I whipped off the apron, washed my hands, filled them with water, and kind of tossed it on my hair, aiming for what effect I couldn’t say.

“Hi,” he said, and walked, smiling, into the kitchen. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Look what Sean brought us,” Francine said, hefting a colorful, foil-wrapped chocolate turkey that I recognized from the window display of the candy shop next to the Blackbird.

“Wow,” I said. “That is…a big turkey.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s solid.”

“It is?”

“Not hollow.”

“Right.”

Why was it so weird being together with Francine in the room?

“Okay,” he said. “Well, I’m off to meet Mom and fifty of our extended family at the ferry. Oh, and, Muir? My mom wants to meet you. Soon.”

“Tell her it’s mutual!”

“Give your mom my love,” Francine told him. “Tell her I have a ton of eggs for her.”

“I will.”

“I’ll walk you out,” I said.

On the porch I kissed him as long as would not be suspicious, and then Terry Johnson came out to bark that it was time to wrap it up.

“I brought you these,” he said. “Is that stupid? If it’s stupid, use them for a centerpiece or something….” A bouquet of wildflowers, in November, on a national holiday, when all the flower shops were closed.

“Where did you find them?” I inhaled. Alpine. Mount Rainer meadow flowers.

“Mom is friends with a nursery owner midisland. Please don’t worry, Mom’s really nice, and meeting her doesn’t mean we have to get married.”

I smiled and sighed with relief. God, he gets it.

“I mean. Unless you want to.”

“All right, pal,” I said. “Take that show on the road to the ferry.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.” One more kiss and he drove away, and I waved, Terry Johnson watching with bland disapproval.

“You’re just jealous,” I said, and carried him into the house and up to my room, where I put the flowers in a jam jar of water on the dresser beside my books.

—

Later, at Kira’s house, I met her dad, who was as kind and welcoming as her mom, and her brother, Ryo, whose face scarcely left his Nintendo screen and was not at all awkward-looking, so I had no idea what Francine was talking about. Her parents did the whole Go around the table and say what you’re thankful for routine, and I realized that I had so many things to catalog I could not believe it. Kira being my friend. Francine’s kindness, her warm home with the bedroom that felt less lonely every day. Salishwood. When my turn came, I feared I would cry on my green beans and was so afraid to say some of the things I really meant, so I said only: