“Aaaah!” Hanni shrieked, racing into the kitchen with her brother at her heels. “Dieter! Stop it!”
“Tag! You’re it!” Dieter shouted, crashing into the table and making the bowl of cranberries teeter as he grabbed at his sister’s arm. “Now you have to catch me, or you’ll have cooties forever.”
Lisa grabbed the cranberry bowl just in time to stop it from falling, quickly pushing it to safety in the middle of the table. She grimaced as she did so—she’d never realized that cooties were an international problem. That thought was almost enough to make her smile—until she glanced over at Evelyn, who looked outraged.
“You two!” Evelyn cried, clapping her hands sharply. “Enough! We’re trying to cook Thanksgiving dinner in here, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, Thanksgiving,” Dieter said in a sarcastic tone, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Ja, that is one of their American holidays.”
Hanni giggled. “They make them up because they don’t like to go to work so much, right?”
“Right,” Dieter confirmed with a sidelong glance at Lisa and Evelyn.
The noise had awakened Lily from her nap, and she started to wail. Evelyn, still white-faced and angry, hurried over to pick her up.
Mr. Atwood and Peter poked their heads into the room. “Hey, what’s all the commotion about in here?” Mr. Atwood asked, raising his voice slightly to make himself heard over Lily’s cries.
Evelyn frowned. “It’s nothing,” she replied shortly. But as she turned away, Lisa heard her mutter, “This just isn’t the way I pictured our first family Thanksgiving.”
Lisa gulped, glancing around quickly, but no one else seemed to have heard the comment. Yikes, she thought, feeling stranger than ever. She peeked at her stepmother, who was crooning over Lily as she comforted the baby. I wonder if she was only thinking about Greta and her kids when she said that. Or maybe I wasn’t supposed to be here this Thanksgiving, either. Maybe to Evelyn, I’m just another person getting in the way of her perfect family Thanksgiving. Sort of like Greta and her kids are to me here, or like Rafe would be if I were back home.
She gulped, feeling a knot form in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly she didn’t have much of an appetite for turkey and cranberries. And she certainly didn’t see a whole lot to be thankful for just at the moment.
So why are we even bothering, then? she wondered, glancing around the room. Evelyn was lowering Lily into her crib. Lisa’s father and brother were wandering back toward the living room after stealing a few handfuls of pretzels from a jar on the counter. Dieter and Hanni were bickering with each other in German as they left the room. Greta apparently hadn’t heard any of what had just happened, because she was still nowhere in sight. Lisa sighed. Why are we bothering with Thanksgiving dinner at all? Because this is starting to feel like a really pathetic joke.
TWELVE
“And Deborah says her editor okayed the byline,” Stevie said excitedly, grabbing her napkin off the table and dropping it across her lap. “Isn’t that cool? I’m going to be part of a real byline!”
“Gee, Stevie,” Alex said sarcastically as he took his seat at the dining room table. “Do you think you could use the word byline a few more times? I think you may be close to breaking a record for using the same word, like, a million times in one day.”
Their older brother, Chad, grinned good-naturedly. “Give her a break, man,” he said, clapping Alex on the back. “It’s not every day our little Stevie gets her name in the paper.”
Stevie glared at him but decided to let the “our little Stevie” comment pass. “Whatever,” she said breezily. “I know Alex is just jealous because I’m leaving him in my dust once again. Not only am I smarter and better-looking than he is, but now I’m going to be published, too.”
Their mother looked up from tossing the salad and laughed. “Okay, Stevie,” she said. “Enough with the self-promotion, okay? It is Thanksgiving, after all.”
“Yeah,” Michael muttered from his seat across from Alex. “And I’ll be thankful if Stevie shuts up anytime this decade.”
Just then Mr. Lake appeared in the doorway, carrying a large platter holding an even larger roasted turkey. “Okay, gang,” he sang out. “The main event is here. Hope everyone’s hungry!”
The entire family let out a cheer. “Let’s get this show on the road!” Alex exclaimed, grabbing his fork.
“Not so fast, buddy,” Mr. Lake said, setting the turkey on the table. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Michael rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Family tradition. Giving thanks.”
Mrs. Lake looked amused. “That’s right,” she said. “It’s time for us all to take a moment to remember all the things we have to be thankful for. Who wants to start?”
“I will,” her husband said, settling himself in his seat at one end of the table. He cleared his throat and glanced around the table. “First of all, I’m thankful for my health. And for my job—no matter how much I may complain about the hours. But most of all, I’m grateful for my wonderful, special family—every one of you. My beautiful, talented, intelligent wife; my three terrific sons—yes, even you, Michael, so you can stop rolling your eyes—and of course my soon-to-be-published daughter, Stevie.”
Stevie grinned and stood, taking a bow. “Thank you, thank you.”
“I’d be thankful if Stevie would sit down and stop bragging,” Michael muttered.
Mrs. Lake smiled. “Does that mean you’re going next, Michael?”
Michael grimaced, but he sat up a little straighter. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Um, I’m thankful that I have my own room so I don’t have to listen to Alex tell Lisa how beautiful she is on the phone all the time. And I’m thankful for my new headphones that I got for my birthday. And for getting Ms. Franklin for math this year instead of nasty old Mrs. Karl.” He shrugged. “That’s about it, I guess.”
Stevie smirked. “I’m thankful that Michael will only be thirteen for one year.”
“Stevie,” Mrs. Lake said warningly. “All right, I’m next. I’m thankful, as always, that we are all here together, happy and healthy. And also for the wonderful adventures, important choices, and learning experiences we’ve all had throughout this past year, which have brought us to this point in our lives.”
Stevie traded a glance with Alex, wondering if their mother was thinking about that party and their grounding. She probably was.
“Me next,” Chad said. “I’m grateful that I got all the classes I wanted this semester, and that they changed the requirements so I only have to take two levels of Spanish. Also that my nutty roommate Zeke transferred to Florida State so there’s no chance I’ll be stuck living with him again.” He grinned. “Oh yeah, and I’m thankful for my family—even my crazy fame-seeking sister.”
Stevie grinned. Before she could say anything, Alex raised his hand. “All right, don’t get her started again!” he exclaimed. “I’ll go next. I’m thankful for this family, and for my great friends and my girlfriend, and that I passed my English lit test last week. Also, I’m really thankful that Mom and Dad didn’t keep Stevie and me grounded until graduation—even though I totally know we deserved it. Thanks, guys.”
Mr. and Mrs. Lake nodded, looking pleased. “All right, Stevie,” Mrs. Lake said. “That leaves you.”
Stevie shrugged. “Well, of course I second what Alex just said about being grounded,” she said. “And I’m thankful for this family. And for Carole and Lisa, the best friends in the world. And for all my other friends, especially Callie and Scott and A. J. And of course for Phil. And for Belle, and all the other horses at Pine Hollow, especially Topside and Starlight. And for Max and Deborah and the kids, and for Red and Denise and the rest of the gang there at the stable, and for being able to ride there. Oh yeah, and also for good old Bear.” She paused long enough to pet with her foot the family’s golden retriever, who was napping under the table.
Meanwhile, Alex began making soft tick tick tick noise
s under his breath. Stevie ignored him.
“And while I’m at it,” she went on, “I should probably say a word of thanks that I got Mr. Knight for homeroom. And that I’m finally starting to get the hang of trigonometry.…”
“Is this going to be wrapping up anytime soon?” Michael broke in. “I’m starving.”
“Just a minute,” Stevie told him. “Let’s see, I should also remember to be thankful for my trip to California last summer to visit Lisa. And for rainbows. And of course for fluffy little kittens—”
“All right, Stevie,” Mr. Lake interrupted. “Let’s wind this up before the turkey dries out and crumbles into dust, okay?”
“No problem, I’m almost done.” Stevie smiled apologetically at her father. “Just one more thing, okay? I’m especially thankful that I’ll be starting my fabulous career as a world-famous journalist tomorrow with my byline in the Washington Reporter.”
Everyone groaned in unison. Then they dug into the delicious meal. When everyone had a plateful of turkey, potatoes, carrots, green beans, cranberries, and Mr. Lake’s secret-recipe chestnut stuffing, the conversation turned back to Stevie’s article.
“You know, Stevie, we’ve all been teasing you about this byline thing,” Mr. Lake said. “But seriously, you know we’re proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Stevie said.
Chad speared a glazed carrot on his fork and shrugged. “Yeah, but we shouldn’t be totally surprised that she’s discovered journalism,” he pointed out. “I mean, think about it. She’s got everything it takes to be a reporter.”
Stevie blinked at her older brother in surprise. “Really?” she said. “Thanks, Chad.”
Chad shrugged. “Hey, it’s the simple truth,” he said. “I mean, think about it: You’re nosy, opinionated …”
“A busybody,” Alex added helpfully. “Stubborn.”
“Persistent,” Mrs. Lake put in.
Stevie pretended to be annoyed for a second, but then she gave in and grinned. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “I really do have a perfect personality, don’t I?”
“Oh, that reminds me. I forgot to mention one thing I’m thankful for,” Alex said through a mouthful of turkey and potatoes.
“What’s that, son?” Mr. Lake asked.
Alex grinned. “I’m really thankful that you two didn’t let Stevie help with the cooking this year.”
“Where is everyone?” Evelyn sounded frantic as she stirred a small bowl of applesauce and set it on the table beside a plastic plate of succotash in front of Lily’s high chair. The baby let out a squawk and reached for the bowl with her chubby arms, but it was just out of her reach. “If they don’t hurry up and get in here, everything will get cold.”
Lisa stuck a serving spoon into the bowl of cranberry sauce and glanced toward the kitchen entrance. The hall was empty, but she could hear the television in the living room and Dieter and Hanni arguing with each other somewhere nearby. “I’ll go see if I can round them up,” she offered.
Taking one last glance at the table, she hurried out of the room. At least the food looks great, she thought. That’s something to be thankful for, I guess.
She returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, dragging Hanni and Dieter by the arm. “Okay, I found two,” she told Evelyn breathlessly. “The others will be along soon. Dad and Peter say there’s only a minute left on the clock in the football game, which means they should be here in, like, half an hour. And Greta just wants to make one last phone call before it gets too late in Switzerland. Or is it too early?”
She paused, trying to remember whether the European time zones were ahead of the American ones or behind them. But before she could remember, Evelyn let out a frustrated little yell.
“Is it too much to ask that everyone just get to the table on time?” she cried, wiping one sleeve across her forehead, which was beaded with sweat from the heat of the oven. “I can’t believe this. It’s Thanksgiving!”
Dieter and Hanni, who had just slid into seats at the table, turned to stare at her in surprise. Lisa wasn’t sure what to say. Evelyn seemed really upset. It’s no wonder, Lisa thought, if she was expecting some kind of traditional, to-Grandmother’s-house-we-go kind of family Thanksgiving.
“I’m sure Dad and Peter will be in any second now,” she said helplessly, glancing over at the table just in time to see Dieter sneaking a large piece of avocado out of the salad bowl near his place. She winced, hoping Evelyn hadn’t seen. “Um, and you have to remember, Greta doesn’t really understand the whole Thanksgiving thing.”
At that moment, Lily let out a piercing squall and started rocking back and forth in her high chair, her arms still waving toward the bowl of applesauce. “Oh no.” Evelyn looked as though she, too, might start bawling at any moment. “Poor Lily. It’s way past your lunchtime, isn’t it?” She sighed and glanced at her watch. “I think I’m going to have to go ahead and feed her. So much for our family dinner.”
Dieter and Hanni exchanged glances. “Does that mean we can start, too?” Dieter asked.
“Yeah,” Hanni put in. “I’m hungry!”
“No!” Evelyn snapped as she hurried toward the baby. She shot the older kids a disgruntled look. “Just sit there until your parents get here.”
“He’s not our father,” Dieter muttered under his breath. But he didn’t really sound angry. As Lisa watched, he turned and made a face at his sister. Then, when Evelyn turned away to get Lily’s juice bottle out of the refrigerator, his hand shot out and grabbed two more avocado slices out of the salad. He popped one into his mouth and handed the other to Hanni, who ate it with a giggle.
Lisa smiled, then walked over to help Evelyn with the baby. “Here, I’ll hold the juice,” she offered, knowing that Lily often knocked the bottle off the high chair tray while she was eating.
“Thanks.” Evelyn shot her a grateful look. “Thanks a lot, Lisa. I’m glad you’re here, at least.”
Lisa couldn’t help wondering if she really meant that. Evelyn was so cheerful and upbeat most of the time that it was often hard to tell what she was thinking. And Lisa realized that she usually didn’t even bother to wonder about it. “So,” she said hesitantly. “Um, I guess this isn’t quite the way you planned to spend Thanksgiving this year, huh?”
Evelyn gave her a rueful half smile as she spooned another bite of applesauce into Lily’s mouth. “Not quite,” she admitted, sitting back as Lily reached for her bottle and Lisa held it for her. “Last year at this time I was hugely pregnant, so your father just grilled turkey burgers and got takeout potatoes from the supermarket.” She sighed. “This year, I wanted to make up for that with a nice traditional meal. I’ve been planning this dinner for a month.” She waved one hand at the impressive spread.
Lisa winced as Dieter drew his hand back from the salad bowl just before Evelyn looked toward him. “Well,” Lisa said, sitting back as Lily pushed the bottle away and reached again for the applesauce, “at least the food is traditional, right?” She hesitated. “Though I guess it would be a lot nicer for you if all us extra people weren’t here.”
Evelyn glanced up at her in surprise, almost missing Lily’s mouth with the spoon. “What?” she said. “No, Lisa. Don’t be silly.” She bit her lip and stared at the baby, who had just grabbed a lima bean off her plate and was gazing at it with obvious delight. “Hmmm. Well, actually, now that you mention it, I guess I am a little overwhelmed by all this. I mean, it’s always nice to have you here, and it means so much to your father to see you. But …” Her voice trailed off as she glanced briefly at Hanni and Dieter, who seemed to be arguing in German. “Well, let’s just say that when I dreamed of getting married and having a family, I never realized it could be so … complicated.”
Lisa nodded. “I know what you mean. I never thought my family was perfect or anything, growing up, but it was still a huge shock when … you know.” She broke off, suddenly feeling awkward talking to her stepmother about her parents’ marriage.
But
Evelyn looked sympathetic. “It must have been really tough for you,” she said as she leaned over to pick up a lima bean that Lily had just thrown on the floor. “Especially when your dad and I met so soon after he moved out here. And then we got married and had Lily not too long after that.… Well, all that can’t have helped.”
“Maybe,” Lisa admitted, realizing for the first time that it was true. “I mean, you’ve always been so nice to me. I definitely didn’t want to, you know, blame you or anything. Especially since my dad didn’t even know you when he left Mom. But—”
She broke off again, not exactly sure what she was trying to say. It was weird to think that all this time, she’d been avoiding this exact conversation. Trying to pretend that everything was fine and dandy because it seemed easier than dealing with what she was really feeling. But maybe it was harder to keep it all inside and never deal with it at all.
Before she could figure it out, she heard heavy footsteps hurrying toward the kitchen. A moment later Peter and Mr. Atwood burst in, their faces flushed. “Yee-ha!” Peter cried. “Our guys won!” He traded a high five with his father before taking a seat at the table.
“Mmm,” Mr. Atwood said as he took his place. “Everything looks fantastic, honey.”
Evelyn smiled, quickly wiping a spot of applesauce off Lily’s face before straightening up. “Thanks.”
“Sorry I am late,” Greta said, striding in at that moment. “Please, I hope you were not waiting for me.”
“Don’t worry,” Evelyn said graciously. “Peter and Richard just got here. Have a seat, Greta.”
When they were all seated, Mr. Atwood cleared his throat. “Before we start, I think we ought to say a few words of thanks.” He smiled at Greta and her kids. “I don’t know how much you know about Thanksgiving, but it’s traditional to take a moment before the meal to remember some of the things we take for granted in everyday life—family, friends, our health.” He turned and surveyed the people seated around the table, his gaze resting on Lisa, then moving on to Peter, Lily, and Evelyn. “And I guess I’m especially lucky this year, because all the most important parts of my life are sitting right here at this table.”
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