Brenda and I hopscotch all the way home.
By the time we get to the front door, we’re both exhausted.
Sitting down in the kitchen, we open up a box of chocolate-chip cookies.
Brenda says, “I’m so excited. Today, this guy that I’ve had a secret crush on asked me out.”
“What’s his name? What’s he like?” I ask.
“His name is Ken, and he’s really nice,” she says.
“A real Ken doll.” I giggle.
She pretends to bop me with the box of cookies. “He’s cute and smart. He likes a lot of the things that I like. He’s different in some ways, though. He dresses differently.”
It makes me wonder what it means to Brenda when she says someone dresses differently. I hope that I meet this guy sometime.
“Brenda, I have a question.” I smile at her.
“Yes?” She puts a cookie in her mouth.
“Do you think that you’re ever going to cook for him?”
She laughs. “Are you trying to tell me that’s not a good idea?”
I grin. “Maybe you should wait a couple of years until you feed him any of your Tuna Fish Delish.”
Brenda laughs. “He can cook. He and his dad live alone … and I know that Ken can cook. That’s one of the things that I like about him.”
The phone rings.
It’s my father.
He’s calling all the way from Paris, France, just to talk to me.
He sounds so excited. “Amber, honey, I can’t wait to move back and be closer to you. It’s been so hard for me not to see you. We’re going to make up for lost time. Just think, I’m returning very soon, and in just two weeks, we’re going to be able to spend the weekend together.”
“Oh, Daddy, that’ll be so much fun.” I, Amber Brown, am really excited, too.
It’s been a long time since my dad and I have spent much time together.
“Amber,” my dad continues, “just think …. it won’t be long until we spend Thanksgiving together. Maybe we’ll go into New York and watch them get ready for the Macy’s parade.”
“Oh, Dad, that sounds really great,” I say, and then I remember. “Oh, no. Oh, oh….Oh, no.”
“Honey, what’s wrong?” my father asks.
I am afraid to tell my father what I’ve just remembered, but I know that I have to tell him. “Dad, Mom and Max and I are going to Walla Walla. I can’t spend Thanksgiving with you.”
For a minute, there’s no sound from him.
I just hold on to the phone, waiting for him to say something.
Finally, he speaks. “But I’ll just be getting back then. I was really looking forward to spending the holiday with you.”
“Did you tell Mom that?” I bite on my bottom lip.
There’s another silence.
My stomach starts to hurt.
He sighs. “No, I didn’t. She didn’t know. I just figured that I was coming back …. and that you and I could spend the time together. She’s been able to be with you for all of the holidays since I left. I just assumed that we could be together for at least part of the time.”
I don’t know what to say.
I don’t know what to do.
Because he moved to Paris, I’ve never had to deal with this before.
I just don’t know what to say.
Max has already bought the tickets.
I wonder if there is a kind of a dream that is worse than a nightmare. Because that’s what I’m having right now.
If I go to Walla Walla with Mom and Max, Dad’s going to be unhappy.
If I stay here with Dad, Mom and Max are going to be unhappy.
Either way, I lose.
Either way, one of my parents loses.
At least, one of them wins.
But no matter what, I’m going to be the loser.
There’s just no way there’s going to be a “Thanks” in this Thanksgiving.
The only thing that I’m going to be thankful for is when it’s over, and then it’ll be Christmas and I’ll have something else to worry about.
