To Build a Home

Thanksgiving Traditions

CHAPTER 9: YOUTH

Mike was aware of the fact that Thanksgiving was rapidly approaching but he hadn't really given much thought to what the holiday would entail this year. As a little boy he would always go with his parents to a homeless shelter very early Thanksgiving morning and they would help out and serve breakfast. Then they would go home and Mike, his dad, and his grandpa would watch football on the couch while his mom and Grammy cooked in the kitchen. They would have a huge meal and watch Christmas movies on the couch until late at night (Mike's dad had usually wound up carrying him to bed). Although it had always been a very small, quiet holiday for the Ross family it had always been one of his favorites. In his darkest moments of grief after his parents' and grandfather's deaths, he had clung to the memories of love, warmth, and security surrounding Thanksgiving.

He had spent the first Thanksgiving after his parents' deaths with the Jensens where he had sat numbly on the couch staring silently at the wall for hours as his many foster siblings ran around and wrestled in the dirty, overcrowded house. When he had been called to help put supper on the table, one of the other kids had bumped his arm and he had dropped a china dish of mashed potatoes and broken it. He was sent to bed without dinner and cried himself to sleep (he remembered thinking that it was fortunate that Mr. Jensen was so drunk or he would have gotten a walloping on top of being denied supper). Needless to say, it had not been the most cheerful of times and he cringed to even think about it now. The two subsequent Thanksgivings with Grammy had been uneventful— they had slept in instead of going to the shelter (too many memories) and they had had a quiet meal by themselves, talking endlessly to try and fill in the gaping empty spaces that had previously been sealed up with family and happiness.

But Thanksgiving with Harvey on the other hand...well, he really had no idea what to expect. Would Harvey want to go out of town to visit his family? Would Harvey ship him off to spend the day with Grammy? Maybe Harvey would just go into Pearson Hardman on Thanksgiving— he seemed the type to work on the holidays. Mike was contemplating this so deeply one afternoon in Harvey's office that he didn't notice Harvey approach nor did he see the football that Harvey threw at him until it hit him in the arm and bounced onto the glass coffee table.

"Ow! What the hell was that, Harvey?" He yelped indignantly, rubbing his upper arm. It didn't really hurt because Harvey had tossed it from about five feet away, but it had still taken him by surprise.

"It's called a football, genius. And you're supposed to catch it, like any other projectile that's headed right for you," Harvey sighed.

"I know what a football is, Harvey," Mike protested. "What I meant was 'why did you just throw a football at me in your precious office where you yell at me on a daily basis for passive activities like eating yogurt or putting my feet up on the table?' It just seems like a bit of a double-standard to tell a guy that he can't eat a pudding cup on the leather couch and then to chuck a football at the same guy in an office that has glass windows."

"You've got a fair point there," Harvey replied thoughtfully. "If you throw that thing in here I'm sure something will be irreparably damaged. Come on, grab your coat. Let's go," Harvey grabbed his own jacket and made to leave the office. Mike remained stationary on the couch, staring at Harvey blankly.

"You know, you have this terrible habit of assuming that I can read your mind and understand exactly what you want me to do and why you want me to do it, but I actually can't," Mike said conversationally.

"Alright, smartass. Very funny, now come on," Harvey said in exasperation. He picked up Mike's coat and thrust it into his arms, all the while impatiently tugging him into a standing position. "I'll explain when we get there."

Mike knew that Harvey would keep harassing him until he did what the older man wanted, so he resignedly followed his guardian to the car. Harvey stopped by the bathroom in the office lobby on the way and changed into jeans and a fleece sweatshirt, much to Mike's utter amazement. He had seen Harvey dressed casually plenty of times at the apartment but had never seen him go out in public without a suit on.