“Thanksgiving go OK?” queried Mel. “Tamales, dumplings, or turkey? What did you finally end up eating?”Tracy shrugged. “A little of everythi...g, even turkey.” Then she went silent, staring into the back yard, a hand snaking out to hold Mel’s. Something was wrong but he had grown smart enough to know to wait, to hang back, and it didn’t take long for Tracy to lean in to his shoulder and say, “Somebody brought up the friends, you know, when my mother was in rehab. Kind of put my mother on the. ”“Nope,” one of the girls said. “Grandma doesn’t put dinner on the table until around seven each night. Since we turned fourteen, she lets us go out where we want as long as we are washed up for dinner on time. Mom hates it, but what can she do? If she is going to dump us off on Grandma when she goes off on business, then too bad.”I thought Paula was going to say something else, but the other girl dropped under Paula to start licking her expertly. The boy just moved behind his sister to push. More

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