“Look, we have turkey. This is our stuffing.”

“Those are Cheetos.”

He shrugged. “Okay, it’s magical stuffing, then. This, of course, is our macaroni pie.”

Sara couldn’t seem to help the smile dawning on her face. “That’s macaroni and cheese. We had that last night.”

“These are our sweet potatoes.”

“Those are those gross yogurt-covered pretzels Mom brought home.”

“You never eat sweet potatoes anyway, right?”

“Tommy.”

He pulled a chair out for her, now totally acting the part of the host and the cook. “I got you sweet tea to drink. And just wait for dessert.”

Sara sat down and then asked for some mustard.

“You put mustard on turkey?” he joked with her. “That’s a new one.”

She laughed as he put the mustard in front of her.

“What if I could magically make this actually turn into a Thanksgiving feast?”

“That’d be awesome,” she said.

Thomas sat down and then closed his eyes and held his breath. He held it as long as he could, turning red and feeling a little dizzy.

When he opened them again, Sara was looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

“What are you doing?”

“I tried,” he said. “Nope. Can’t do it.”

The moment of her amusement had passed and now she was starting to grow cool and above it all again.

“Okay, look—let me pray for this. Our wonderful meal.” Thomas closed his eyes and began, “Dear Jesus, thanks for this food, and thanks for our family. Please be with Mom as she’s working. Help her to have a good, uh—a great day, and bless us. And just help—just be with Dad wherever he is. Amen.”

As he opened his eyes, Thomas took a couple hot dogs and started eating before noticing his sister.

“What now?” he eventually asked.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Say what?”

“Say that. About Dad.”

He shrugged, finishing the bite he just took. “I don’t know.”

“He’s not our dad anymore, you know.”

“Can’t change that,” Thomas said. “I figured best thing to do is to pray for him. Maybe it’ll help.”

“You really think so?”

Thomas nodded and took another big bite.

They finished the four hot dogs in just a matter of minutes. When they did, Thomas and Sara stared at each other.

“Okay, I’m still hungry,” Sara said.

The macaroni and cheese had gone untouched. Both of them were sick of macaroni and cheese.

“You know—I do have a little money stored away for an emergency,” Thomas said. “Think this is an emergency?”

“I’ve been hungry all day.”

My li’l sis, the drama queen.

“Okay. Fine. But only if you promise to cheer up.”

Headed for Two Giant Glaciers

Sometimes being an adult was about faking it, and that was what Kevin was doing with this turkey. He’d never officially been responsible for cooking one before. It was one of the duties he’d taken over from Jenny so she could avoid doing too much work for Thanksgiving dinner. As he leaned over the island in the middle of the kitchen with the electric knife in his hand, he hoped it wouldn’t end up like that turkey in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. The movie was a standard in the Morrell household during the month of December, so he didn’t want to hear any references to a gasping turkey letting out its final breath because of his poor cooking.