Page 102 of Worst in Show

There are about thirty other people in the room, not including the staff, and everyone is dressed up and in good spirits. Sylvia and Charles are already seated, and I wave and nod to her when she raises her eyebrows in question and gestures to the chairs next to them.

“Come on,” I tell Micki. “Let’s grab seats.”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Sylvia says when we reach them.

Charles says nothing. According to Harvey, his roommate hasn’t spoken again since the Cholula incident, though his overall health seems to be improving.

“To you as well.” I sit down a chair away from her, saving a spot for Pop. Micki sits down on my right.

We’ve made small talk for a few minutes when Micki calls out, “Harvey, over here!” She waves to Pop, who has paused in the doorway.

He grins when he spots us, and, if I’m not mistaken, his smile widens further at the sight of Sylvia.

I get up to help him into his chair. “Saved you a seat,” I say with a wink.

“Thanks, kiddo.” He adjusts his tie.

Sylvia nods in approval at Pop. “You’re looking very snazzy today.”

“As do you,” he responds. “That is a lovely scarf.”

Micki and I exchange a knowing look but don’t have time for much else before a man I’ve never seen before introduces himself as the director of the facility and invites everyone to the table. Once the commotion settles, he calls a toast to family, friends, and the food service staff and wishes everyone a festive night before he disappears out of the room.

Before long, the din of conversation mutes as everyone dives into heaped plates of roasted turkey, stuffing, buttered corn, mashed potatoes, gravy, and more. Even Micki, who is not a huge fan of the holiday, admits it’s a great meal, and when Harvey points out that there’s also a dessert table loaded with cookies and pies, she groans out a wish that she’d worn bigger pants.

“Why don’t we all say something we’re grateful for,” Harvey suggests after I pour him a cup of coffee. “I’ll start.” He gathers himself up, shoulders straight, and then he pats my hand. “Cora, I’m so thankful for everything you’re doing. Not just picking up the slack at the store through all this, but taking care of the dogs, preparing for the contest, being here tonight… You are truly one of a kind.”

I’m not prepared, so for a moment I just blink at him while trying to dislodge the words that stick in my throat. I want to tell him I don’t deserve the praise, but before I can say anything, he pulls me in for a hug and then keeps going.

“Michaela, thank you for being here tonight and for being such a good friend to Cora.”

Micki clutches her chest. Then she reaches out to squeeze Harvey’s hand. “You’re the best, Harv,” she says. “I’m grateful for you.”

“And Charles,” Pop continues, “we may not have known each other long, but I am thankful for your quiet companionship, nevertheless.”

“And for the extra puddings,” Micki whispers so only I will hear.

I suppress a snort.

Harvey faces Sylvia. “And finally, I’m very grateful for your company, dear Sylvia, which has been vital to my improvement and day-to-day morale.” He nods. “What a blessing. Oh, and the food. Can’t forget the food.”

We all laugh, but I also can’t help but notice the flush of color on Sylvia’s cheeks.

I go last, and because there’s a real risk that I’ll crack if I delve too deep into what Pop means to me, I keep it generic by proposing a toast to the people and things I appreciate most. “To this lovely evening, the bountiful food, our dogs, Micki, and the best grandfather a girl can have. Our health! Cheers!”

I almost get away with it, but when Pop and Sylvia resume their conversation to my left, Micki breaks a snickerdoodle in half and nudges my elbow. “Not Leo?” she asks.

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t mention him in your toast. I would have thought you were grateful for him, too.”

The word complicated blares in my head. I will it to quiet down. Things are fine. All fine. “Of course, I am. But tonight feels more like it’s about family.”

“But I’m not—”

I cut off her protest. “Oh, you are definitely family.”

It works, and instead of pushing it, she hugs me tight. “Right back at you.”

---