Threads of Hope: Quilts of Love Series by Christa Allan Page B

her mouth and splat itself on her mother’s forehead. Instead, it coursed through her body and, if someone had struck a match, Nina would have exploded on the spot.

    After Thomas died, the fourth chair at the dining table screamed his absence. It screamed so loudly that for months and months and months, Nina and her parents took refuge in the den where they balanced their plates on television tables and finished their meals in communal silence. Nina looked across the table now at Thomas’s empty chair and between the clicks of forks against the thick white plates, wondered what he would have been like at almost forty. Would they have expanded their table for Thomas, his wife, their children? She almost hoped he couldn’t see them all now. See how they all went on living, but died inside.
    “So, how’s that writing job of yours?”
    Even with one eye on the television, at least her father pretended an interest in her career. However, when her mother figured out that her daughter wasn’t going to be Houston’s version of
Entertainment Tonight
, Sheila thought Nina had justwasted her college education. After Janie’s promotion, it frightened Nina that, once again, her mother might be right.
    Nina started to explain the story about the mayor and his cronies when her mother interrupted to ask if she had a life outside of that job.
    “Yes, of course.” She didn’t add that it mostly centered around Manny. “In fact, Elise, my editor gave me tickets to the We Care benefit. The one that’s held at the St. Regis Hotel.”
    “That fancy one the Houston society people go to? Isn’t it an AIDS thing? And who are you going with?”
    Her mother hadn’t asked her that many questions in the past four dinners they shared. “Since the tickets cost $400 each, I imagine it’s going to be an upscale crowd. As for the ‘AIDS thing,’ the money raised at the benefit goes to local hospices. There’s also a silent auction of quilts made by different support groups in Houston. I read online there’s going to be a display of a section of The AIDS Memorial Quilt.”
    “Seems like if everyone’s paying that much money to attend, you’d be able to see the whole quilt,” her father observed and served himself another slab of lasagna.
    “Well, I’ve done some research. The quilt is not very portable anymore. It weighs fifty-four tons. The article said if you spend just a minute on one panel, it would take over thirty-three days to see the entire thing. I don’t think anyone can stay that long,” said Nina.
    Neither of her parents laughed. Her mother’s lips twisted to the side, which Nina learned in her teens was a prelude to a lecture on being sassy. Her father’s head bobbed and a thin thread of cheese hung from his lips. He looked like an aging redfish that had just swallowed a hook.
And just think, Thomas, you missed all this
.
    Sheila handed her husband a napkin. “You need to take care of that,” she said and pointed to her chin todemonstrate. She looked at Nina. “What are you going to do with that extra ticket? Have someone in mind? Because if you don’t, Lola across the street told me she has a son who isn’t married yet. He owns three fast food restaurants, and he makes a good income.” She stretched the word “good” to two syllables.
    “Then why is he still single?” Lola must be the new neighbor her mother mentioned last month. The one whose furniture didn’t arrive via a moving van, but through a convoy of local furniture store delivery trucks.
    Her mother patted her mouth with her napkin as if her lips would shatter if she pressed them too hard, cleared her throat, and smiled too deliberately for Nina’s comfort. “Well, funny you should ask that because Lola asked the same about you.”

    Not staying for the key lime pie her mother had made shaved about thirty minutes off Nina’s torture time. She rarely ate dessert there anyway because it was usually something she didn’t like. Since her