Father Mayhew signed off on my last six hours of detention. Said I’d done plenty for the community and didn’t need to be serving any more time.
Bernice and the others, though, aren’t going to be getting out of serving their time. Father Mayhew told me that Clarice and Abigail had a fit when they were arrested. Abigail kept screaming, “I’m going to kill that kleptomaniac! You hear me? I’m going to kill her!” And Clarice yelled, “You’re the one who’s always wanting to do one more town. ‘Just one more town! Just one more town!’ ”
He also told me that they’d already traced back at least five towns where the Sisters of Mercy had been on their trek across the country, and it looked like there were lots more. He said in every town they used the same someone-tried-to-break-into-the-motor-home routine, and I guess they did such a good job framing the priest in one town that the poor guy was egged by his congregation as they hauled him off to jail.
Anyhow, Father Mayhew was so happy to get his cross back that he invited Grams and me to have Thanksgiving dinner with him and the real Sisters. And it’s not that I was worried that Gregory would be pushing vegetables on me, it’s just that Holly also called and said that Meg and Vera really wanted me and Grams and Hudson to come to their apartment for dinner, and that sounded like fun.
So Grams cooked up a bunch of rice and baked a couple of pumpkin pies, and I put plenty of marshmallows on when I baked the yams so I could scrape the top and at least pretend to be eating my vegetables, and away we went, to have Thanksgiving dinner above the Pup Parlor.
When Vera brings out the turkey, we all sit around the table, looking at each other, feeling a little strange. Good, but strange. We’re not family, we’re just a bunch of people looking for family. But when Meg hands Hudson the knife and says, “Will you do the honors?” somehow it feels right.
Vera says, “I think we need to take a moment and give thanks.” She looks around the table and says, “Maybe we could each say a few words?” She webs her fingers together, closes her eyes, and says, “Lord, I’m thankful for many things this day. For the food, for the company, but especially for the chance we’ve been given to open our home to Holly.”
After a pause, Meg clears her throat and says, “Thank you, Lord, for all you’ve given us this year, but mostly, thank you for bringing Holly to us.” She starts to say something more, but she can’t. Her chin’s quivering and she’s peeking over at Holly, and Holly’s smiling over her hands at Meg, kind of crying, too.
Then all of a sudden here it is, my turn. And I am thankful. For a lot of things. Mostly, though, I’m thankful for the people in my life that I can trust. For Grams and the way she seems to love me no matter what. For Hudson and how he’s always happy to talk to me and teach me things. For Holly and her digging through trash, and for Meg and Vera and how they take in strays.
And I want to list everything from Marissa and Dot to my high-tops, but I can’t. I’ve got a big lump in my throat. So when everyone looks at me like, Well? what comes out of my mouth is, “I’m thankful that that’s a real turkey and not just a roasting chicken!”
Holly cracks up and then Hudson laughs, and pretty soon Grams, Meg, and Vera are all shaking their heads and chuckling.
And if there is a God and he did happen to be listening, he’s not mad. He knows what I meant, and I bet he’s up there laughing, too.