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My cheeks heated and my gaze fell to the ground. It was odd to be approaching strangers in this way, with my hand holding onto Mr. Blackbourne’s and Dr. Green escorting me with his arm. Would the people of this neighborhood think it strange? But I held firm, wanting to please them both.
“Do those shoes fit properly?” Mr. Blackbourne asked as we walked. “Will you be okay in them for the evening?”
“She’s spent all day walking in them already,” Dr. Green said. “I’d be more worried about blisters around her toes.”
“I’m fine,” I said in a small voice. We were getting closer to the group of people around the tables. They’d started to break up a little and a couple of them were looking toward us. None of them seemed surprised to see us, or at least they didn’t seem suspicious as we approached.
Mr. Blackbourne leaned toward me and whispered, “No need to be anxious.” He rubbed a thumb across the side of my palm, and I realized I was grasping very tightly to him in my nervousness. “We’re all friends here.”
I tried to relax my grip on him and Dr. Green. It was tempting to let go and try to appear casual, however, their support strengthened my own courage. The breeze blew gently across my face, allowing my cheeks to cool. I tightened my lips, forcing a friendly smile, but allowing the men to speak.
A thin black woman stepped forward ahead of the others. A yellow bandana on her head held back her relaxed curls. One lock had been left in front, dark strands to dancing around her face in the breeze or as she moved. She wore tidy tan slacks and a yellow blouse. She smirked directly at Mr. Blackbourne, a hand on her hip. “About time you all got here,” she teased, her voice was soft and feminine, but confident. “The men want to put all of the tables in a giant square. I told them they’re wasting valuable space by cutting off half the table.”
A man in a dark jogging outfit and sneakers stepped forward. His skin was dark and his features were perhaps Mexican or Puerto Rican. He had a handsome face, with a goatee and neatly-combed, slicked black hair. He rolled his eyes at the woman. “I just thought it’d be better if we sat together, instead of split up between different tables.”
“The kids can sit at their own tables. Give us parents a break,” the woman said. “It’s goddamn Thanksgiving, isn’t it?”
“You mean Thankstaking,” said another man in the group. He had very native features, with long dark hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.
Another woman standing next to him—also native—tugged at his elbow. “You say that every year,” she said, her cheeks pink in her embarrassment. “You can’t keep talking about it.”
“I don’t blame them,” he said. I suspected they were married and when I glanced at their hands, I saw matching wedding bands. “They weren’t here hundreds of years ago. It’s just awkward to be part of a neighborhood Thanksgiving when for us, it really was taking our land.”
The woman pinched his arm, and he winced. “Our land is over there at the end of the block. We paid for it, remember? We choose to be here—today is about community.” She smiled at us and shrugged. “Sorry. Some people just can’t let things go.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the black woman said, waving her hand as she rolled her eyes. “You give us grief every year, but you’re always the one who eats nearly a whole turkey for himself. I’d call that a Takesgiving.”
The others in the group laughed and Dr. Green joined in. I smiled, but held onto Dr. Green as Mr. Blackbourne broke away to address the group. “Let’s focus on setting up a buffet table, so when the food gets here, we’ve got a place to put it. Then we can figure out where you want the seating tables.”
Everyone murmured in agreement, so Mr. Blackbourne pointed out the best spot for the buffet tables. The others worked together to start dragging tables to where he suggested.
I stood by and hoped to stay out of the way. Dr. Green lingered behind with me, a small smile on his face. “They’re a fun group,” he said. “Nice people.”
I nodded, watching them. I gathered they were all neighbors, but counted only six people. I looked around us, at the various homes, and especially the clusters of toys. Where were the rest of them?
Suddenly, I heard shouts coming from one of the houses down the street. Then more from the opposite side, a few homes down.
“What’s going on?”
“The games,” Dr. Green said, turning slightly toward the houses, a small smile on his face. He looked at the homes with a knowing gaze.
“The games?” I asked. I pictured board games, but couldn’t imagine people getting so excited about Monopoly or Trivial Pursuit.
“Football,” he said. “There’s a rivalry. Fans of one team go to one house.” He pointed to one of the noisy homes and then to the other. “And the others go to another house. They’ll come out when the game is done.”
I felt silly for thinking Monopoly. I’d forgotten that other people liked to watch football games on Thanksgiving.
I considered what I might do when those games were finished. They’d all come out here. This was a planned Thanksgiving dinner. More people. My shoulders and stomach tightened. It was hard to relax with so many surprises; a lot to take in during a single day. I drew closer to Dr. Green.
He took up my hand without any hesitation, and then turned me toward Mr. Blackbourne’s car. He did a slow walk towards it, tugging me along. “Let’s unload. Mr. Blackbourne has enough hands to get the tables right. Too many cooks in the street can slow things down.”
I smiled at his strange phrase. He seemed to want to stay out of the way, too. Did he get jittery around people, too? Or was he doing this for me?
Halfway back to the car, his hand drew tighter around mine. The laughter in his green eyes softened to something much more soothing. “You look a little nervous,” he said.
I tilted my head and shrugged, pretending I was better than I really felt. “New people and a new place,” I said. “There’s been a few surprises today already. I’m sorry if I’m acting weird.”
“You’re acting like Sang Sorenson, which is exactly how you’re supposed to be.” He winked at me and squeezed my fingers between his. “I like you the way you are. An introvert. A bit shy. But once we’re by ourselves, you open up. I like that. You’re a little flower, pookie. You bloom when I’m around, which makes me want to be around you more.”
My cheeks heated. I wanted to appreciate his compliments, but the casual way he pointed out my shyness made me feel even more flawed. Was it normal to be so nervous? I used to think I’d be excited to be out among people, curious about what life was like beyond the boundary my stepmother used to set for me.
I slid my fingertips against the skin of his hand, fidgeting. “Everyone else seems so quick to open up to new people. I wish I could be like that.”
“You don’t seem afraid to speak your mind to us when it really matters,” he said. “Don’t be afraid to be yourself. It’s okay to be a shy person. It’s not wrong to be that.” He paused right before we got to the trunk of the car and turned to me. “I hope you’ll tell me whatever you’re thinking.”
I knew he was asking me specifically about my thoughts of learning about his troubles at school. I looked toward the car again, avoiding his eyes, embarrassed to admit my feelings. “I was worried about you,” I said after taking a deep breath. “When the school counselor mentioned you were in trouble, I thought I’d be called in. I never was, though, and no one talked about it. It made me worry something was very wrong.”
He chuckled, but it was forced. “You concerned about me?”
I nodded, still not able to meet his eyes. “That and I’m partially to blame, of course.”
“You shouldn’t be blamed at all,” he said. “Neither one of us should. Well, maybe me a little.”
“We were both in it together,” I said, looking up at him now. The lightness in his smile had diminished. I wanted to hug him, but felt it was inappropriate now in public. Sadly, the incident had made me feel awkward around him and I
didn’t want to get him into further trouble. “I’m the one that got suspension, plus my schedule got changed. I wondered if part of it was because somehow Ms. Wright knew I was involved. Only no one would tell me directly.”
He sliced his hand through the air. “Your suspension has nothing to do with us,” he said. “Sang, you don’t have to worry. Really. We’ve got a family meeting this weekend to discuss all this and our game plan. Mr. Blackbourne didn’t want us to ruin the holiday with talk of school and he’s right; I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
I could understand that, but the whole ordeal had me stressed. It was easy for them, I supposed. Outside of Dr. Green, no one else seemed to be in any real trouble. The boys had volunteered to join me in suspension, but none of their teachers had said a word about it and I wasn’t even sure Ms. Wright noticed. I wasn’t even sure how they got away with it.
Maybe they weren’t her concern. The boys were confident that we would stay in school for now, but I’d be in different classes. How would that work and how could they relax when there were so many things to figure out?
Dr. Green’s elbow nudged me in the arm, forcing me out of my deep thoughts. “I’m worried this new situation has upset you. Has it made things awkward with us?”
