Thanks for Nothing (From the Files of Madison Finn, 5) (12 page)

Madison packed up her stuff and wished Dan and his mom a happy holiday. Her own mom was waiting in the car outside.

That night, Madison wrote a quick e-mail to Dan, thanking him for being so nice at the clinic. It was Thanksgiving, after all. She figured that was a good thing to do. Madison found some other e-mails waiting for her.

One was from Fiona. She had left that morning on a flight to California.

From: Wetwinz


To: MadFinn, BalletGrl


Subject: We’re here!!!!


Date: Wed 22 Nov 1:11 PM


I miss u guys already! Boo hoo. Our flight was totally packed with kids. I babysat a little for this one woman’s little girl. She was sooooo adorable.


Oh no, I left my favorite dress @ home but NBD, I’ll live, I guess. Mom said maybe we can shop today for something new.


It’s not that warm here like beach weather, but the sun is shining and it’s way different than Far Hills. I’ve already seen my BFF from here and I ran into this old boyfriend who is a year older. His name is Julio. You would freak, he is so cute. He has a new girlfriend, though—oh, well.


N e way, I am going with Chet to the mall and we’re hanging with his old crowd of friends. I wish you guys could be here. I hope you have a happy Thanksgiving. …


Love and smooches fm. me! Xoxoxoox


p.s. Howz Egg? LOL say hello to him & Drew 4 me.


p.p.s. Let’s go to TweenBlurt and message each other soon.


Madison grinned at the screen and pressed SAVE. That message was a keeper. She was just as thrilled to see a short and sweet note from Bigwheels, too.

From: Bigwheels


To: MadFinn


Subject: Turkeys


Date: Wed 22 Nov 11:52 AM


Long time, no write? I know you’ve been busy, but I miss our notes. Please send news about anything. Have you ever heard this quote: If you want to soar with the eagles, you have to put up with a lot of turkeys. LOL.


I thought you or your dad would like that one.


We’re having dinner with both sets of grandparents, my parents, my sister and brother, and loads of aunts and uncles and cousins. I think I told you TOO MANY PEOPLE. Anyway, I’m nervous to see some of my other cousins because they can be really snotty to me. I don’t know why. I would never treat someone that way. Would you?


Thanks for being my friend at Thanksgiving!


Yours till the potatoes mash,


Bigwheels


After reading both e-mails three times each, Madison went immediately into her files. She had started the year unsure about her friends, but here they were all around her. It was ridiculous to think that she had a whole lot of thanks for
nothing.
Right now, her life was chock-full as Madison’s kindergarten cornucopia Mom had displayed atop the mantel. She was bursting.

Thanks


Rude Awakening:
Good things are like grapes. They come in bunches.


I had a long talk with Dad today about spending Thanksgiving with Mom. He was very cool about it. So now I am actually looking forward to being alone together. I don’t need a million people around to eat turkey.


Mom and I are going to make the pie and stuffing tomorrow. No more surprises!


Things couldn’t be yummier.


M
ADISON ROLLED OVER AND
opened her eyes, thinking it was later than it was. Outside was still dark, just beginning to lighten up. The trees were moving in the wind outside her window.

She sat up and put on slippers and shuffled down the hall to her mother’s bedroom. Phinnie was sprawled on top of Mom’s bed, eyes glistening in the half dark. She climbed up and kissed Mom’s cheek.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom,” Madison said.

Bleary-eyed, Mom awoke with a start. “Maddie, you scared me half to death. I was in the middle of a dream.”

They lay in bed and talked about Mom’s dream and about Thanksgivings long ago, like the time when Mom had to be rushed to the emergency room for slicing her finger while cooking.

“I remember that was really gross,” Madison said. “There was blood all over the counter.”

“It always looks worse than it is,” Mom said. She smiled all of a sudden, and Madison felt self-conscious.

“What? What are you looking at?” Madison said.

“You. You look so pretty in this light.”

Madison made a face. “You mean I look pretty in the dark?”

They laughed and got out of bed.

Mom spent the morning speaking with international clients as she’d been doing all week. They faxed notes to her and important contracts. Mom’s latest project for Budge Films was taking up so much time. Madison wondered why anyone would have to work on Thanksgiving since it was a holiday. Then she remembered that it was only a holiday in America, so everyone else in the world had to show up at work the usual time and place.

Madison figured she’d get a head start working on dinner in the kitchen. She took out the peeler and started peeling carrots into a big bowl. She made a feeble attempt at skinning the sweet potatoes, too, but they were so tough and hard to peel. She needed Mom’s help for those.

While Mom worked, Madison also watched some television, like the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade. When she had been younger, Mom and Dad would sometimes take her into New York City to watch people blow up the giant balloons and floats on the night before the parade started. It was magic to see Big Bird and Spiderman get inflated into enormous, building-sized balloons.

Today Madison watched the balloons on TV only. She curled up into a little ball under Gramma’s afghan on the sofa and counted the number of baton twirlers in every marching band. Next year, Madison would have to ask to go back to the city and watch the parade in person. She didn’t think Mom would go for it, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

As she was lying on the sofa, Phinnie walked by Madison. She called out for him to come over and snuzzle, but he walked right on by.
Again.
Now Madison was starting to take it personally. Or maybe the dog was sick? She worried a little, but not enough to get up and take Phin’s temperature or pet his little nose to see if it was warm when it was supposed to be cold and wet. Instead Madison curled deeper into the couch pillows.

Mom came back into the living room after noontime and announced that her work was completed.

“Let’s call your gramma!” she suggested, grabbing the phone and squeezing in next to Madison on the couch. They dialed the number.

“Hello, there.” Gramma’s voice came across loud and clear.

“Hey, Mother,” Mom said. “It’s me and Maddie. We called to say hello. How’s the turkey in Chicago?”

“Turkey’s been in the oven since seven. Angie and Bob are coming over later today.”

“Mother, I really am sorry we couldn’t make it there. We miss you.”

When it was her turn to speak, Madison grabbed the phone from her mom and shouted into the receiver. “Warm hugs from me, Gramma,” Madison said. “And Phinnie, too.”

Gramma chuckled. “What did you say, dear?” she asked. Madison realized she’d taken out her hearing aid. “You’re finished with who?”

“Oh, nothing, Gramma. We made all your recipes today. Thank you for them. The stuffing is yummy.”

“That’s fantastic. Well, I love you, Maddie, dear,” Gramma said. “Did you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Madison said. “Let me put Mom back on the phone, okay?”

No sooner had the call to Chicago ended than the phone rang again. Madison hoped inside her heart when she picked up the phone that it would be a certain person—and it was.

“DADDY!” she screeched into the receiver.

He was gushing all over the place about missing Madison. He told her that Texas just wasn’t the same without her. The night before, he and Stephanie had been to a steer auction near the family ranch.

“Stephanie lived on a ranch?” Madison asked.

“Yup,” Dad said. “I am now an official cowboy, so watch out.”

Madison laughed.

“Honey, Stephanie was here a moment ago,” Dad continued. “She wanted me to wish you a happy Thanksgiving, okay?”

Madison felt a twinge of sadness because goodbyes with Dad were always the hardest, no matter where she was or what she was doing. Even on the telephone.

With family phone calls out of the way, the dinner preparations started for real around one o’clock. All the vegetables—including sweet potatoes—had been peeled. Madison had mixed the stuffing’s dry ingredients into a bowl. Mom came along and helped pull everything together the best she could.

Mom wasn’t a great cook, but she didn’t mind experimenting. Mostly, she was a bad cook not because she was untalented—it was more like she was too busy. Her job took up so much of her time.

An hour into the cooking frenzy, everything seemed to be going along great. The food was all cooking inside the oven, and Madison and Mom went into the den to watch a little more television.

As soon as Mom and Madison snuggled into the couch, the kitchen smoke alarm went off and they both jumped clear out of their seats. The small drippings from Gramma’s sweet potato pie had set off a burnt, smoky bomb inside the kitchen. The whole kitchen smelled like burning sugar, a funny, sweet smell that made Madison a little queasy.

“The pie is ruined,” Madison said as she carefully pulled on pot holders and rested it on a pie sheet. It was all black and burned around the edges, but Mom set it aside for a special dessert anyhow.

Dingdong.

Madison turned around toward the kitchen sliding door. Aimee was standing outside with a wrapped package, twirling around. “Brrrrrrr!” she said as Madison pulled open the sliding door. “Happy Nonturkey Day!”

Mom laughed.

“You’re still in your pajamas!” Aimee gasped. “I had to get ready early because people were coming over.”

“We’re just hanging out,” Madison said, catching the corner of Mom’s eye.

“You are so lucky, Maddie. I wish I could have a mellow Thanksgiving like you. I have to be stuck at home with my dumb brothers, who are so annoying,” Aimee wailed. “All they do is watch football.”

“I like football,” Madison said.

“Then you hang out with them. I just want to go to the movies or something,” Aimee said. She put a small tinfoil package up on the countertop. “My mom said to give you guys this. It’s a loaf of her macrobiotic apple bread. It’s made with honey and oats or something.”

“That’s very nice, Aimee. Thank your mom for us both.”

“Well, back to my family!” Aimee announced with flair. She twirled her arms into the air. “Ta da! Now you see me, now you—”

She jumped back out the same way she came.

“Call me later!” Aimee yelled through the glass sliding door. She made a goofy face and vanished.

Dinner was half burnt and half cold, but
all
fun. Madison and Mom couldn’t believe that they had actually made any meal as elaborate as Thanksgiving dinner, complete with a Jell-O mold and a bowl of homemade stuffing.

“Does this taste funny to you?” Madison asked when she took a bite of stuffing.

Mom grinned. “Probably.” She took a pinch of the stuffing and put it under the table. “Here, Phinnie! Mom has something for you.”

They both burst into laughter.

Dessert, they decided, would be saved for later in the evening. Mom said they’d have some time to digest first. She seemed to have a plan about the whole day. Together they washed up the dishes and played a game of Scrabble.

Around seven-thirty, the doorbell rang.

“Who could that be?” Mom asked.

Madison shrugged. She had no clue. “Maybe it’s Aimee again? Or Egg?”

Dingdong.

It rang a second time, and neither Mom nor Madison moved.

“Are you going to get it?” Mom asked.

Madison begrudgingly got up. She looked down at herself. She hadn’t changed out of her pajamas since the morning. She looked like a mess.

“Mom, if it’s a boy … even just Egg … I can’t let him see me….”

Mom grinned. “Okay, I’ll get the door.”

Madison rushed into the small half bathroom downstairs to see what she looked like
exactly.
Her hair was looking a little flyaway, but her pj’s looked surprisingly presentable. Only the bear claw slippers that Madison had on her feet looked ridiculous.

“Who is it, Mom?” Madison said as she walked back into the living room.

Madison screamed. “Oh, wow!”

Standing in the doorway was a bunch of orange Mylar balloons with art of cartoon turkeys on each one. Through the balloons, a strange man peeked at Madison and grinned.