on his face, she thought to herself. Her stomach churned; she had a feeling it was bad news too…and a glance down the table at the empty chair that used to be her father's made her throat tighten. She couldn't take any more bad news this year.

Frankie took a bite of his lasagna, his gaze still on their mother. "Why didn't you want the kids here?" he asked, unwilling to let silence continue to reign over them.

"Maybe I wanted a meal free of noise," Naomi remarked. "Eight grandchildren make a lot of noise at dinner time."

"They enjoy being together," Colleen commented. "They're cousins, they mainly see each other here."

"I'm aware of how they're related to each other, Colleen," Naomi said somewhat tartly. "I just didn't want the noise tonight. This meal is for adults, not rambunctious children who get away with too much."

"Now wait just a damn minute," Frankie replied. "My kids know how to behave; Greg just turned thirteen, he's not running around the house anymore and hasn't been for quite awhile now. Claire is nine and not a bad child, she gets a little excited to be with Katie at times but they always quiet down. I know Trevor is in his terrible twos but we do our best to keep him from bothering anyone. Katie just turned eight and she minds her manners and quiets down when Johanna tells her so. Lindsey is ten and Sammi is seven; they're well behaved little girls despite sharing Colleen's gene pool…Philip is six and Brandon is four and clearly being trained to be like their father so they're not exactly rambunctious boys…"

"I resent that," Paul stated.

Frankie shrugged. "I don't really care; my point was most of my mother's grandchildren are school age and well mannered."

"I'm aware of my grandchildren's ages, Frankie," Naomi replied. "Their age isn't of issue, it's their noise. I'm aware that Greg is becoming a teenager and always wants to turn my TV to that god awful music channel. I'm aware that Claire and Katie enjoy each other but they never stop talking for a single second…"

"You've always been free to tell Katie to quiet down," Johanna remarked. "You're the one always telling us to leave the kids alone when we discipline at your house."

"Yeah, you always say that Grandma has different rules," Colleen declared. "So don't act like it's our fault if your grandchildren annoy you…you've always given them their way."

"That's beside the point," Naomi said sharply. "I just didn't want them here this time."

Jim took a sip of his drink. "Why do you want us here?" he asked. "Why don't we just get to it?"

"Are you in a hurry, Jim?" Naomi asked.

"No, but I know my wife is sitting here tied in knots and you don't really seem to want company…so…maybe you should just tell us what the problem is."

"There's no problem," Naomi said. "I called you all here to tell you that I will not being doing Thanksgiving dinner this year."

Her children stared at her as if she had lost her mind; silence reigning for several moments until finally Johanna found her voice. "What do you mean you're not doing Thanksgiving."

"Just what I said," she declared. "I'm not making Thanksgiving dinner."

"Why?" Colleen asked.

"Because I'm not cooking big meals anymore."

"This seems awful sudden," Johanna replied. "You're not sick are you?"

"No! Why do you keep asking that?" Naomi exclaimed.

"Because," she faltered. "You're…you're just not yourself lately and it makes me worry."

"I'm not sick," Naomi said firmly. "Not in the way you mean."

"Then what way do you mean?" Valerie asked.

"It means I'm sick and tired of being the one that has to do it," she stated. "My husband is gone so what's the point in it?"

"You still have us," Colleen countered. "We're a family."

"No," their mother stated. "We're a broken family."

"We're not a broken family," Johanna retorted.

"Oh yes we are," her mother replied, her tone harsh as she eyed her. "Do you not see that empty chair at the end of the table? Or are you too busy trying to ignore it as usual."

"I'm well aware of the fact that it's empty, Mom," she said as she tried to hang on to her temper.

"Are you? You don't even mention your father."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is! Of course I'm not surprised, you didn't even shed a tear at his funeral," Naomi shot back. "You don't care that he's gone! You just went on with your life like nothing happened!"

"That's a damn lie, Naomi!" Jim exclaimed before Johanna could say a word. "She's grieving him just like everyone else."

She scoffed. "I haven't seen any grief."

Johanna's chin rose a notch. "Just because I don't cry in front of you doesn't mean that I haven't."

"Oh I doubt that you have…it's just like your brother said the day of the funeral, you didn't care. You just stood there with no emotion and I've yet to see any emotion from you over your father."

"Mom," Frankie interrupted. "A few weeks ago when we finally got around to having Greg's birthday party; I apologized to Johanna for what I said, so don't go bringing that up. I was angry at Dad for dying and I took it out on her because she wasn't doing what everyone thought she should be doing. We've put it behind us."

"Do you really think it doesn't bother me to walk in here and know he's not going to be in that chair?" Johanna asked, anger snapping in her eyes. "I wish I could be as blasé about it as you think I am…do you really think you're the only one hurting here?"

"No; I've seen grief from your siblings," Naomi remarked. "But I haven't seen anything from you."

"I didn't know I had to do all of my grieving in front of you," she retorted. "At least you got last words from him; you got a letter. Frankie got a letter. Colleen got a letter. The grandchildren have letters…what the hell did I get from him? Not a damn thing so that ought to tell you what he thought of me in the end when he slapped me in the face one last time for the road, so why don't you think about that while you sit there and judge me. At least you got something from him…what the hell do I have?"

"He left you money," Naomi hissed.

"I didn't want his goddamn money!" Johanna exclaimed. "I put it in Katie's college fund the next day. I wanted the same thing everyone else got but I didn't get it. You gave away some of his things and you didn't once offer me something that belonged to my father…"

"Why should I when you acted like you didn't care?!" Naomi exclaimed. "Why should I think you'd want something of his?"

"Because I'm his daughter whether he liked it or not," she shot back, tears filling her eyes. "Whether you think I grieve enough or grieve correctly. But it's fine, Mom; you and his preferred children can have it all. I don't need anything…I've got a lifetime of memories of being the one he didn't want."

"Your father loved you," Naomi said sharply.

"Yeah," she said, her voice strained. "So much that I didn't warrant a letter unlike everyone else."

"Get over the damn letter, Johanna," her mother replied. "Do you not understand that he was sick? Maybe he thought he wrote it and he hadn't; you know how medication affected him…or maybe he had his reasons for not writing one; he probably knew you wouldn't believe him anyway, you never did; and there's nothing to be done about it now so quit harping on it. You act like a five year old who didn't get a piece of candy at the store. Maybe instead of dwelling on a damn letter, you might actually take a day to mourn your father."

"Everyone deals with grief differently," Valerie remarked as she pushed her way into the conversation. "Some people don't cry right away…some people release it in other ways, like smashing a coffee mug against the wall."

"Who told you I did that?" Johanna asked softly. "I was alone when I did that."

Valerie gave her a small smile. "I didn't know you did…I know that your brother did though; guess smashing coffee mugs is a family trait."

"Colleen smashed a very expensive teacup that my mother had given her," Paul said snidely.

"I didn't like it anyway," Colleen replied. "It was ugly."

"So you see, Naomi," Valerie continued. "Your children don't always cry…they break things to express how they feel."

"I don't care what you say," Naomi replied. "I know I haven't seen one hint of grief from her. I don't think any of my children have been back to their father's grave. You all just picked up and moved on like he was never even here."

"That's a lie," Jim repeated. "I see Johanna's grief every day. I watch her help our daughter through her grief for her grandfather…and more recently, her upset over the fact that her grandmother didn't come to her birthday party."

"I'm not in a party mood," she snapped.

"I understand that," he told her. "But little girls who are grieving, don't."

"I sent a gift with Colleen," Naomi replied.

"She wanted you," Jim retorted. "And I understand that you're hurting, Naomi; I do…but you could've at least called Katie on her birthday. She loves you and she wanted you."

"Greg was a little disappointed that you didn't come to his party either," Frankie stated.

"Teenage boys don't want their grandmother around," Naomi retorted.

"My teenage boy does," Frankie said sharply. "He already lost his grandfather; he doesn't want his grandmother to just drop out of his life too."

"Lindsey kept waiting for you at her party too," Colleen commented. "You have kind of dropped out of your grandchildren's lives."

"I haven't dropped out of anyone's life, I sent gifts, and we're getting off topic," she stated.

"Fine," Frankie said. "The topic was Thanksgiving…and how it seems like you're punishing us for Dad dying…like it's our fault."

"I never said that!"

"It's how you're acting," he said. "What are we supposed to do about Thanksgiving?"

"Meaning what?" Naomi asked.

"Meaning we planned on coming here as usual and now it's very close to the holiday and you're telling us you're not doing it," Frankie replied.

"It was our year to come here too," Johanna added.

"Well it's not now."

"What are we supposed to do?" Colleen asked.

Naomi's jaw tightened as her blue eyes snapped with anger. "You learn to cook your own damn meal, Colleen! Maybe if you had been more willing to learn when you were younger, you wouldn't have to rely on other people to provide you with a meal."

"I cook!"

"Not very well," Naomi told her. "I can't imagine you sullying your hands with a turkey but you're going to have to learn or maybe your high class husband there can have a meal brought in for you."

"I'm fine with not coming here," Paul remarked. "It doesn't bother me at all."

"Oh I know," she said snidely. "We've never been good enough for your high class ways and I'm going to be very happy not to see you at my table. You think you're so much, looking down your nose at everyone. I don't know how my daughter was good enough for you."

"Colleen had the potential to be better than this," Paul replied. "And she is."

Naomi scoffed. "That's just what you tell yourself."

"Mom," Johanna interrupted. "I thought that Thanksgiving and familiar routines with the holiday would maybe help make us all feel a little better as we try to get through this first one without him…"

"Nothing is going to make me feel better! How can holiday routines make me feel better when I don't have my husband to shoo away from the pies? When I don't have to bake an extra pan of rolls just for him? When he's not drifting into the kitchen every so often to smell the turkey! It's not going to be helpful, Johanna. I know it was your year to be here well that's too bad; you have in-laws, go there."

"My parents are eating out this year," Jim stated. "My oldest brother is going to his in-laws; my second oldest brother is in Germany; Andrew is on business in Switzerland and my sister is going to her in-laws and my grandmother is spending the holidays with her daughter."

"That's not my problem," Naomi replied. "Johanna is capable of making a Thanksgiving meal so stay home and do so. And before you open your mouth, Frankie; you have in-laws as well; go to them if Valerie can't be bothered to make a holiday meal."

"My parents are in Florida as usual at this time of year," Valerie replied.

"Then cook your own meal!" Naomi told her. "I'm not here to be your personal chef."

"No one ever said you were!" Valerie exclaimed. "You've just always wanted us all here so we've always came here."

"Well times have changed and I'm not doing it anymore," Naomi declared. "You'll all have to make your own dinners."

"We'll just go to my mother's," Paul said as he glanced at Colleen.

"You go to your mother's, I'm not," Colleen replied.

"Fine," he said tersely. "The children and I will go to my mother's."

"Lindsey and Sammi aren't going; all your mother does is make them cry. She only cares about the boys; so you and the boys go and the girls will be with me."

"Doing what?" Paul barked. "Eating happy meals? You can't cook a holiday meal and we all know it. You can barely make dinner most nights."

"You're free to eat at your mother's every night," Colleen retorted.

"That's enough," Naomi stated. "If you two want to fight, do it when you leave."

"I can't believe you don't want us here for Thanksgiving," Frankie exclaimed once more. "You're always preaching at us about how we're a family and should be together on the holidays and now you don't want us? What the hell, Mom."

"I'm entitled to say I'm done!" Naomi retorted. "My husband is gone; I don't need to cook much anymore. You all have your own families. I'm alone now and I need to get used to it."

"You're not alone," Colleen said. "You have us. You have grandchildren."

"Do you really think that matters in the day to day scheme of things?" their mother asked.

"Mom," Johanna interrupted. "I try to be here as much as I can; I've been coming over on my lunch breaks a few times a week; sometimes after work…"

"I didn't ask you to," Naomi replied.

"No, you didn't…I'm just saying that I've been trying to be here as much as I can."

"I don't need you to be here all the time. I don't need any of you to be here all the time."

"If you didn't want me here, you should've told me to leave, like you did the other day," Johanna said firmly.

"I figured that would get in the way of you assuaging your guilt."

"What guilt!?" Johanna yelled.

"For not mourning your father," she said harshly. "I know the two of you didn't get along but you could at least try to act like you cared."

"Don't you dare," Johanna seethed. "Don't you dare keep sitting there and acting like I didn't care. I was here every single day for three months, helping to take care of him just like Frankie and Colleen were here. I was here when he died just like all of you; so don't you go there, Mother. You don't want me here, that's fine. You don't want to make Thanksgiving dinner, that's fine. I'll make Thanksgiving dinner. Frankie, you and Valerie and the kids are welcome to join us for dinner; Colleen the same goes for you and the kids. I know you don't like to drive in the evening, Mother, so I'll make sure someone picks you up."

"Who said I was coming?" Naomi asked.

Johanna turned her sharp gaze toward her, reminding her so very much of Frank in that instant. "I did," Johanna stated firmly. "Just because you're going off the deep end doesn't mean we're going to let you go without a meal on the holiday. Dad wouldn't want us leaving you alone on the holiday just because your hell bent to punish everyone including yourself."

"I'm not concerned with this holiday," she retorted.

"Well we are," Frankie exclaimed. "We're going to Johanna's and you're going too. Johanna's right, Dad wouldn't want us leaving you alone on Thanksgiving."

"You don't know what he'd want," she hissed.

"I think I do," her son said, a hint of anger in his tone.

"You can think what you want," Naomi replied.

Frankie eyed her cooly. "My father told me I was to keep his business alive for his grandson…that I was to look after my sisters and make sure they weren't mistreated and always have what they need…and that I was to take care of my mother and make sure she's comfortable, safe and well taken care of, so don't you tell me that I don't know what he wants. We're having Thanksgiving as a family; you don't feel like cooking this year; that's fine, I get that; you don't want to have the dinner here, that's fine…Johanna's cooking and hosting this year; I'll drop Valerie and the kids off first and then I'll be over to pick you up…we might not have much to feel thankful for this year, but damn it, we're having Thanksgiving together just like Dad would want."

"We'll see about that," Naomi replied.

"I guess we will," he said firmly.

Naomi ignored his statement as she eyed her children. "Now that Thanksgiving is out of the way, I'll tell you the reason that I made your favorites for dinner."

"I'm not sure I want to know," Collen commented. "The way this meal is going; maybe it's best to just have the Thanksgiving bombshell and save the next one for another time."

"There won't be a next time," Naomi remarked. "This is our last family dinner."

They all stared at her in disbelief…and Johanna couldn't help but suddenly feel like she didn't know her mother at all. She had thought that with the loss of her father that her mother would want them all near even more than usual and yet she was going in the complete opposite direction, pushing them away…being harsh and cold. The world already felt as though it was tipped on its axis with the loss of Frank McKenzie…but now it felt positively upside down and she wasn't sure it would ever be right again.