When

I eyed her hopefully, but Donny was shaking his head. “Thank you, Cora, that’s very kind of you, but we couldn’t.”

 

 

“Why not?” I snapped. My uncle could be such a stubborn pain in the butt sometimes.

 

Donny looked sharply at me. “We don’t impose, Maddie.”

 

“Oh, but it’s no imposition!” Mrs. Duncan insisted. “Maddie’s a lovely girl, and frankly, I’m an old woman who could very much use a bit of company and a reason to get out of my old house.”

 

I smiled gratefully at her before turning back to Donny. “Please, Donny? I’ll call you every day to let you know I’m okay.”

 

Donny tugged again at his tie. “I still feel like it would be too much of an imposition.”

 

“Oh, bah,” Mrs. Duncan said with a wave of her hand. “Maddie’s a wonderful girl. She’s no trouble.”

 

I almost laughed. I’d been nothing but trouble the past few weeks.

 

Donny sighed, then nodded and tried to put on a good face. “All right, Cora. Thank you. Thank you very much. I’ll take Maddie for Thanksgiving and bring her back on Monday morning.”

 

“You’ll do no such thing!” Mrs. Duncan said, clapping the table with her fingertips and giving him a broad smile. “You’ll come to my house for Thanksgiving. I insist.”

 

“Aren’t you going to your daughter’s house?” I asked. Mrs. Duncan always spent Thanksgiving with one of her daughters.

 

“No,” she said, lifting her chin a little, and I could see it was to cover the hurt in her eyes. “Janet’s not very happy with me at the moment. We’ve decided to spend the holidays apart and give each other some space. And Liz is spending the day with her in-laws, so unless you two want to let an old woman spend Thanksgiving alone, you’ll come over and keep me company.”

 

I turned back to Donny. I knew that without the invitation from Mrs. Duncan, Donny and I would spend the next day at some restaurant where the turkey was dry, the stuffing tasteless, and the mashed potatoes lumpy.

 

“Okay,” Donny relented with a smile of his own. “But I’m paying for the groceries.”

 

 

 

 

 

MRS. DUNCAN COOKED ENOUGH FOOD to feed an army, and we ate like kings. It was the best Thanksgiving I could remember since before my grandma died. Well, besides the fact that I tried to call Ma at the jail, but I was told she wasn’t feeling well enough to come to the phone. That really bummed me out, but Mrs. Duncan assured me that once my mom had a few days of rest we’d be able to talk. I knew she really meant once Ma got all the alcohol out of her system, she’d be well enough to come to the phone.

 

Donny spent the holiday with us, but early Friday morning he told me he had to get back to the city for an emergency with one of his clients, leaving me with a day to fill the best I could.

 

Feeling bored, I looked out the window and saw that Mrs. Duncan’s yard was still covered with leaves. Wanting to pay her back for all the kindness she’d offered us, I headed downstairs and rummaged around in the garage for a rake and one of the big plastic garbage cans that we used to put the leaves into when we used to care about having a neat and tidy lawn.

 

Pulling the rake and the bin over to Mrs. Duncan’s house, I got to work. She came out after about a half hour. “Oh, my!” she said from her front porch, her hands clasped together over her chest as she beamed at me. “Maddie, what’re you up to?”

 

“I’m getting up some of these leaves for you, Mrs. Duncan,” I said.

 

“Well, aren’t you sweet?! Have you had lunch?”

 

“I’m not hungry, ma’am,” I told her. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to rake every single last leaf up off that lawn and make it look pristine.

 

“When you’re ready for a break, dear, come inside and I’ll fix you a hot turkey sandwich, all right?”

 

I nodded and kept raking. I was a raking machine.

 

“I’m expecting some furniture today,” Mrs. Duncan added before going back inside. “The truck should be here soon. Tap on the window when you see them, will you, dear?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” I promised.

 

The furniture truck rumbled up shortly after that, and by then I’d cleared a nice path to the front door.

 

Rick Kane got down off the truck and came over to me with a broad smile. “Hey, there, Maddie,” he said. “Happy Thanksgiving to you.”

 

I stopped and wiped my brow. “Thanks, Mr. Kane. You, too.”

 

He gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Hey, call me Rick,” he said, and put his hands on his hips, surveying my efforts. After giving the lawn an appreciative whistle he said, “You’re hauling some major butt here, girl. You on a mission?”

 

I grinned. “Mrs. Duncan’s been really nice to us lately, and I wanted to pay her back some for looking out for me.”

 

Rick cocked his head at me. “You okay, sweetie?”

 

There was something in his kind face that undid me a little. “Yeah,” I said, quickly looking away. “Ma’s been having a tough time, and Mrs. Duncan’s been watching out for me while Ma gets herself together.”

 

I bit the inside of my cheek before I could say anything more. Why I was telling this total stranger all our troubles, I didn’t know. Rick was simply a really nice guy. The kind of guy I imagined my dad would’ve been if he lived to be Rick’s age. Also, Rick didn’t have long to live—maybe that’s why I’d confided in him. All my secrets would die with him.

 

He squeezed my shoulder again. “That’s rough, Maddie. I’m sorry.”

 

I swallowed hard and shrugged. “It’s okay.”

 

“Rick!” his partner called. I saw that he’d already opened up the back of the truck.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rick said, his voice thick with irritation. “Coming, Wesley.” Thumbing over his shoulder he said to me, “Wes gets his panties in a wad if he thinks he’s gonna have to lift something heavy by himself.”

 

That made me smile.

 

“How about today, Rick?” Wes complained, disappearing into the back of the truck.

 

Victoria Laurie's books