by Douglas Young
“Are you coming or not?” An exasperated Dorinda Thompson called from the bottom stair as her 20-year-old son Oliver fussed with his hair. He had skipped the last three Thanksgiving family reunions at Aunt LaDonna and Uncle Mooney’s house two hours away. Always awkward facing so many relatives, he felt thoroughly inadequate when asked what he had done over the past year. Nor had he ever bonded with many of his kin there, and several of his relations had long struck him as distinctly disagreeable. For most of his life he silently endured their various slights and insults, nursing them bitterly ever afterward. However, in adolescence his anger began to trump his shyness and he started to snap back sarcastically. But this had made the reunions more tense for him – and his mother — prompting him to stop attending.
His older sister Sydonie always liked big family gatherings. Pleasant by nature, pretty, and enjoying company, she was a star at such affairs. Oliver envied how happily she seemed to glide through life. In high school, her story struck him as a never-ending parade of fun times with friends, dates, dances, and honors. While she was their school’s most sought-after cheerleader on the homecoming court, he was in therapy twice a week taking pills for anxiety and depression. Now her college sorority president, when relatives asked about Sydonie at Thanksgiving, she comfortably spoke at length about her many awards, travels, and exciting opportunities. Oliver felt his life looked palpably pale.
His mother let him miss the last three reunions out of concern for his state of mind and to avoid having to repair hurt feelings among any relatives annoyed at her son’s occasionally tart tongue. But she implored Oliver to attend this year’s get-together since she sensed he had been more isolated of late and she could not stand the thought of her solitary son spending still another Thanksgiving alone or her having to make up yet another excuse for his absence. He finally relented to join the rest of the family since he had been extra lonely, his mother assured him so many of his kin had asked about and wanted to see him (what she saw as a noble lie), and his father had requested he join them this year, promising to chat with him if he felt uncomfortable.
Why do I even care what these people think of how I look? Oliver asked himself as he painstakingly perfected the part in his hair. But he knew he cared far more what others thought than he liked to admit.
On the drive to Aunt LaDonna and Uncle Mooney’s house, Sydonie was continually on the phone talking, texting, checking images, videos and posts, and taking pictures. Oliver read a book, occasionally looked out the window, and periodically checked his watch to see how much longer until they arrived and how many more hours before they likely returned home.
“What a joy to have the whole family going to the reunion,” their mother exclaimed as Oliver burrowed deeper into his novel. “LaDonna says there’s gon’ be a real fine turnout this year, sure enough. Won’t we have such a big time seeing everybody?”
“I wonder how Aunt Madina’s doing now,” her husband asked smiling at his son in the rear-view mirror while his wife frowned at him.
“Now let’s please not make fun of my hypochondriac aunt,” Dorinda implored her husband.
“Let’s see now. As I recall, last year she was in the throes of hemorrhoids,” he noted.
“I remember her complaining about toe fungus at the last reunion I attended,” Oliver said grinning at his father in the rear-view mirror while his sister texted friends.
“I wonder what it’ll be this year,” their father said.
“Let’s bet on it,” Oliver replied.
“No, let’s not,” his mother interjected. “Now Aunt Madina’s always been high strung, and we just need to be kind and understanding and remember her in our prayers. She’s so sweet and just needs someone to listen to her since the poor thing’s been a widow for more years than I can remember and is just lonely as all get out.”
“Maybe we should find another hypochondriac for her to marry,” Oliver offered as his father chuckled.
“Now I mean it, y’all,” his mother insisted in a raised voice. “Please. We only see her once a year and for just a few hours at that. It means the world for Aunt Madina to get to see everybody, and she’s gon’ be thrilled to see how much you’ve grown, Oliver.”
As they got nearer their destination, Sydonie grew more excited while her brother felt the butterflies in his stomach start to rise.
“Oh, now this is real important, y’all.” Their mother turned to her children in the back seat. “I want y’all to be extra sweet to your Cousin Rhiannon Rand. Your Aunt LaDonna tells me that Rhiannon’s had a right troublesome time in college. You know, she was always a real quiet little thing, and I ’spect leaving home was awful hard on her. Well, anyway, the poor dear was recently in a mental hospital for depression. So I want everyone to please be extra sweet to that child, you hear?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Sydonie promised. “We’ll make a point of making her feel extra welcome.”
“Thank you, sweetie. Oliver, did you hear me?” His mother asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Have I ever been anything but nice to Rhiannon, or anyone else at these things?”
“Well, you’ve made some pretty pointed remarks to a few of your kin, as I recall,” his mother declared.
“Richly deserved, and only to the jerks who took unprovoked shots at me first,” her son quickly replied.
“Honey, I know there are some difficult people in my family,” his mother acknowledged with raised hands. “And I’m not excusing any misbehavior. Believe me, I grew up with them and know better than anyone how tiresome some of them can be.” She sighed. “And I do so appreciate you joining us this year, Oliver. Oh, Lord knows, I do, dear. I just want this to go well so we’ll all want to come back next year and every year. Most of the family are really good people. So let’s please focus on them, ‘turn the other cheek’ if somebody’s rude, and just think what Jesus would do if anybody’s ugly.”
“As I recall, Jesus also ran the money-changers right out of the temple,” Oliver noted as his father winked at him in the rear-view mirror.
“Oliver, please don’t be difficult, dear, and do make a special effort to be sweet to your Cousin Rhiannon.”
“Will do. She was always kind, real quiet, had a pleasant smile, and was cute to boot.”
“Thank you, dear. Let’s just all be at our best today and make a fun family reunion,” his mother stated with a sigh.
As they walked in the front door of Aunt LaDonna and Uncle Mooney’s home, a couple dozen conversations were creating currents of noise flowing throughout the downstairs. Occasional bursts of laughter echoed above the din as people retold family stories with new wrinkles and exaggerations.
This could be the worst part of the whole affair for Oliver since he had to greet so many people. But due to this year’s larger number of attendees, he was grateful for the extra volume and greater ability to get lost in the crowd, fondly recalling a line from one of his favorite authors, F. Scott Fitzgerald: “And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.”
Oliver was relieved to spot his Great Uncle Thornton who always had a kind word, shared a love of history, and harbored zero pretentions. Seeing him as an island of security in a sea of sharks, Oliver went to him. Uncle Thornton proceeded to recount his recent trip to ancestral homelands in Scotland where he and Oliver’s Great Aunt Joanne had enjoyed exploring cities and hiking hills.
“Nephew, I got more exercise than a fellow following his wife around one of them great big groceries.”
To a cousin walking by asking where Joanne was, Thornton exclaimed, “Lord, I’ve lost my wife and I’m too old to train a new one. She’s around here somewheres. I’m confident she’ll turn up. After ’bout near sixty years of marriage, she hasn’t left me yet.”
Moving on to other relatives, Oliver noticed a petite girl his age standing alone with black hair and blue eyes whom he soon realized was Cousin Rhiannon. Looking lonely and timid, she was prettier than Oliver remembered. Typically too intimidated to approach a good-looking girl, his cousin’s shared shyness reassured him and he walked to her. She smiled as he extended his hand and introduced himself.
“I know you. You don’t need to tell me,” she stated. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at one of these.”
“Yeah, I’m not too partial to some of the company,” he replied.
A giggle shattered her sad countenance and suddenly he adored her. They made small talk about their respective colleges while occasionally waving at or speaking to various relatives walking by them. Oliver was struck by how easily Rhiannon conversed, and he felt a charge each time he made her laugh talking about one eccentric relative or another.
Suddenly their Great Aunt Madina gave each a hug and a kiss and inquired about their studies. Since neither her niece nor nephew was very comfortable talking about her or himself, Rhiannon soon asked how their aunt was.
“Well, child, your Aunt Madina is in the initial stages of Alzheimer’s,” she pronounced.
“Oh, my God,” a stunned Oliver exclaimed. But as she continued talking, it struck Rhiannon and Oliver that their aunt’s mind, speech, and manner appeared quite sharp. She soon departed to share her latest illness with as many other relatives as would listen.
When she left, their Great Uncle Lewis greeted them. He was a big man who was the most prominent doctor in the local small town. Oliver and Rhiannon had each been treated by him when visiting his family as children, and both were fond of his story-telling prowess. Oliver considered Lewis the smartest person in the whole family tree and, though he liked his great uncle immensely, felt extra self-conscious around him since he sensed he could read his thoughts. Rhiannon appreciated her uncle’s kindness and that he never inquired whether she had a boyfriend or asked why not. Her mother periodically consulted Uncle Lewis about her daughter’s delicate emotional health. Rhiannon not only knew this but wished her uncle was a psychiatrist she could see.
Soon the relative whom Oliver and Rhiannon felt most intimidated around held court nearby, and in his usual elevated voice. The Rev. Gideon Pillow was a cousin the same age as Uncle Lewis who made a point of being prominent everywhere he went. He had pastored more small, nondenominational churches than anyone could recall. Most had asked him to leave. Though a gifted public speaker, in personal dealings Reverend Pillow displayed a pronounced penchant for dispensing with decorum, especially if such tact inhibited him from pushing his uncompromising interpretation of the Bible. In their conversations, for years Oliver had timed how long before his pastor cousin invoked religion, no matter the topic. It had never taken more than two minutes. Whenever the minister inevitably inquired about the state of his soul, Oliver quickly changed the subject and moved on as soon as he could. Rhiannon studiously avoided him altogether.
Cousin Gideon was standing close to Oliver, Rhiannon, and their Uncle Lewis when he started to discuss the recent death of a local 13-year-old boy whose family attended the pastor’s latest church. The child had been a late-night passenger in a speeding car full of older teens that ran into a Mack truck, instantly killing the child.
Uncle Lewis stopped talking to listen closely to his cousin. Lewis was the boy’s family doctor who had been at the hospital when the child’s body was brought in by ambulance. Telling his desperate parents their son was dead had been one of the most emotionally searing experiences of his life as the mother collapsed in his arms sobbing uncontrollably.
Lewis had never cared for Cousin Gideon, and the contempt was returned. Even as boys many decades before, Lewis had dismissed Gideon as a self-righteous blowhard with little discernible empathy. Gideon had disdain for Lewis as a lost agnostic not remotely deserving of his tremendous professional success and public respect. While frequently at odds as children – once even physically fighting – for decades they had studiously kept their distance.
But Lewis was now keenly interested in his cousin’s confident pronouncements about the recent tragedy and felt engulfed by a rising wave of revulsion. He, Rhiannon, and Oliver listened closely as Reverend Pillow pontificated to some out-of-state cousins.
“Yes, it’s a sad story that we’ve seen all too many times before,” the minister loudly lamented. “A young boy running around with the wrong crowd, not properly disciplined by his parents who, alas, and I’m afraid all too predictably, had serious troubles of their own. Such a sin and a shame the lad had yet to accept Christ. Alas, not two weeks before the accident, I asked yet again if he would be baptized to accept Christ as his Lord and Savior to join the ranks of the redeemed. But he declined. Oh, how it pained my heart not to be able to console the parents that their boy was with the Lord in Heaven. It just grieves me so to know that he now dwells forever in the fires of Hell.”
Oliver noticed his uncle’s nostrils flare as his eyes narrowed and seemed to bore into the pastor like lasers. Then the doctor spoke in a commanding voice.
“You know, Giddy, it’s bad enough you still peddle such bullshit. I’m just curious if you actually believe any of that crap.”
The silence enveloping the immediate area chilled all who heard. Folks sensed they were witnessing what would surely be a major event in family history as Gideon Pillow turned to his cousin with a startled expression of outrage.
“I most certainly do believe the Word of God,” he declared. “Indeed, that is all I preach, and I pity anyone who doubts one perfect syllable of it. But I will pray for you, Lewis, that at last you untangle yourself from the wiles of Satan and return to the faith of your fathers before it’s too late.”
A growing number of relatives stopped talking to stare and listen, and Uncle Mooney and Aunt LaDonna, concerned that something might be happening to jeopardize their carefully planned dinner, turned toward the combatants to see if anything was remiss.
“Ah,” Lewis proclaimed, “the vicar of kindness, the cardinal of compassion, that great pastor comforter, His Holy Obnoxiousness Himself, the Rev. Ass Wipe. What a walking ad for a laxative – ‘Extra Strength.’”
There were gasps and Oliver noted shocked faces all around, but saw Rhiannon was smiling.
Initially stunned, Gideon raised his head and pointed at Lewis. “Your words have no effect on me, cousin, for I know Satan has put them into your mouth. I pity you but I will nevertheless pray that you turn away from your wickedness to become a true Christian role model worthy of this town’s respect.”
With a sarcastic chuckle, Lewis retorted, “It’s a real shame this town didn’t have a good whorehouse when we were growing up so you could’ve flushed some of that crap out of your system.”
“How dare you talk to a man of God like that,” Gideon shot back.
“And Hell’s full of sons of bitches like you,” Lewis replied with a grin as Gideon blanched.
To Oliver’s delight, a few folks chuckled, including Rhiannon.
“Lewis, your weak words have absolutely no effect on me,” Gideon declared, “for I am bathed in the blood of Christ—”
“Keep talking and I’m gon’ bathe yo’ ass in your own blood.”
Sharing a look of horror, LaDonna and Mooney stepped between the cousins.
“Now that’s enough!” LaDonna declared. “Both of you. This is Thanksgiving, for Heaven’s sake, and I won’t have such strife in this house. Enough, I say. Enough!”
The combatants’ wide-eyed wives arrived to pull them away and, in a booming voice, Mooney proclaimed it was time to eat. Lewis had a fixed smile while Gideon appeared discombobulated as their wives led them to opposite sides of the house.
People began talking again, in low tones at first but quickly becoming boisterous. As everyone lined up to fill his plate, Oliver and Rhiannon grinned at one another.
“Now, Cuz,’” he observed, “I’d say we just witnessed the greatest moment in the history of these family reunions. In fact, I do believe I will be deep into dementia before forgetting this day.”
Laughing and nodding, Rhiannon replied, “I’m so glad my mom pushed me to come here.”
They ate together in a room with other college- and high school-aged kin. For a short while folks discussed the big blowup, but conversation soon shifted to other subjects.
Oliver was thrilled that his favorite uncle had excoriated his least favorite relative, and in public. Even more satisfying was how swell he and his comely cousin were getting along.
But just as he was about to renew the conversation with Rhiannon, his second most reviled relation, Cousin Macy Keener, sat opposite them. The same age as him and Rhiannon, Macy was partial to embarrassing her shyer relatives with personal questions. She particularly enjoyed the energy produced by arguments, and especially delighted in personal insults.
“Well, look who finally deigned to grace us with his presence again, the ever kind Cousin Ollie.” Macy smiled at him. “After not seeing you for so many years, we figured you were just way too good for us.” Rhiannon’s enlarged eyes turned to Oliver.
“Aw, a mighty Happy Thanksgiving to you too, Miss Macy,” he replied as a now tense Rhiannon looked back and forth at them.
“Still writing your little articles for the school paper?” Macy asked.
“Don’t worry. They’re only for folks who read,” he answered as Macy chuckled and Rhiannon now smiled at him.
“Still living at home with Mommy and Daddy?” Macy inquired.
“It’s a whole lot cheaper than getting an apartment or dorm room,” Oliver noted. “Not all of us have parents who can bankroll our living expenses.”
“Ever thought about staying in your dad’s fraternity house? You do know he was a Delta Kappa Epsilon, don’t you?” Macy asked. “Mom tells me he was quite the big shot there in college. So did you ever think about pledging your old man’s fraternity?”
“Now there’s a thought that never crossed my radar.”
“Just as well,” Macy remarked. “It’d be right embarrassing if Daddy’s fraternity rejected you.”
“Oh, wait.” He smiled. “I just thought of a frat house I might actually pledge: Who Kappa Cares?”
Rhiannon almost spit out her food laughing.
“Still think you’re a comedian,” Macy remarked. “How’s that working out for you?”
“It keeps me regular,” he replied. “Hey, I bet you’re in a sorority.”
“Jealous?” Macy replied with raised eyebrows. “Changing the subject, have you seen Edward today? I think I recall y’all having a few choice words the last time you bothered to show up.” She smiled. “I haven’t seen him today and I so hated his having to miss last year’s reunion. He’s always been my favorite cousin.”
“Oh, yeah, Mr. Man-Bunned Beta Boy. I’ve seen him riding on the back of his girlfriend’s little motor scooter.” Oliver observed with a smile as Rhiannon bit her lip but still could not keep from laughing.
“Still Mr. Snide, huh, Ollie? I should pity you, but you make it kinda’ hard.” Macy then turned to Rhiannon who looked at her plate hoping to be left alone.
“So how are you doing, Miss Rhiannon?” Macy asked. “Enjoying school? We didn’t know whether you’d be able to join us this year. Been anywhere interesting of late?”
Oliver wished Macy was a man so he could throw his plate at her. The sardonic smile on Macy’s face as she looked at Rhiannon made him livid, but he decided to channel his anger. Rhiannon looked at Macy with unreserved contempt but, before she could answer, Oliver spoke.
“Still a proud virgin, Macy? At the last one of these I attended, you bragged quite a bit about that. Of course, you were still in high school, and I imagine things have changed quite a bit since then, huh?” Rhiannon smiled at Oliver and then Macy.
“There’s our true Ollie,” Macy declared, now angry and upset she had lost her composure. “You know, maybe the real reason you’re so bitter is staring right at you in the mirror. Ever think about that?”
After a pause, he replied, “I think we live on a small blue-green planet in an obscure solar system of a minor galaxy, and you need a really strong laxative.”
Rhiannon laughed openly and Macy quickly picked up her plate to move to another table as other cousins in the room either smiled or frowned at Oliver.
“Wow,” Rhiannon remarked as she turned to him. “I’ve just witnessed not one but two verbal smackdowns. Bravo, Oliver.”
Oliver savored a rush of endorphins enhanced by the admiration of his new favorite cousin.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” Rhiannon said to him in a soft voice.
“After what she said to you, if she were a man, I’d a-slugged her.”
Rhiannon smiled at him for several seconds before eating again. Other than her parents, she was hard pressed to recall the last time someone had stood up for her like that, and she reflected that this was already the best reunion ever.
After the guests finished eating, many gathered in the den to watch an annual Thanksgiving football game on TV.
“Are you going to watch the game?” Rhiannon asked Oliver as they threw away their plates in the kitchen.
“I don’t cotton to watching brain damage, much less cheering it on,” he replied.
“I’m not a fan either,” she noted.
“If I thought Uncle Lewis and Cousin Gideon might tangle again, I’d hang around,” Oliver stated, “but they seem to be scrupulously avoiding each other. I guess Aunt LaDonna gave them strict orders.”
“Too bad. I was hoping for more fireworks,” Rhiannon added.
“Me too. But looking at the backyard gives me an idea. How’d you like to go in the woods where we all used to play and head to the river where we fished and swam years back? I used to love all that growing up, but haven’t been back there in years.” He looked at her hopefully.
“Let’s do it,” she enthused.
Amidst the cacophony of conversations echoing through the house, they quietly went out the back door and walked across the yard into the woods where they soon found the old trail leading to the river. With most of fall behind them, each step brought the crunch of dried leaves. For the first time since they met late that morning, there was no chatting between them as each scanned the trees while inundated with memories of playing Capture the Flag and war games.
Soon they reached the river bank where they had fished and swam as children. The big white pine tree on the water’s edge still had an old tire hanging from a large limb, and Oliver climbed onto the tree trunk stretched out over the current. He turned and offered his hand to Rhiannon who took it to climb carefully onto the trunk and sit beside him with their feet dangling just above the water.
The river was embraced by a variety of trees and bushes on both sides. The pair marveled at how quiet the place was, in contrast to all the other times they had been there in the company of so many children.
“I wish there was a place like this where I live,” Rhiannon remarked.
“Me too,” Oliver agreed. “This is the way to get through family reunions. Arrive just in time to eat and then come here.”
“It works for me.”
After absorbing their surroundings, they each looked down at the water. There was another silence and neither knew how to proceed. Finally, Rhiannon spoke.
“I guess your mom told you where I’ve been lately. From Macy’s remarks, I reckon everyone knows.” She sighed and looked in the distance.
Touched she would broach the topic with him, yet not wanting to say the wrong thing, Oliver finally decided he would just be honest, ever more confident she would understand what he meant if his words came out wrong.
“Folks wish you all the best, Rhiannon. Mom told us to be extra nice to you since she heard you’d had a really rough time lately.”
“Is that why you’ve spent time with me today?” She looked at him.
He looked back at her, blinked, and thought a couple of seconds.
“No. It’s been right fun hanging out with you. In fact, it’s a sure smiler knowing there’s at least one other person at these events who’d rather be someplace else – and you get most of my jokes.”
She chuckled as she leaned back a little, resting her hands on the tree trunk.
“Are you feeling better these days?” Oliver asked looking at her.
After a pause, she turned to him. “Yes. I got the help I needed and I am doing better. Not great, but definitely improved. I’m on medication now, and the shrink says I may need to take it the rest of my life, which kinda’ sucks but, if it helps, so be it.”
“That’s great if it makes you feel better,” Oliver offered. “So what if you have to take some pills?”
When she didn’t answer but stared at the water, he hesitated before reflecting she had shared far more than he had and concluding he could trust her. Mainly, he wanted to help her feel better.
“You think you’re remotely the only one at this dinner taking nerve pills?” He turned to her.
“No. Just maybe the youngest.”
“I’ve been on anti-depressants since I was fifteen,” he stated quietly.
She looked at him and blinked a couple of times as he returned her gaze before looking at the limbs above.
“Have they worked?” She asked, still looking at him.
After a pause and now looking at the water, he answered.
“I don’t want to kill myself as much. I sleep better. Things just don’t seem as bleak, or at least not as often.”
“That’s good,” she said softly. “It’s the same with me. They’re not a cure but seem to help me get through the day better.”
“Same here.” He turned to her and nodded.
“You see a shrink too?” She asked.
“Yep. Once a week.”
“Beat you,” she chuckled. “I see mine twice a week.”
“I was seeing mine twice a week.” He smiled.
“Maybe we just need to be like Aunt Madina and share all our problems with whoever will listen,” she stated before chuckling again.
“Only narcissists complain about their lives to others,” he declared looking down river. “The truly troubled stay quiet. We know if we ever frankly shared our woes, we’d be abandoned to boot.”
The smile left her but she continued looking at him as he stared at the water. He regretted sharing that last thought and hoped he had not soured their time together.
“I wouldn’t abandon you,” she stated.
He felt as if his whole body was hypnotized and recalled how much he used to enjoy a warm bath. His head felt dreamy and he wished the sensation would never leave. When he turned to Rhiannon, she held his eyes and soon smiled. He decided not to think but just follow his instincts.
When he moved toward her mouth, she extended herself to him before their lips met. He delicately cupped her shoulders and she embraced him. Since neither had much experience kissing, they traversed each other’s mouth slowly. After a while, he peeked to see her eyes remained shut and quickly closed his as well. When it felt like they had been kissing a long time, he gradually withdrew his tongue and smiled. She smiled back and took his hand. He thought he felt the slightest tremor in hers. Rhiannon leaned her head on his shoulder and put her arms around his waist as he placed his left arm around her and leaned his head atop hers. They did not say anything for some time, content to gaze at the water.
Rhiannon could not remember when she had felt this tranquil and desperately wanted the feeling to last. How she had longed to find someone other than her parents and psychiatrist in whom she could confide. She had even stopped dreaming of finding a romantic soulmate. Whatever became of this relationship, she was grateful for the moment and did not want to say or do anything to lose it.
Oliver never imagined anything like this could happen today, and he had long had little hope of ever finding a girlfriend. It was liberating to feel so connected to someone, and all the more remarkable with someone he had never known well or thought of romantically. Neither of them said anything for a long time, but neither felt uncomfortable. Then Oliver smiled.
“Hey, we are second cousins, right? So this is legal in this state, correct?” He said just before laughing. She grinned at him.
“I’m already ahead of you, Oliver. We are second cousins indeed. So there’s nothing remotely smacking of incest.”
“Good to know. Thanks. You know, it might be advisable to get off this limb. If we went back to the reunion drenched, that could prove a little awkward.”
“I definitely hear you, Cuz.”
“Um. Maybe we should stop calling each other that,” he requested.
“Agreed.” She giggled.
Unable to think of anything to say, and suddenly seized by the fear that they might not meet again for another year, he kissed her more passionately than before. She responded in kind and they held each other a long time. When he began to stroke her hair gently, she could only recall her mother doing that and worried she would cry. Noticing the lengthening shadows, Oliver looked at his watch to confirm it was now late afternoon when the guests would be leaving, including his family. He showed his watch to her.
“I hate – and God knows I really do – to end this,” he sighed, “but folks may start looking for us if we don’t head back soon.”
“Right.”
He carefully stood and helped lift her up, after which they held hands as they walked back into the woods. Soon she had his hand in both of hers and leaned into him. They embraced and followed the trail together, each marveling at how much prettier the woods seemed.
Just prior to reaching the edge of the woods within sight of Aunt LaDonna and Uncle Mooney’s house, Oliver spoke.
“If we don’t want tongues to wag, now’s the time to let go of each other.”
“Indeed. I think we’ve got enough on our plates without that as well,” she added.
“But if you’ll please give me your phone number, I’ll text you mine.”
“Sure. Thanks,” she replied.
He put his arm around her again, took a picture of them smiling, and texted it to her. They walked into the backyard before entering the house to find most guests had already left. When Macy walked by and saw them enter the backdoor together, she wrinkled her brow and slowed down to look at them. Rhiannon gave her a grand grin, prompting Macy to look away and pick up her pace.
“There you are,” Rhiannon’s mother commented to her daughter with relief. “I was starting to worry about you, dear. We’re all set to leave.”
Oliver’s family was ready to go as well and had begun to wonder where he went. When it was time to say goodbye, there was a brief awkward moment before Rhiannon and Oliver hugged.
On the ride home, Rhiannon’s parents were delighted to see their most troubled child look out the window smiling.
In the Thompson family car, Dorinda turned around to see Oliver looking content surveying the landscape.
“Aside from that unfortunate business between Uncle Lewis and Cousin Gideon,” his mother declared, “what a delightful reunion, and I want to thank everyone for being so sweet to Aunt Madina and especially to Cousin Rhiannon. Oliver, I even saw you give her a goodbye hug. That was so sweet of you, dear. Bless her heart. She could likely really use a friend.”
“As could I,” he responded.
“Well,” his mother concluded with a contented smile, “it sure was a fun family reunion.”