His exhaling laugh tells me he doesn’t believe me. He starts a loping stride forward. “Seriously, though, did you think we wouldn’t invite you for Thanksgiving?”
No, but it’s such a family-based holiday . . . even knowing how welcome I am in Jack’s family, I couldn’t let myself be fully confident I’d be invited. It would be too devastating if I weren’t, and had to face the mockery of the holiday I’ve had every year. “You could have plans to travel somewhere,” I say, in a partial truth.
I see his breath in the air. “Nah. Mom likes working at the diner the day before and the day after. She gets a lot of tips from people stopping in between shopping trips. And she loves cooking the feast in her own kitchen too much to go somewhere else. She pulls out all the stops. A giant turkey, stuffing, three kinds of pies.”
A true Thanksgiving feast . . . my mouth waters thinking of it. My parents only make it home for Thanksgiving every few years. Uncle Remington pays a catering service to bring dinner for us whether they come home or not, but it’s never turkey and mashed potatoes and pies. It’s salmon and caviar and truffles. There’s a lot of good food. It’s just not therightfood. It’s never been the rightday.
This year will be different.
We finish our jogging route and return to the fountain. Jack pulls a banana from his bag and wordlessly gives me half.
“Bring one for me?” a boisterous voice calls a minute later, as Jack finishes his half.
Seth jogs closer and stops in front of us, grinning.
“If I’d brought two Eli and I each would’ve gotten one,” Jack says. He wraps the peel in a tissue and stuffs it in the side pocket of his backpack.
Seth flicks his floppy hair from his face. “Real friends share.”
“Yeah, bad jokes. When you start sharing food, I will too.”
“We should,” I murmur.
I feel Jack and Seth’s eyes on me and realize I said it out loud.
“Thanksgiving’s coming up this week.”
“Yep,” Seth says slowly. “Just realize it?”
I stand up. “No, but your question about sharing food got me thinking. Don’t some people do a Thanksgiving with friends?”
Seth’s grin widens. “Elliot James, now you’re talking! Friendsgiving, here we come!”
“We can invite everyone on the team!” Jack says, jumping upright. “We’ll all make something—well, I might need help to make something, after last time . . .”
“How have we never thought of this before?” Seth asks. “It’ll be glorious!”
“I can hear you from the parking lot,” Fred says, jogging over. “What’s got the two of them so energized?” he asks me.
“A beautiful idea our blooming social butterfly had,” Seth says before I can answer. “Friendsgiving!”
Fred raises an eyebrow.
Seth tilts his head. “That’s all the idea gets? A raised brow?”
“I’m thinking. Try it sometime.” Fred slowly nods. “You know, I think we can make that work pretty well. Most of the guys are staying local for the break.” He smiles at me. “Great idea, Elliot.”
Fred’s quiet confidence seeps into me as easily as Seth’s exuberance, and knowing they both support the idea, I believe them. Jack bumps against me affectionately.
“You still have work today, right?” Fred asks Jack.
Jack nods.
“Then we better get to practicing, if we want a few minutes to start planning before you leave.”
“Let’s make this practice a little more interesting,” Seth says, rubbing his hands together. “The two of you against the two of us: upperclassmen versus underclassmen. Losers have to get a turkey.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Fred says.
