It’s Thanksgiving Day. Ginger, Dan, and I are sitting at a table on the top-floor open deck of a restaurant called Bud and Alley’s. It’s cool up here with the wind blowing. Heaters have been placed around all the tables, and I scoot as close as I can to the metal coils without getting burned. Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville” is playing over the loudspeakers when the waitress brings out our tray of fish tacos and fried squid. This isn’t the weirdest way I’ve spent Thanksgiving. One year Mom had me singing outside the doors of a Best Buy at midnight to hit up the Black Friday shoppers. We took in a good haul. Folks had a lot of money to burn. But I don’t want to think about Mom right now, or anything really. I focus on my food instead.

I’m squeezing lemon on my fish when Dan raises his hand like he’s in class. “Why don’t we go around and say what we’re thankful for this year?” He’s wearing a gray cardigan over a Hawaiian shirt and his nose is a painful sunburned red. He is the nerdiest, most earnest person I know. It’s a shame I’m going to have to quit his class because I’m too much of a freak to be in school.

“Fine. I’ll start,” he says when neither Ginger nor I speak. “I am thankful for coffee in the morning, crossword puzzles in pen, a newly strung tennis racket, a beautiful wife, and a brilliant niece who got an A on her English essay.”

“Thanks for putting me after the tennis racket,” Ginger says through a mouthful of crab. “All right, my turn. I’m thankful I don’t have to wear heels for five days, for a husband who can reach the top shelf in the pantry, for mocha fudge chunk ice cream, and a niece who reminds me to be brave.”

They look at me, waiting for my thanks. The problem with filling your life with people is that they expect things from you, things like love and gratitude and normalcy. I pick at the skin around my thumb. “Um… I’m thankful for you guys and for the tacos.”

They smile. Dan makes a toast to “the holidays” with his water glass and we eat and it’s fine. It’s really, really fine.

It’s Saturday night. Ginger took me shopping at the outlet mall today. We walked through J. Crew and American Eagle and bought walnut fudge at the chocolate shop. I got a North Face jacket for 75 percent off. It was still too expensive, but Ginger insisted. The shopping was her shot at trying to cheer me up.