The Liverly

XV

The smell of Thanksgiving invades the whole house, creeping into every crevice and under every door to remind us all that good food cometh. Because of the odd feasting time, none of us have eaten, and we're all starving and mildly cranky by the time the meal is ready.

Ms. Husby and Tyrell set all of the food out on the table in nice dishes, precut or served so all we have to do is grab a hunk of whatever is in the bowls in front of us and pass them on. Aliyah and I set the table with silverware and plates for everyone whole napkins sit on either end of the table for those on those sides to grab them as needed.

Caleb chooses a spot and sits down, the blisters on his hands making it impossible for him to hold much of anything without excruciating pain, let alone carry a plate of turkey meat. Ms. Husby has made us two casseroles—squash and broccoli with cheese on the top—mashed potatoes, warm rolls, turkey that looks like it's to die for, and what she calls turkey potatoes—they're the potatoes that sat under the turkey while it cooked. Tyrell grabs the bowls of cranberry sauce, and we sit down for Ms. Husby to give thanks and then to begin handing the platters of food back and forth until everyone is content.

I settle for two rolls, the turkey, and the turkey potatoes. I've never been a huge fan of Thanksgiving food as I can't stand casseroles and mashed potatoes are a personal affront to me (why would you even want to mash potatoes? They're perfect already.). Once we're all served, Ms. Husby looks around, surveying her subjects, and smiles with the look of the happiest mother alive. We are her adopted children.

"We've never had quite so many before, have we, Caleb?" she asks amid the sound of chewing.

"Not of people we know. You like inviting strangers. I'm surprised you didn't this year."

I raise my hand. "I think I fill that quota."

Everyone laughs and goes back to eating until Ms. Husby says, "I'd like to do something new this year. Let us go around the table, and everyone say what they're thankful for from this year."

Caleb groans, and she shoots him a sharp look, but he winks.

"Who would like to go first?" she asks.

Silence answers her, as does it to anyone who asks that question.

"Very well," she says. "I'm thankful for this family that God has given me. You are the children I never had, and I'm proud to be here with you."

She looks at Tyrell to her right. He hurriedly finishes chewing and takes several gulps of water before saying, "I'm thankful for my family and friends," he nods to each of us, "and for the fact that I'm doing well in my classes. I was worried for a few weeks," he laughs nervously.

Caleb's next, and his answer is short and sweet. "I'm grateful for Karen for taking me in and putting up with my crap every year, my friend Tyrell who does the same, and my new friend, Gwen. May we have many adventures."

"Here, here!" Tyrell shouts, raising his glass in toast.

They all look at me, and I fidget. Caleb reaches under the table and gives me hand a light squeeze. I don't squeeze back for fear of hurting him. "I'm thankful for all of you. For you, Ms. Husby, for giving me a home. To you, Tyrell, for making me feel so welcome here, and you, Caleb, for listening when I need to talk." I look over at Aliyah and smile. "And for my new friend and drawing buddy, Aliyah. I've never had a drawing friend before."

Aliyah beams and launches into her list. "I'm thankful for my family, except Tyrell who is a complete pain in my butt. And you guys for being so nice, and God for making food taste so good, and Ms. Husby for cooking the food, and Gwen for teaching me how to draw, and my dog for being a great pet—"