Chapter 10
Amelia
Thursdaymorninginourtown is usually bustling, but today, it’s downright chaotic.Dr.Whisperer has wasted no time putting out a headline about Thanksgiving, stirring up the town’s excitement.
Thanksgiving Morning Chaos: Missing Turkeys
The town’s entire flock of turkeys has vanished overnight, including our beloved Russell.Did someone steal them?And where could dozens of turkeys hide?
Dr.Whisperer
We stand in line outside the diner, the crisp autumn air biting at my cheeks, my breath visible in small puffs.The line snakes around the corner, people chatting, shifting on their feet, wrapped in coats and scarves, all here for one thing… Genevieve’s famous pies.
I don’t care what flavor I get.I just need two.One for my family and, more importantly, one for Adrian.He agreed to the fundraiser, sure, but I need this article to be damn good.It can’t be half-assed.It must be perfect.If that means eating literal humble pie, so be it.
My younger sister, Hazel, is with me.I wasn’t about to stand in this line alone, and I sure as hell didn’t want to add more to Violet’s plate today.She’s working a few hours to cover this story before heading to her boyfriend’s parents’ place.
Inside, I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet, nerves eating at me as the line inches forward.It takes a full hour before we finally step inside, and when we do, the smell nearly knocks me off my feet.Warm sugar, melted butter, nutmeg, cinnamon, pastry.It’s heaven.
My eyes snap to the glass cases, scanning the selection, and my stomach clenches.There aren’t many left.
Heart pounding, I step up to the counter.“Genevieve, I need one pecan pie and a sweet potato pie.”
She smiles, her hands dusted with flour, her apron slightly askew.“Lucky you, love.I’ve got pecan.”Relief washes over me, even as she follows up with.“Sweet potato’s gone, though.”
Damn.That one was for the kids, but anything will do.
“Can we get the chocolate cream one?”Hazel asks.
“Of course.”
She boxes them, whistling.
“You’re doing amazing, Genevieve,” I tell her, handing over the cash as Hazel grabs a pie.
She grins.“Only once a year.Gotta make it count.”
Pies in hand, we leave the diner, clutching them like someone might snatch them away.The line outside has only grown, winding farther down the street.There’s no way there are enough pies left for all these people.
Spotting Violet through the crowd taking photos, I wave goodbye before heading straight home.
Back at the house, the mess is already in full swing.Felix is running through the halls, screeching in his little Thanksgiving sugar rush from this morning’s Lucky Charms.The kitchen is warm, rich with the scent of roasted turkey, buttery mashed potatoes, and freshly baked bread.
Mom sits on the recliner, looking exhausted but content.“That took a while,” she notes, her voice light with amusement.
“The line was insane,” I say as we settle the pies safely on the counter.“But we got them.Oh, and I’m heading over to drop one off at Keith’s.”
She nods.“All right, love.I’ll be here, resting up.Need my energy for the game tonight.”
The annual Thanksgiving game.Scrabble.It’s loud, competitive, and full of laughter.One of the last things my mom held on to after Dad left.No prizes, just bragging rights.Last year, I won.
This year?Not so sure.
I check the time, then rush to shower.I throw on a pair of high-waisted flare jeans, sneakers, white sweater, and a coat.Comfortable but nice.Blow-drying my hair, I let it fall naturally, and add a touch of makeup.Nothing dramatic, but just enough to look put together.
When I come back downstairs, I scan the house one last time.Everything looks good, minus the kids causing havoc.My brother, Atlas, is glued to the Nintendo Switch, Jasper on his phone, both completely oblivious, while Felix is tearing through the living room like a tiny tornado.
I sigh.Not my problem right now.Hazel is on babysitting duties until I get back.
