a
normal
Thanksgiving, but not us.”
“Well,” Ms. Cantu explains, “there’s no way four people can eat a twenty-pound turkey by themselves. Plus, quiche is a great
way to get eggs into the menu.”
“But I’m sick of eggs, Mom!”
I have to take Vanessa’s side on this one. I really like to eat weird stuff, but not on Thanksgiving. Couldn’t Ms. Cantu make
the quiche another day?
Once we’re all seated, we hold hands to pray. “
Gracias, Señor…
,” Ms. Cantu begins. Then we eat.
My dad doesn’t taste the quiche right away because he hates trying new things, especially new foods. But after a while, he
takes a bite and then another, and then he gets a second serving.
“This is delicious,” he says. And he’s right. Everything’s delicious, even the quiche, believe it or not.
While we sit around the table and pat our bellies, my dad says, “
Panza llena, corazón contento.
A full belly means a happy heart,
verdad
?”
“Very happy,” we all say.
“I’ve got something else to make you smile.” Ms. Cantu goes to her room and comes back with a DVD. “Here’s a little Thanksgiving
present,” she says to Vanessa. “It’s the first season of
Ugly Betty.
Want to watch it?”
“Do I want to watch it? What kind of crazy question is that?”
Vanessa hugs and kisses and dances around her mom.
“
Mucho cuidado
,” Ms. Cantu says. “I’ve got a broken leg, remember?”
My eyes are as greedily big as Vanessa’s. We
love
that show.
“You can watch it in your room if you’d like,” Ms. Cantu says.
We go to Vanessa’s room where I plop on the blue beanbag and wait for Vanessa to set up the DVD player. But she doesn’t set
it up right away.
“I’ve got to show you something,” she says. She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a Target bag. “Remember when I went to
Target with Carlos last weekend?”
I nod. I’ve been wanting to ask about her “date,” but she’s been so busy with soccer after school. And in the mornings, my
dad’s been driving us since he has to chauffer Ms. Cantu around. So every time I’m with Vanessa, someone else is with us too.
This is the first time we’ve had some privacy.
“After Carlos and I picked our supplies for the project,” she explains, “we had some time to kill, so we walked around, and
I saw this.” She opens the bag and hands me a picture frame.
“It’s the Silver Fox!” I say.
“No, it’s some model dude. Don’t you see the $2.99 in the corner?”
I look, and, sure enough, there’s a big yellow $2.99.
“So that’s why the picture seemed cut off,” I say.
“The Silver Fox is a phony,” Vanessa cries. “A big, fat phony! He’s got to be
really
dorky to put a fake picture into the system.”
I know she’s upset, but I can’t help laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she says.
“You’re mad at a guy who’s a fake when the whole time, you’ve been a fake too. I mean, he doesn’t even know your mom exists.”
“I guess you’re right,” Vanessa says, sinking onto her beanbag. “At least things are getting better around here. My mom’s
been really sweet since she’s been getting those letters. She wore regular clothes one day and cooked regular food. She even
stopped complaining about my dad.”
“So the secret admirer notes are working?”
“So far, so good,” she says.
Vanessa puts the DVD in the player, so we can watch
Ugly Betty.
But something about a big Thanksgiving dinner and the sun going down puts us to sleep. We don’t open our eyes till the ending
credits roll.
It’s dark outside, and when we get to the dining room, it’s dark in there too with only the candles and the light from the
kitchen doorway. There’s an empty wine bottle on the table, a second bottle half-empty, and the strangest sound coming from
the stereo.
“What are you listening to?” Vanessa asks.
“That’s what I’ve been wondering all night,” Dad says.
“It’s a didgeridoo,” Ms.
normal
Thanksgiving, but not us.”
“Well,” Ms. Cantu explains, “there’s no way four people can eat a twenty-pound turkey by themselves. Plus, quiche is a great
way to get eggs into the menu.”
“But I’m sick of eggs, Mom!”
I have to take Vanessa’s side on this one. I really like to eat weird stuff, but not on Thanksgiving. Couldn’t Ms. Cantu make
the quiche another day?
Once we’re all seated, we hold hands to pray. “
Gracias, Señor…
,” Ms. Cantu begins. Then we eat.
My dad doesn’t taste the quiche right away because he hates trying new things, especially new foods. But after a while, he
takes a bite and then another, and then he gets a second serving.
“This is delicious,” he says. And he’s right. Everything’s delicious, even the quiche, believe it or not.
While we sit around the table and pat our bellies, my dad says, “
Panza llena, corazón contento.
A full belly means a happy heart,
verdad
?”
“Very happy,” we all say.
“I’ve got something else to make you smile.” Ms. Cantu goes to her room and comes back with a DVD. “Here’s a little Thanksgiving
present,” she says to Vanessa. “It’s the first season of
Ugly Betty.
Want to watch it?”
“Do I want to watch it? What kind of crazy question is that?”
Vanessa hugs and kisses and dances around her mom.
“
Mucho cuidado
,” Ms. Cantu says. “I’ve got a broken leg, remember?”
My eyes are as greedily big as Vanessa’s. We
love
that show.
“You can watch it in your room if you’d like,” Ms. Cantu says.
We go to Vanessa’s room where I plop on the blue beanbag and wait for Vanessa to set up the DVD player. But she doesn’t set
it up right away.
“I’ve got to show you something,” she says. She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a Target bag. “Remember when I went to
Target with Carlos last weekend?”
I nod. I’ve been wanting to ask about her “date,” but she’s been so busy with soccer after school. And in the mornings, my
dad’s been driving us since he has to chauffer Ms. Cantu around. So every time I’m with Vanessa, someone else is with us too.
This is the first time we’ve had some privacy.
“After Carlos and I picked our supplies for the project,” she explains, “we had some time to kill, so we walked around, and
I saw this.” She opens the bag and hands me a picture frame.
“It’s the Silver Fox!” I say.
“No, it’s some model dude. Don’t you see the $2.99 in the corner?”
I look, and, sure enough, there’s a big yellow $2.99.
“So that’s why the picture seemed cut off,” I say.
“The Silver Fox is a phony,” Vanessa cries. “A big, fat phony! He’s got to be
really
dorky to put a fake picture into the system.”
I know she’s upset, but I can’t help laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she says.
“You’re mad at a guy who’s a fake when the whole time, you’ve been a fake too. I mean, he doesn’t even know your mom exists.”
“I guess you’re right,” Vanessa says, sinking onto her beanbag. “At least things are getting better around here. My mom’s
been really sweet since she’s been getting those letters. She wore regular clothes one day and cooked regular food. She even
stopped complaining about my dad.”
“So the secret admirer notes are working?”
“So far, so good,” she says.
Vanessa puts the DVD in the player, so we can watch
Ugly Betty.
But something about a big Thanksgiving dinner and the sun going down puts us to sleep. We don’t open our eyes till the ending
credits roll.
It’s dark outside, and when we get to the dining room, it’s dark in there too with only the candles and the light from the
kitchen doorway. There’s an empty wine bottle on the table, a second bottle half-empty, and the strangest sound coming from
the stereo.
“What are you listening to?” Vanessa asks.
“That’s what I’ve been wondering all night,” Dad says.
“It’s a didgeridoo,” Ms.
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