“WE’RE HERE!” MAEVE CALLED CHEERILY, LETTING IN A GUST OF CHILLY November air, but before she could even get the door open, the lanky yellow Lab tethered to her wrist pushed his way in and galloped down the hall, towing her along. Laughing and trying to keep the still-warm pumpkin pie in her hands upright, Maeve tumbled into the kitchen. “Happy Thanksgiving!” she said, laughing breathlessly.
“Hi, Maeve!” Harper said, hopping off her stool to give her a warm hug.
Macey watched Harper’s exuberant greeting and then held out her hands, palms up, feigning dismay. “I must be a potted plant.”
Maeve laughed, set her pie on the counter, and gave her sister a hug. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mace!”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Macey replied.
“Is this Gus?” Harper asked, her arms around the big puppy slobbering her with wet kisses.
“It most definitely is,” Maeve confirmed as he and Keeper wiggled around each other. She produced two bottles of wine from her bag, held them up, and smiled at her sister. “Want these in the fridge?”
“One can go in the fridge,” Macey said, rummaging through her kitchen drawer. “But one can be opened right now.” With a triumphant smile she pulled out a corkscrew. “Would you do the honors?”
“Of course,” Maeve said, taking off her coat and draping it over a chair.
“You wore your shirt!” Harper exclaimed.
“Of course I wore my shirt!” Maeve said, holding it out by the hem. “We gingers have to stick together!”
“We do,” Harper agreed. She looked at Macey. “Macey, you should get one, too.”
“Maybe I will,” Macey said, surprised but pleased to be invited to join their ginger club and thankful she’d remembered to text her sister. She opened the cabinet and took out two wineglasses. “Where’s Gage?”
“Outside, talking to Ben,” she said, pouring a glass of chardonnay and handing it to her. “Where are Mom and Dad? They’re never late.”
“They are today. Mom insisted on making just about everything,” she said. “She lets me host, but she still wants to bring half the side dishes . . . and the apple pie, of course! Ben is thankful for that, though—he loves her apple pie.”
“Hello! Hello!” A voice boomed from the front porch which triggered the self-appointed welcoming committee to hurry down the hall. “Well, hello to you, too!” they heard the voice say.
“Hi, Dad!” Macey called, hurrying after the dogs to see if he needed help. She unburdened him of the box full of warm dishes he was carrying, and gave him a hug.
“Does Mom need help?” Maeve asked, coming up behind them.
Hal gave his younger daughter a hug. “I think Gage and Ben are bringing everything else in.” He knelt down between the two wiggling dogs to give them a proper greeting and looked up at Macey.
“It’s nice of you to host, sweetie, but, honestly, I think it would be easier if we just had it at our house—your mother brought half the kitchen over!” He shook his head and then spied Harper standing in the doorway. “Hey, there’s my pal.”
Harper smiled shyly. She had met Macey’s parents on a couple of occasions already, and although she liked them, she found Mr. Lindstrom’s gregarious personality a little intimidating, and Macey had had to ask her dad to be a little less vivacious until Harper got used to him. So with Macey and Maeve looking on, Hal pulled the two dogs close and made them sit.
“What do you think of these two rascals, Harper?” he asked, and Harper nodded approvingly. “Macey tells me you’re a dog lover, too. . . . Is that true?” Harper nodded again, and he smiled. Then, out of the blue and without prodding or invitation, she ran into his arms and gave him a hug.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” he said softly, looking up at Macey and winking, but she just shook her head and laughed—Harper was full of surprises!
They heard Gage and Ben coming through the kitchen door, and then Ben calling out, “Mace, where do you want all this food?”
“It’s piping hot,” Ruth called from behind them. “If the turkey’s ready, we can just eat.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom,” Macey said, coming into the kitchen and giving her a hug. “The turkey is ready, but I still have to make gravy, so we’ll just keep everything warm in the oven for a few minutes, is that okay?”
The petite silver-haired woman looked dismayed. “Okay,” she said reluctantly.
“Relax, Mom, it’ll still be hot,” her daughter assured her.
Ruth nodded, and then realized Harper was watching and tried to make light of it. “Don’t mind me, Harper!” she said, giving her a hug, “I just like my food hot!” She laughed at her own eccentricity. “Happy Thanksgiving! How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Harper answered softly.
Maeve brought Gage over. “Harper, this is my boyfriend, Gage.”
Harper nodded, studying Gage’s boyish face and blue eyes as she politely shook his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Gage said. “Maeve tells me you’re quite the artist.”
She nodded.
“I’d love to see your artwork sometime.”
“Okay,” she said, a smile lighting her face.
“Gage likes to draw, too,” Maeve explained.
Harper nodded, her hand resting on Keeper’s head. “I can go get some right now, if you want,” she offered hopefully.
“That would be awesome,” Gage said.
“Okay! I’ll be right back,” she said. “Keep, you stay here,” she added, gesturing with her hand, and then hurrying excitedly up the stairs. When she got to her room, though, she could barely catch her breath.
“Go away,” she pleaded, leaning against the door and rubbing her chest with her fist as tears filled her eyes.
“Please, go away,” she begged. “I don’t want to have surgery . . . I don’t want some stranger’s heart.”
A few minutes later, Maeve called up the stairs. “We’re having snacks, Harp. You coming back down?”
Harper wiped her eyes. “Yes,” she called back. “I’ll be right there.”
THAT EVENING, AFTER THE LEFTOVERS HAD BEEN DIVIDED UP AND SENT home with Hal and Ruth, and Gage and Maeve, Harper curled up on the couch between Ben and Macey to watch an old movie—a favorite of Macey’s, but one Harper had never seen.
“Hey, they’re just like us when Gus is here,” Harper said after the movie started, nodding in the direction of Big Mac and Keeper, who were curled up together in front of the fireplace.
“It is just like us,” Macey agreed.
“Except, I don’t know if Keep could make such a long journey on three legs,” Ben mused, standing up to add another log to the fire.
“I think he could,” Macey said.
“Maybe,” Ben said, still sounding skeptical. He sat down and lay his arm along the back of the couch.
Macey had always loved the movie, Homeward Bound, about two dogs and a cat making a long journey home, and she’d often dreamed about sharing it with her own kids someday, but as she watched it now, with Harper, she found it hard to focus on the screen. She found herself listening to the little girl’s laughter during the funny scenes and feeling surprise when her small hand gripped hers during the scary ones. As the movie reached its climactic end, Macey was pulled back to the present, though, by the sound of the hapless dog, Chance, shouting, “Turkey! Turkey! Turkey!” and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“What do you think, Harp?” Ben asked. “Could Keep make a journey like that?”
“Definitely,” she said. “He loves us too much to give up!”
Macey smiled. “Having love like that is probably what got him through having surgery and learning to get around on three legs.”
Harper nodded thoughtfully and then wrapped her arms around his neck. “Is that true, Keep?” she asked, and the big dog swished his tail and then gently pushed his noble head into her chest, making her laugh.