“Come in, let me take your coats.”
The apartment was quiet except for the sound of the kids finding chocolate turkeys. “I guess we’re the first to arrive.” He snuck a peek at his watch. He’d made sure to arrive fifteen minutes late so this wouldn’t happen.
“I thought we’d keep it intimate this year,” Maureen said. “Just us for a change.”
“Oh … great,” he said. At least there would be booze. He watched Nicole’s stunned expression and knew she was having the same thought.
After cocktails, they moved into the dining room, which was covered in a somber mauve on mauve wallpaper that matched the upholstery on the dark wood furniture. The chunky crystal chandelier loomed over them ominously. They sat at their seats, leaving Ellie’s chair empty. Maybe Maureen secretly hoped Ellie would show up, too.
Sean nodded enthusiastically to a waiter in a white shirt and bowtie who was offering to refill his wine. The guy came to the apartment every year to cater the event. Ten years and Sean had no idea what his name was or what he did with the rest of his Thanksgiving. The waiter felt Ellie’s absence, too, Sean was sure of it.
He thought about the Thanksgivings growing up in Troy. Their dad used to chase them around the yard with a loaded hockey stick playing shoot the turkey. That was the only Thanksgiving ritual Sean could remember. After a few years, his mother got bored with turkey. One year she made a Thanksgiving curried goat and another year she made something she called Thanksgiving Surprise, which made everyone gag, so they ordered pizza. They sat around the TV eating pizza and laughing, saying they were thankful for playing cards, toothpaste, and Wacky Packs.
“Come on,” he called to the kids who were playing Life in the hallway. “Dinner.”
He watched Toby get up, look toward the front door expectantly, then come to the table, shoulders slumped. Across the table, he caught Nicole sucking down her third gin and tonic. If she started on a fourth, all bets were off.
“So, Sean, how are you and Toby getting along?” Dick asked. “We haven’t seen you boys in a while.” Dick wore his white hair combed slickly to the side like a boy on his way to church.
“Great,” he said. Dick probably didn’t want to hear about how Toby had almost disappeared into the night with his Spiderman suitcase and a pound of Halloween candy, or that he missed his mom so much he was sleeping with her old night shirt. He didn’t want to know that Sean had no idea how to deal with whatever Toby was going through at school. “Everything’s great,” he said again, this time with a presidential tilt of his head he’d seen Bush use on TV once.
“Splendid,” Dick said jovially. He sported a blue blazer with brass buttons and suspenders embroidered with wild turkeys. “I think you’ll enjoy the bird this year.” Dick puffed his chest. “It’s a fine specimen. Chased this guy a quarter mile before I finally nabbed him.”
Dick fancied himself a hunter and had joined a private Millbrook club to prove it. Twice a month throughout the fall, he drove out to the Mashomack Preserve to shoot at quail and pheasant that had been raised specifically for the purpose of being killed by Dick and other members of his tax bracket.
“And what about you, young man?” Dick turned to face his grandson. Toby pulled at the neck of last year’s button-down.
“Good,” Toby said.
“That’s not too convincing, son,” Dick said. “Tell me about school. What wonderful things is my alma mater filling your head with?”
Toby shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” he exclaimed.
Why couldn’t kids just play along? Sean had prepped Toby on easy answers to questions just like this. “We’re doing money in math class” or “I’m learning how to make découpage in art” could have gotten him off the hook with minimal effort.
“Well I happen to know that is a lie, young man,” Dick said. “If there’s one
The apartment was quiet except for the sound of the kids finding chocolate turkeys. “I guess we’re the first to arrive.” He snuck a peek at his watch. He’d made sure to arrive fifteen minutes late so this wouldn’t happen.
“I thought we’d keep it intimate this year,” Maureen said. “Just us for a change.”
“Oh … great,” he said. At least there would be booze. He watched Nicole’s stunned expression and knew she was having the same thought.
After cocktails, they moved into the dining room, which was covered in a somber mauve on mauve wallpaper that matched the upholstery on the dark wood furniture. The chunky crystal chandelier loomed over them ominously. They sat at their seats, leaving Ellie’s chair empty. Maybe Maureen secretly hoped Ellie would show up, too.
Sean nodded enthusiastically to a waiter in a white shirt and bowtie who was offering to refill his wine. The guy came to the apartment every year to cater the event. Ten years and Sean had no idea what his name was or what he did with the rest of his Thanksgiving. The waiter felt Ellie’s absence, too, Sean was sure of it.
He thought about the Thanksgivings growing up in Troy. Their dad used to chase them around the yard with a loaded hockey stick playing shoot the turkey. That was the only Thanksgiving ritual Sean could remember. After a few years, his mother got bored with turkey. One year she made a Thanksgiving curried goat and another year she made something she called Thanksgiving Surprise, which made everyone gag, so they ordered pizza. They sat around the TV eating pizza and laughing, saying they were thankful for playing cards, toothpaste, and Wacky Packs.
“Come on,” he called to the kids who were playing Life in the hallway. “Dinner.”
He watched Toby get up, look toward the front door expectantly, then come to the table, shoulders slumped. Across the table, he caught Nicole sucking down her third gin and tonic. If she started on a fourth, all bets were off.
“So, Sean, how are you and Toby getting along?” Dick asked. “We haven’t seen you boys in a while.” Dick wore his white hair combed slickly to the side like a boy on his way to church.
“Great,” he said. Dick probably didn’t want to hear about how Toby had almost disappeared into the night with his Spiderman suitcase and a pound of Halloween candy, or that he missed his mom so much he was sleeping with her old night shirt. He didn’t want to know that Sean had no idea how to deal with whatever Toby was going through at school. “Everything’s great,” he said again, this time with a presidential tilt of his head he’d seen Bush use on TV once.
“Splendid,” Dick said jovially. He sported a blue blazer with brass buttons and suspenders embroidered with wild turkeys. “I think you’ll enjoy the bird this year.” Dick puffed his chest. “It’s a fine specimen. Chased this guy a quarter mile before I finally nabbed him.”
Dick fancied himself a hunter and had joined a private Millbrook club to prove it. Twice a month throughout the fall, he drove out to the Mashomack Preserve to shoot at quail and pheasant that had been raised specifically for the purpose of being killed by Dick and other members of his tax bracket.
“And what about you, young man?” Dick turned to face his grandson. Toby pulled at the neck of last year’s button-down.
“Good,” Toby said.
“That’s not too convincing, son,” Dick said. “Tell me about school. What wonderful things is my alma mater filling your head with?”
Toby shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” he exclaimed.
Why couldn’t kids just play along? Sean had prepped Toby on easy answers to questions just like this. “We’re doing money in math class” or “I’m learning how to make découpage in art” could have gotten him off the hook with minimal effort.
“Well I happen to know that is a lie, young man,” Dick said. “If there’s one
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