For the first time in 3 years, I spent Thanksgiving with my husband David Kingston. I didn’t give it much thought. 1926 was a doozy of a year and it just felt natural after all we’d been through—Baby June’s murder, my kidnapping and near murder. It just felt right to pull close to the warmth and security of David’s unwavering love. Besides, he bought me a gorgeous fur to wear to the 3rd Annual Urban League Charity Ball. We were the best looking couple there and danced the night away. After eggs and Bloody Mary’s at Benson’s, we stayed in bed all day and I almost managed to sleep.