Johnston Green always looked forward to the football game.

Thanksgiving had always involved football, in some shape or form. When he was a boy, he'd tossed around the ball with his father, uncles, and cousins. It had continued when he was older, and when he was married and he and Gail made the trip to her parents' house, he played with her brothers. They'd objected when she'd joined them, but only feebly. He always picked her first for his team, and though they teased him that it was because he'd married her, he knew if anyone else had the chance they'd pick her too. She was as good a runner as any of them, a better receiver, and no one was allowed to be rough with her.

When the boys had been born, they had begun hosting Thanksgiving themselves, and the games had continued, tossing the ball around with his sister, her husband, and of course, his father. He didn't institute the Green football tournament, however, until that year that David knocked out a tooth.

He remembered it as the year his nephew had tripped on the living room rug and lost a tooth, but it had been Jake and Eric's rough-housing that had caused him to send everyone outside. Jake had been nine, Eric seven, and it seemed he had been breaking up one scuffle after another in between each of the tasks Gail had given him before the family dinner would begin. After David tripped and was taken tearily into the kitchen for some ice, Johnston had questioned his sons about the incident. Jake had blamed Eric for getting in the way, Eric had blamed Jake for cheating at whatever game they were not supposed to be playing indoors anyway, and Johnston had been so fed up with them that he had marched both of them outside.

He'd thrown Eric a football and told them to run around until they were sick of running, but they'd just stood there, refusing to play with each other. Exasperated, Johnston had taken the ball, telling Eric to go long and giving Jake directions to catch Eric. Reluctantly, with his prodding, the boys had followed his instructions.

He had only meant to throw the ball around with the boys until they were playing nicely amongst themselves, since he still had chairs to bring upstairs from the basement and a booster seat to locate. He had planned to go inside as soon as Jake and Eric showed signs of civility towards each other, but instead, he'd gotten caught up in the game. Eric began to ignore Jake's taunts, showing off his throwing skills he'd learned on the pee wee team that year. Jake had given up eventually and started following his father's directions, especially when he realized they were useful.

Soon his own father had come out, the girls in tow behind him. Lizzie had immediately wanted to play, and Kara refused to be left out, though everyone else would be cautioned to be careful around her.

Eventually Gail came out, his sister Caroline, her husband Don, and David, smiling a gap-toothed smile, following her. They hadn't been annoyed as he'd imagined they might be when they caught him playing with the kids. They had demanded a new picking of the teams to be done.

Johnston Green remembered fondly every year's football game. This particular year, however, he was struggling to remain cheerful.

The smell of turkey and pumpkin pie still wafted from the kitchen as he stood on the porch, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. The lawn was empty. The porch, however, was covered in people. They were lazily chatting, sprawled out in various stages of post-turkey-dinner lethargy. He listened idly to their conversation.

“I don't think I can ever eat pumpkin pie again,” said David, leaning back on his seat on the floor between the chairs.

“Does that mean you won't be eating another piece tonight at midnight?” asked his mother from her seat nearby.

“He'll probably eat it tomorrow before any of us get up,” laughed EJ Green, holding the baby comfortably on his lap as he reclined in his porch chair. “I've seen him do it before.”

“I've never done that, Gramps. I think you're talking about Jake.”

“Where is Jake, anyway? What's taking him so long?” asked Kara, who was half leaning against the wall, her hands draped on the back of EJ's chair.

Johnston stiffened, not knowing if any of them noticed because his back was turned. He didn't know exactly what was taking Jake so long, but he could guess. Having stared at his plate and mumbled answers to his relatives' questions about life after college throughout dinner, Jake had stormed up to his bedroom directly after dessert.

“He's probably on the phone with Emily,” muttered Eric, from his seat on the steps.

“He's still going out with her? Again?” asked Kara.

Lizzie leaned across her grandfather to swat her sister's arm. “Well, every other time we come here, he's either with her or broken up with her. Again,” said Kara.

Johnston sighed. His niece was most likely right; Jake was most likely on the phone with Emily. Unlike Kara, he didn't mind the 'who' Jake was on the phone with, it was the 'why'.

“Well, whatever, I really want to know about Eric's new girlfriend,” said Kara, turning to give Eric an impish look.

Eric's face turned red as the porch erupted in questions from other relatives. “Fine, only if you don't bug me anymore. Her name is April, she's from Atlanta originally, and she's pre-med.”

“A doctor, very impressive,” said Caroline. Johnston couldn't help but grin a little. He didn't doubt that his sister had already heard of Eric's girlfriend's ambitions, having no doubt spoken with Gail on the phone. He recognized the knowing tone in her voice.

“Well, one day,” said Eric.

“So is she any good at football?” asked Kara.

“He just started dating the girl!” said EJ, jiggling his great-granddaughter, who had started to fuss. “You're already looking for a new recruit?” he asked with a chuckle.

Lizzie smiled at Eric's red face as she took the baby from her grandfather. “Kara just wants to add another good player to her team. Since she always plays on Jake's team.” She hoisted the baby up to her shoulder. “Not that Jake's not good, but Kara tried to recruit Calvin the first Thanksgiving I was dating him.”

From his awkward perch in the corner, her husband grinned sheepishly. “I think I'm kind of stuck on Lizzie's team. But your team was close, Kara.”

The other members of the losing team, David, Kara, and Gail's cousin Allan seemed to let out a collective sigh. Gail rolled her eyes. She'd been on their team too, but she couldn't remember when the football game had gotten so competitive. She glanced at her niece. Kara was oblivious to any criticism that might have been behind it her aunt's expression.

“Jake's a good player. When he actually plays. You think if we'd invited Emily to play he would have paid attention?” asked Kara. Even she wasn't oblivious enough to miss the next look Gail leveled in her direction. She shrunk slightly against the wall and smiled apologetically at her aunt.

“Well, I had a very good time,” Gail's cousin Allan chimed in loudly. Everyone turned in shock; it was one of the few times he'd spoken up that evening. He was the new recruit this year, having been invited to Gail's family dinner when she'd heard he was working in Wichita this year. He'd been rather quiet most of the afternoon amidst the loud, comfortable Greens, but he'd gamely joined in the football game, 'Thankful for' traditions around the table, and had even chuckled at baby Olivia's hiccups with the rest of the family. Now, faced with a seemingly not-quite-buried animosity, he attempted to express his thanks for being included his first year away from the Boston area. “I even liked the sugared carrots. Very...interesting.”

The entire porch dissolved into laughter. Even Johnston, who had been staring ahead through the whole conversation, had to smile a little as fresh memories of his sister's latest kitchen experiment came to mind.

Allan had turned pink. He hadn't been trying for a comedic effect. “I, I appreciated how you tried something new.”

“It's okay, Allan,” said David, close to tears as he laughed. “We all hated them too.”

“Nice,” said Caroline, reaching forward to mess up her son's hair. She turned to Allan then. “Thank you, I'm glad someone appreciates the efforts I go to.”

“Sweetheart, we all appreciate the effort,” chuckled EJ. “Now, the indigestion is something we could do without.”

“And thank you, Dad,” said Caroline. “Could you swat him for me?”

Kara leaned forward and playfully swatted EJ's shoulder.

“Careful, careful with your old Gramps. Not as young as I used to be,” he said, doing his best to give off the air of feebleness.

“Gramps? Admitting weakness?” said Lizzie.

“I know, hard as it may be for all you hooligans to believe, your Gramps might just be less than infallible.” EJ winked.

Eric turned around. “Yeah, I don't think I can believe it. Somehow you were with-it enough to notice every penalty in the game. With Olivia on your hip the whole time.”

“Yeah, Jake didn't get to cheat at all this year,” said David.

“Wonder if that's why you guys lost,” said Eric.

“Haven't we had enough wallowing in defeat?” asked Gail suddenly, turning to survey her family. Johnston heard a tone of irritation in her voice that seldom came out at holidays, at least the years his mother hadn't been present at them. She'd been pretending Jake's hasty retreat hadn't bothered her, but he suspected now that that might not have been the full truth. “Why don't we start heading out on our walk?”

“I thought we were waiting for Jake,” said Kara.

“Jake knows the walk comes after the food. He can catch up,” Gail said quickly. They all sat still as she looked around. She caught Eric's eye. He stood then, and she flashed him a grateful smile.

Johnston stayed stoically in place as the rest of the family stood, groaning slightly at the fullness they still felt, stepping off the porch and gathering in a group.

EJ was quickly cajoled to be the guide, though they had all, except Allan of course, gone on this walk around the neighbourhood every year. Johnston watched as his sister linked arms with their father, Lizzie balanced the baby as Calvin brought over the portable stroller, David, Kara, and Eric continued to tease each other enthusiastically, and Allan stood amidst them with only slight uncertainty. They started to walk, EJ beginning his tour with his loud, commanding voice. No one turned back to see if Johnston was following them, knowing he'd be along soon.

He felt Gail's hand on his elbow. “He'll be down soon,” she said.

Johnston didn't say anything. Her fingers traced a line up his arm, and back down it. “It's just Jake.”

She reached her hand under his arm, curling it around his elbow. Despite his reservation, he reached with his other hand, covering hers. “I know that,” he said. “I just thought, maybe today he'd put it aside and it could just be a good day.”

“I don't know that it wasn't a good day,” said Gail. “We've heard more from Eric than I have for two months over the telephone, your Dad set a new record for penalties called in the game, and Caroline's finally sick of holding her granddaughter, at least enough that the rest of us get a turn.”

“I know,” said Johnston. “I just, sometimes I miss those times it was easier. Times I knew we could just have a good time together, nothing in the way.”

“I'm not sure it was ever easy,” she said. “But it won't be like this forever. Jake's just figuring things out. And he's being Jake.”

“I never gave my old man this much trouble,” said Johnston.

Gail raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, I'm sure,” she said, a smile on her lips.

“It's true. Caroline, on the other hand. Holy terror,” he said, stony faced, but winking quickly.

“Right,” said Gail, with as much deadpan as she could exact. “You were the angel, I'm sure.”

“Hard to believe, isn't it?” he asked. He slipped his hand from hers, across her back, to rest on her waist.

She chuckled and turned towards him. “Just a little.”

He relaxed, for the first time that evening, and his hands settled on her hips. He leaned down to kiss her. They broke apart a few moments later. “I know one thing I'm thankful for,” he breathed.

“Oh?” she asked, one eyebrow arched mischievously.

“I'm thankful your cousin is so entertaining. That look on his face when he tried Caroline's carrots. We should invite him every year.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Angel indeed, Johnston.”

His arms still on her back, he smiled. “So, think we'd better catch up with them?” she asked.

“They know where they're going. They've got a tour guide,” he said.

“We could go on our own walk,” she said. He glanced for a flash of a second towards the house.

“Jake'll come down. In his own time,” she said. She took a step towards the edge of the porch, pulling Johnston's hand in hers. “Come on, Johnston. We have lots of time.”

He followed her off the porch, around the side of the house, across the lawn. The twilight was fading, darkness overcoming it, and Johnston took comfort in Gail's hand in his. She was right; they had the entire evening. They had time.

 Mimi Clark had always hated mornings.

They had once meant piercing alarm clocks and her mother's impatient rapping on the door. Later they had meant waking with a pounding headache and dragging a shoulder bag of textbooks through the slush, and after that, an early smoke cut short by a cross-town meeting she had to make.

Then there had been silent mornings she could barely get out of bed. She'd had to face things much worse than Microeconomics 101 or rush hour traffic. Things like cardboard cereal, surly looks from her teenage hostess, irritating jibes from the farmer she hated depending on, and the knowledge that her entire life before this dependence had vanished in smoke and soot.

She had always liked sunsets, and loved the night that swallowed up the city. It was strange, then, that the most meaningful moments in her life seemed to happen at sunrise.

The one she recalled this morning was the one that always came back to her whenever she braved getting up in time to see the sun climb over the hills. It was the sunrise that followed one of the worst and best nights of her life.

That night, in turn, had followed the day she and Stanley had come out of hiding to bury Bonnie. The same day Beck and his men had changed allegiances, and as everything was happening at once, their fortunes had reversed again. The part of the day that stood out most for her would always be the still moment on the hill, making promises with Stanley, with only their dead to witness it.

She'd felt such a sense of calm walking down that hill, Stanley's arm holding her good shoulder. It had been so contrary to everything else she'd felt for what had begun to seem like forever. Each step was still shockingly painful, images of Bonnie hit her mind in waves, but she felt a clarity, a sureness in herself that she had never felt so strongly in her life. She was still aware of the precarious nature of everything all around them, but the space between them was safe and steady.

They'd made their way to Bailey's, where the celebratory spirits had been high. She had insisted on staying until she was so pale he insisted they leave. The bar that night had seemed like a dream, because all the things she felt stirring in her own mind had spilled out into the tavern. There was frivolity and mourning, drinking and toasting, laughing and teasing and crying. As alone as she'd felt for days since her life had turned upside down again, now she felt that everyone was wounded with her, and everyone was rejoicing at the latest turn of events. She wasn't alone, she was like them and they felt it all as she did.

Mary had eventually found her, leaning against a bench, and wordlessly handed her the keys to the upstairs apartment. Mimi had let Stanley lead her up the stairs, ready to collapse. She had let herself rest on the pull-out couch for an hour, but she couldn't let her mind slip away on a night like this. She'd finally opened her eyes, and found him sitting inches away, watching her.

That new quality in his expressions was something she couldn't quite name but it frightened her just a little. She wanted to mourn the part of him that she feared was gone forever, but she shoved this out of her mind. He was here, close enough for her to breathe in the air he'd breathed out moments earlier. There was wear and tear on him now, but he was still whole, sitting with his hands on his knees. Whatever else happened, was going to happen, or would happen, she wanted him there.

It wasn't how she'd envisioned her wedding night, culminating on the pull-out couch in a shabby apartment above a tavern. She'd never pictured her arm bent awkwardly against her, or him tensing every time he noticed her wince. Everything that had happened was suddenly hitting them both at once. For the first time since that horrible waking moment, she let herself sob. He cried too- the first time she'd ever seen him. Their usual clumsy words were gone. All she knew was the piercing gashes that had infected her inside and out, the fierce longing she'd felt for him when he'd been gone and she still felt now, though he was close enough to touch, the euphoria that made her nearly dizzy that he was hers, not the ASA's or the rangers' or even his dead family members'. She'd never believed in forever, but this moment seemed complete, outside of time, so however short it might turn out to be, it didn't matter. She cried with relief when she felt him encircle her twisted limbs with his own- so close had she been to losing this skin, these bones, those lips, that face.

The night ended finally and she would remember it as though it had lasted an eternity, but also with the haze of a blurry polaroid. The revelers downstairs grew quiet and the sounds of the wake faded away. No one came upstairs, but neither of them had expected anyone else. They drifted into sleep, her carefully arranged on her good side, his warm breath against her neck, his arm reached up to her waist until he would shift in his sleep and fling it against the wall.

She'd woken the next morning, slowly. It was the first time she hadn't startled awake since that night before she'd discovered a mistake in the ledger. She'd never attempted to sleep in the Bailey's apartment before, but her surroundings didn't give her the horrible shaky feeling she'd always had waking at the med centre. She pulled her legs across the couch, her feet brushing lightly against his shins. She couldn't imagine how, but he looked peaceful curled up in an awkward position, his head almost up against the protruding arm of the couch.

It was earlier than she'd ever liked to wake in her former life, but she still felt the odd disconnect in time and space that had started several days ago. She carefully extracted herself from the blanket they'd pulled over themselves, letting it fall over his sleeping form, and pulled on the borrowed scrubs and sweater she'd left draped on the chair in the corner. She had a strange urge to go downstairs, to step outside, but something kept her by his side. When he opened his eyes, it was to see her looking down at him, just as he had watched her the night before.

She'd quickly and breathlessly explained, though she didn't quite understand herself, her notion to go outside. He'd smiled, but expressed a different wish for something he hadn't had in days: a shower. Laughing at the absurd ordinariness, she'd told him to go ahead and use the shower. He was relieved, she could see, and wondered if he wanted a chance to collect his own thoughts. The instinct that was telling her to go out was telling her she wanted a moment alone. She told him she'd meet him outside.

The stairs took a toll on her weary body, but she hardly noticed this morning. She stepped outside to the deserted street. Anyone else would have seen a strange sight: leftover blockades from the ASA's occupation still littered the sidewalks, the J&R office still bore signs of recent revolutionary action, and a new flag flew over town hall. She noticed none of this, however.

She saw the sky. Streching over the world above her, it was the most brilliant shade of crimson she could ever remember seeing in a morning sky. She felt the air- still except for a gentle breeze brushing along her skin. She pulled off her sweater, holding it out in her arm. This moment, with sudden intensity, she felt fully and completely grateful. Grateful to be breathing and feeling, grateful for the earth under her feet, grateful for the heart racing in her chest, goose bumps on her skin, and for her maimed, weary, living body.

It was true, she was also grateful for the man waiting for her upstairs. That he hadn't been swallowed up by the horror that had stolen into their lives, or that he had, but he had made his way out of it again. She was grateful too for the quiet around them now, that they could walk freely down the street in an hour and no one would try to stop them. She was grateful for friends who understood without explanations, for people who risked their own bodies protecting hers. And for the girl who'd given her life because she'd called her family.

It was also true that everything else she'd had to feel was there too. The persistent gnawing that part of her had been torn away forever, the tingling fears of what would become of him as he wrestled with his own actions, harsh reminders everywhere of the sister she'd never laugh with again.

But in this moment, holding all of those things tangled in her mind, Mimi allowed herself to feel the pure joy in watching a brand new day begin.

 Mimi Richmond still hated mornings. Three kids who greeted the day with screaming and years of living on the farm hadn't convinced her otherwise. This particular morning, she'd gone outside to avoid Stanley's cheeriness. He normally had the sense to avoid bombarding her with it before it was light outside, but this was one of his favourite holidays and he could barely contain his excitement as he talked about football and turkey by the counter with his eldest son.

Mimi had taken her mug in her hands and made her exit. She hadn't expected to be greeted by the brilliant display of colour in the sky. She had pulled her favourite chair to the edge of the porch, sitting slowly and breathing deeply.

She'd never been a big fan of Thanksgiving. It had been nice to have a long weekend, and she'd enjoyed the trips she'd taken with her mother. But the spirit of the holiday, the cheesy traditions and enforced giving of thanks, had never appealed to her. It was merely a coincidence that this morning, she had been reminded of that long ago moment in which she'd suddenly realized how lucky she really was. Other moments, such as this one, had reminded her over the years, but never had she known as clearly as that morning. It was odd, but reassuring, to know that this basic realization had only come after the very bad and very good had happened all at once.

Soft footsteps on the porch drew her out of her reverie. Arms encircled her shoulders from behind.

“Good morning, Mom,” said Tessa, leaning her head against her mother's.

“Morning,” answered Mimi. She shifted slightly to the side of her chair, Tessa quickly occupying the wooden arm, holding onto Mimi's shoulders still so she wouldn't fall.

“The boys figuring things out in there?” asked Mimi.

Tessa rolled her eyes. “Not really. Clark wants to kill the turkey, and Ben wants to cook the turkey, and Dad wants us to get ready for football.”

“Is he crazy? That's not for hours,” sighed Mimi.

“I said that,” said Tessa, tossing her dark hair, but grinning. “So, I left them to it and came out to where the sane people are.”

Mimi chuckled. Tessa was another example of the way her life seemed to work, struggles and moments and appreciating what she had all tangled together. This year had been especially trying. There was the time Mimi had first worried about having a heart attack- this year at the Jericho-New Bern friendship picnic, when she glanced away from Gail Green's story and saw her daughter standing in the middle of a bunch of teenage boys, laughing, hanging on her every word, and staring at her suddenly tall and graceful twelve-year-old frame. There were the fights and door slammings. Tessa had always spoken her mind but traditionally they'd been allies. Now, though she was afraid to admit it, Mimi's memories of early spats with Bonnie seemed tame in comparison. There were also times like these, when all the other troubles seemed to slip away.

“So what were you thinking about Mom?”

Mimi paused for a moment, and looked at the sky again. The sunrise would last another few minutes. “I was thinking about the view from Pointer road.”

“Yeah?” Tessa blinked sleepily. Mimi hid a smile. Much to Stanley's dismay, she'd passed on her aversion to mornings, though at least growing up on the farm had allowed Tessa to adjust a little better.

“I want to go for a walk. Do you want to come with me?” Mimi asked.

“Just me?” asked Tessa.

“Yeah, we can leave the boys to fight out who does what first. I was thinking about how my mom and I used to go to Punta Minta. For Thanksgiving.”

“I know,” said Tessa. “The infinity pool, the surfer boys,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“Well, Miss Tessa, did you know I was just around your age when we started going?” she asked, standing. “In fact, I had my first kiss there.”

“Mother,” protested Tessa, scrunching up her face.

“Well, if you don't want to hear about it.” Mimi stepped off the porch, her back to her daughter, and took a few steps across the field. Just as she predicted, she could soon hear Tessa following. She stopped and turned.

“I'm not getting ready for football this early,” said Tessa. Mimi nodded, and started walking again, Tessa falling in step closely.

They walked in silence for a few steps. Mimi let the cool wind hit her face, and looked up at the sky again.

“So who was the boy? What did he look like?” asked Tessa.

Mimi let out a laugh before launching into her story. As blue finally began to bleed into the pink sky, the pair vanished across the field.

 Sam Hawkins was horrible on the phone.

At least, that's what his sister thought to herself as she stood at the counter, chopping the vegetables. Though she was privy to all of her little brother's thoughts about the world when they talked in person, walking on the outskirts of town or sitting in the living room, on the phone he said almost nothing. Much as she'd share from her own life and the things that were happening in town, he left his life a mystery. He'd answer questions, with the same enthusiasm as someone having their teeth drilled, and she'd hang up eventually in frustration, wondering about all the things he hadn't said.

Forcefully hacking at an especially hard carrot, she heard the sounds of her frustrations echo on the cutting board. From the other side of the kitchen, her mother caught her eye briefly. There was a sympathy in her expression. When Sam had announced on speakerphone last month that he wasn't coming home for Thanksgiving this year, the mother and daughter had shared a similar glance. Allison wasn't sure if her mother had been reminded of those Thanksgivings, so many years ago, when another family member had neglected to show up for dinner. She certainly had been.

Now, there was a bit of a reprimand in Darcy Hawkins' glance too. Her eyes flicked briefly towards the living room, and Allison understood immediately. She could hear her father's voice, a gentle tone he reserved for special occasions, coming through the doorway. As usual, Allison was being reminded to be strong, to be careful about upsetting another family member.

It wasn't as though she needed reminding. After all, she was the one who could see, who had always seen, that fragile side of her father, despite the fact the rest of the world didn't know it existed. She doubted anyone else, except maybe her mother, perceived the shaky vulnerability in his smile as he'd talked about Thanksgiving earlier in the week, present in the encouraging voice he now used talking to his absent son. Sam, of course, was oblivious. How could he pick it up, on a phone line, hundreds of miles away?

She turned back to her cutting board, letting the carrots feel her wrath instead of speaking out loud. Sam didn't understand the work it took, playing her part in the family. He had an easier role, being the one who could just walk away. Most days, she was happy for her little brother, happy he'd escaped from the duty and obligations she'd been tied to since she was twelve. Happy he'd been able to leave, hadn't been tied to this place. Happy he'd been able to make his own happiness out in the world, and do something different than anyone else. And most days she was happy she had stayed. Happy with the part she played, the people who needed her, the job she knew she'd been born to do.

She reached into the basket and pulled out another carrot, chopping the end with a clean cut. She could hear her father's voice getting louder now, and he was in the kitchen, holding the phone to his ear and grinning. It was a fragile grin, she thought to herself, one he'd only let himself smile inside this house.

“You be careful with those potatoes, now son. You know, they can burn the second you have your back turned. Ask your mother about the first time I tried to cook them on my own, first year we had Allie.”

He leaned a hand on the kitchen counter, gripping the edge gently, still smiling into the phone. Darcy quickly stood, coming to his side and looking expectantly. Allison turned back to her vegetables.

“Well, seems your mother wants to get a turn in, I'd better pass you over. Take care, son. I love you.”

It was remarkable how easily he said it. Allison thought of the long time it had taken him to be able to say it with such ease. Of course, it had always been easier with Sam. He had that way with all of them.

She didn't look up from her work as she heard her mother exclaiming, “Happy Thanksgiving, Sam!” She barely noticed her mother's footsteps as she took the phone into another room. She could feel her father's gaze, however, before he spoke.

“Looks like, uh, looks like you've been working hard, baby,” he said.

She smirked. Thirty-three years old and still baby. It was something she could count on in him.

Wordlessly, he reached for the peeler and set to work beside her. For a few minutes, they worked quietly side by side, and as she sometimes did, Allison began to feel the things they weren't saying.

“So Sam's trying to cook, huh?” she asked.

Her father chuckled. “Seems so. Trying pretty hard to impress that girl.”

“I hope she's adventurous,” said Allison.

At this, he laughed again. She breathed a sigh. It was her job, making them both laugh, and while she didn't regret it, sometimes she noticed it especially.

“Lot of carrots,” he said. “Just how much do you think those Greens eat?”

“Well, I figured with the couple of teenagers they've got now, we'd better play it safe,” she said.

They peeled and chopped in silence for a few more minutes.

“I know you probably didn't think this year you'd be stuck playing football with your old man and his friends,” he said.

She began to protest, but he continued. “And you know, we would've been happy, no matter what you were doing, as long as you were happy.”

She nodded, catching his eye for a moment. The rules were, when he could be fragile, so could she.

“I'm glad we've got you,” he said. “No matter what, know I'm glad.”

“I know, Dad,” she said. He put an arm around her, kissing her on the forehead. She leaned her head against his shoulder briefly, as she had when she was ten years old, before going back to her chopping. He went back to his peeling.

Darcy's laugh sounded through the door, and she was coming back into the room. Still talking to her son, she was motioning to Allison.

“Your turn, Allie,” he said. “Go on, I'll finish this.”

At her questioning look, he chuckled. “I have improved since that year you were a baby and I burnt the potatoes, you know.”

“Okay, Dad,” she said. She reached for the phone her mother was now holding out, quickly going into the living room herself.

“Hey Sam,” she said quickly, flinging herself onto the couch.

“Allison! Happy Thanksgiving!” came the voice on the other end.

“So, how's Thanksgiving in Maine?”

“Same as anywhere, I guess.”

She frowned. Same as usual, no details about life in the city.

“How's the weather?”

“Not bad.”

Nothing to give her an idea of what his life was now.

“I hear you're cooking for Lara. That's impressive.”

“We'll see.”

Nothing about the mysterious girl either. She'd been thinking earlier that she'd tell him Julie said to say hi, but there didn't seem a point, unless she wanted to create an awkward silence.

“Well, what are you doing, since you're not at home, having a fantastic time at the Green football game?”

She heard laughing on the other end. “Dad told me about that. Said something about getting drafted to a team or something.”

She smiled to herself. If he'd been here, they would have shared a few laughs over their father's supposed football prowess, unbeknownst to Jake Green. “Yeah, kind of weird, but nice I guess for Mom and Dad. They get to have kids around for the holidays.”

“I hope it's fun for you too,” he said. “I mean, this year-”

“It's not any worse than any other,” she said. She paused. That hadn't sounded the way she'd intended. “I mean, I'm sure it'll be fine. The Greens are good. Fiona will be heartbroken that you didn't come home, though.”

The painful silence on the other end didn't surprise her. He was horrible on the phone.

“I wish I could have,” he said. She bit back her surprise and listened for what he would say next. “I had to, the art show being so soon, I just couldn't get away right now, but they all know I wanted to, right?”

“Yeah, they know, Sam,” she said.

“I was in the gallery the other day, setting them up, and you know what one everyone seems to love the most? That one of Mrs. Green. Go figure.”

Allison smiled knowingly. “I told you. I have no idea why everyone around here seemed to think that one of Dad would be the most popular. I mean, it's good, but it's not really the one I think is the best.”

She didn't know how she could explain it, but both of them understood why the charcoal portrait of their father, so well received among members of their own town, wasn't as dear to them. Sam had captured an interesting expression on Robert Hawkins' face, but it was the face he showed the world. The rest of the town knew that face, but they both knew a different one that was more real.

“But Mrs. Green, that look you got on her face. I'm not surprised people get it.”

“Yeah. It's got a good spot in the display. So does the one of you.”

She grinned. She'd never let her baby brother see just how tickled she was to think of her own likeness hanging in an exhibit. She'd never let anyone see.

“So you're coming out to see it, right?”

“What?” She was caught off guard.

“The exhibit, you're coming to see it when it opens?”

“I didn't- Sam, I didn't plan...” She trailed off. He had been talking weeks ago about the exhibit, and even with his phone skills, they'd understood how excited he was. Still, there had been no talk about them coming out to see it.

“Mom and Dad aren't going to be able to come out right away, but you'll come soon, right Allison?”

She hadn't been invited. But of course he had expected her to come. Her scatter-brained baby brother, always leaving his markers on the floor, his laundry in the kitchen, charcoal smears on the basement door, had always trusted their other-worldly connection over the phone lines they'd finally seen installed.

“You'll love the city, Allison. I want you to come see my place.”

Of course she would love the city. She'd never doubted she would love to return to a place that reminded her of the city she grew up in. But she'd grown up here, in so many ways that really counted. It was the place life and death decisions could save you or cost you everything, a place you took a stand and staked a claim. Sam didn't feel it like she did. He could wander, staking claims for himself in other places. This past year, she'd wished that she could wander herself, find another town where no one knew her, lay down new foundations. She'd tried before, but she had come back. So had many of the others. Unlike the days of old when she'd once dreamed of studying in California, working abroad, or exploring the rainforest, today most young people stayed within reach. Usually close enough that they didn't have to talk to their family on the phone once a month.

Even among Sam's friends, he was outnumbered. Woody marched around town, eagerly attempting to fill his father's shoes. Julie had gone away for a year or two, but she'd been back soon enough. She still came around the house, and Allison knew her mother spent afternoons talking with Julie, commiserating over that guy from New Bern Julie couldn't seem to get rid of. She herself saw Woody at work, Julie around town, and Sam's other friends, and she often checked in with them, but they couldn't quite help her fill that role she had played for so long. It was just so hard over the phone.

“Allison?” There was his baby-brother voice again. He couldn't use that one on people in the city, she was sure. “You're coming, right?”

She smiled, even as her felt her eyebrows raise in exasperation. He would convince her to visit him, pull herslf out of the the strict structures of her life, make her laugh and imagine life was as simple as he made it seem. That had always been his job.

“Okay, I'll come,” she said.

She imagined herself making the most of whatever apartment he'd set up, bringing news about everyone back home, being the steady part of the family that he depended on to ground him. That had always been her job.

There was a clattering sound on the other side of the phone. “Still there, Sam?” she asked.

“Yeah, hang on a second,” came his voice.

After a few more sounds that reverberated in her ear, he said, “That's great, Allison. I know you'll love it here.”

“Yeah, Sam,” she said, aware of more clattering noises in the background. “But don't burn down the kitchen before I get there.”

He laughed, but the slightly nervous edge in his voice made her think he was considering it as a real possibility.

“Crap, I don't know if cranberries are supposed to look like this,” he said next.

She chuckled to herself.

“Allie, do you-”

“I don't know,” she said.

“Do you mind putting Mom on?” he asked.

Laughing again at the frantic tone he used, she stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Her parents were seated at the table, chuckling over something themselves. “Okay, Sam. See what she says.”

“Thanks! I'll call you again in a few days and we can plan when you're coming.”

“Okay. Bye Sam,” she said quietly.

“Bye Allison,” came his reply.

She wordlessly held out the phone and Darcy accepted it, with raised eyebrows.

Allison sat on the other chair beside her father as they listened to Darcy explain how to troubleshoot cranberry sauce.

Robert Hawkins put a hand on his daughter's arm. She looked over at him, her eyebrows raised.

“Good talk?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. “I'm going to see the opening. Of his art show.”

He looked surprised for a fraction of a second, and then smiled. “Sounds good, baby.”

Darcy finally pushed the button to hang up the phone. “That boy,” she sighed. “What are we going to do with him?”

The three Hawkins' sitting around the table were silent for a moment. Finally, Allison asked, “Did you check on the carrots, Dad?”

He jumped up then, going over to the stove, finally pronouncing them safe as he took the pot off the burner. Allison and Darcy exchanged a grin.

“All set for the big dinner. And enough to feed all those Greens, I think,” he said.

“Here's to hoping!” said Darcy. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “And still more than an hour 'til kickoff.”

“Poker?” asked Allison, pulling out the deck of cards that had gotten them through ten years of war and the years that followed. “Or blackjack?”

“Anything but war,” said Darcy with a grin.

Robert took a seat at the table again, and Allison began dealing the cards to her parents. She pulled her own hand close to her chest so neither of them could see, and laughed as her father tried to hide the jack of spades with the torn corner. No one had ever thought to throw it away. She smiled as she eyed the cards she'd dealt herself. The football game at the Greens' house wouldn't be nearly as exciting as watching her parents' poker faces rise and fall over the next hour, and she was just a little thrilled that no one else would ever get to be privy to a Hawkins family poker game.

 Johnston Green always looked forward to the football game.

So much so that he tore down the street as fast as his legs would carry him.

He could hear Andrew's footsteps close behind him. Being a year younger, his cousin had always been trailing behind him, and he was glad that still hadn't changed. Ben Richmond, and even worse, Tessa, may have shot past him this year, but he and Andrew were still the same height difference. Not that he ever saw Andrew as competition, but it was some comfort to him that although that growth spurt his mother promised was coming hadn't arrived yet, neither had his younger cousin's.

He turned the corner. Only a few blocks left to his grandmother's house. When they had been younger, they'd run around and around the yard before the football game. They were, technically, supposed to be helping with the family dinner preparations, but they would always reach a point where they'd be so anxious, so excited as they dashed around the house, that his uncle would throw them out in the backyard to run it off. That had worked when they were little. They'd gotten bigger, and they'd started playing other games outside. He and Fiona would hide and jump out at each other, or on rare occasions, team up to jump out and scare the adults. Each of them would try to enlist Andrew to gang up on the other, throwing squishy crab apples from the ground. They'd climb the tree, have acrobatic contests, and try to see who could throw the most acorns at the neighbour's fence posts. They'd race to see who could run the fastest carrying his youngest cousin on their back. Generally, any adult who came outside, besides Grandma, was fair game to scare or enlist in a new activity.

After many incidents of bruises, scraped knees, and screaming matches over the finer points of a newly invented contest, the adults had decided that running around the yard wasn't enough to satisfy their need for pre-game exertion, so they'd been sent running through the neighbourhood. Johnny's father called this 'a pre-game warmup'.

Johnny didn't mind. He loved the feeling of the wind rushing by as he moved his arms and legs faster than he'd ever imagined they could go. He loved the hard pounding of his feet on the sidewalk, how it seemed to echo through every breath he took. And now, he laughed to himself because he was in the lead. Fiona had dropped back a while ago, when Shelby had tripped over her shoelaces. Knowing Shelby, she'd guilted Fiona into running behind with her, instead of trying to overtake the others.

He was closer to house now. Almost the winner. Usually he and Fiona were at the front of the race, and they would call something to tag as they got close to the finish line. It didn't seem like it would be close this time. Andrew kept a steady pace behind him, but he wouldn't try to push ahead.

Johnny felt jubilant as he crossed the last street. He had reached his grandmother's block. He laughed, in a gasping breath. He could see the house getting closer. He began sprinting faster. Behind him, Andrew's footsteps got father away. Then he heard it. Another set of footsteps, faster than Andrew's. He turned quickly, and saw Fiona racing towards him.

He didn't know how she had caught up so suddenly, and he pushed himself farther. Fiona was pushing hard too. In no time at all, she was nearly beside him.

“No!” he grunted between breaths.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her smiling. They would be calling the finish line together after all.

The two of them raced around the side of the house, close enough to elbow each other out of the way if need be, looking around wildly for a tie-breaking target. Last time, they'd used the shed.

As luck would be, Johnny's uncle was crossing the yard. “Dad!” shouted Fiona.

Jake had seconds to react as both cousins came barreling towards him. He held out his hands, each kid tagging his hand with their own. As they stopped running, they nearly pulled Jake over with them.

“Whoa, that's a tie, I'd say,” he said, chuckling at their overdramatic displays of disappointment. “Hey, save it for the real competition,” he added.

Andrew had run up behind them, and stood catching his breath. Before Jake could ask why they hadn't kept an eye on their sister, Shelby tore around the corner, running up to Jake and running right into him. “Finished!” she announced, hugging Jake tightly around the waist. “And my knee doesn't even hurt anymore!”

“What happened to your knee?” asked Jake, letting go of his youngest child's shoulders so he could see her knee.

“I tripped,” she said brightly.

“You're okay, right?” asked Jake, somewhat amazed she wasn't making a show of it.

“I'm ready to get ready!” she declared.

Johnny was still catching his breath as his aunt stepped onto the porch. “Who's ready to get their green on?” called Heather. Fiona, Andrew, and Shelby dashed up the steps. “Jake?” asked Heather.

“Yeah, I guess I better suit up. Coming, buddy?” he asked Johnny.

Johnny had arrived a few hours earlier sporting his green hockey jersey, but he followed his uncle up the steps. For a moment, he considered sitting on the porch steps to wait, but he could smell something cooking in the house. He trailed in after Jake, and followed the smell into the kitchen.

His mother stood at the counter, her back to him, talking about something boring as his grandmother stirred something at the stove. On the table, though, he eyed the pie he and his cousins had seen Grandma putting in the oven earlier. He stepped towards it and leaned in to smell it.

“Hey, I see you, Johnston Green,” came his grandmother's voice.

His mother's head whipped around. “Aw, Johnny. Could you not?”

“I didn't do anything,” he said. “It's just Grandma's pie, it's just hard to resist, you know.”

“Uh huh,” said Mary with a sarcastic smile. Gail had come over to rescue the pie. “You don't have to do that,” he said.

“Sorry, hon, but I think your track record is against you here,” said Mary.

“I only did it once!” he protested.

“Are you talking about the time the pie had fingerprints in it?” Fiona chirped as she came into the kitchen, now sporting a green zippered hoodie at least two sizes too big for her.

“How do you even remember that?” asked Johnny in exasperation.

“It was gross! It was like a big bug or something had dug tunnels all through the pie.”

As his cousin, mother, and grandmother laughed, Johnny fixed them all with his most pained expression.

“Ah, the great pie disaster of 2016.” Johnny turned to see his father walking into the kitchen. “Table's all set. And something smells good in here.” Eric eyed the pie for a second, and everyone in the room glanced at him quickly. “That looks delicious Mom. For later, I mean. Later, Johnny.”

Johnny rolled his eyes as more people came into the room. “Johnny's having trouble waiting for the pie? I know how you feel, it smells amazing, doesn't it?” asked his aunt, giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as she went by. Andrew had followed her in, and they were both decked out in their green shirts.

“I can wait for the pie, when are we going out for football?” asked Johnny.

“The Richmonds aren't here yet, or the Hawkinses,” said Gail. “But I imagine that won't be keeping you all in here much longer.” She suppressed a grin.

“Is everyone ready?” asked Eric.

“Jake's still convincing Shelby to put on her football uniform,” said Heather in a conspiratorial whisper.

Though she seemed slightly amused, the rest of the room winced. Johnny groaned. “How hard is it to put on something green? That's the only thing you need, something green.”

“Not if it's a stupid, stupid shirt.” Shelby stood in the doorway, a scowl on her face. Jake appeared behind her, holding out the offending article, and Shelby dashed across the room, standing behind Eric's chair.

“Look, Shelby, everyone else is wearing green,” said Fiona.

“No one else has to wear a yucky, glow-wormy green shirt,” protested Shelby.

Noticing Jake's expression, everyone else awkwardly tried to busy themselves doing something else. Fiona and Johnny convened around Shelby as Jake crossed the room and held out the t-shirt again, an annoyed expression on his face. “You don't have any green shirts, and this one is Grandma's. You're going to make her feel bad,” he said through clenched teeth.

“It's not Grandma's fault it's a stupid shirt. She probably got it at the swap.”

“Well, if it's good enough for Grandma, it's good enough for you,” said Jake, struggling to remain patient.

“Hey, Shelby, it's football, we all look kind of yucky,” chimed in Mary as she passed by the table with a stack of plates.

“You don't,” said Shelby, eyeing Mary's green sweater.

Mary chuckled. “This thing is twenty years old.”

“This shirt is probably older than that, and it's probably even too big for Grandma. It makes me look stupid,” said Shelby mournfully.

“We're never going to get outside!” exclaimed Johnny.

Mary laughed, and reached a hand to Johnny's curls. He winced as his mother ruffled his hair. “Don't be in such a hurry, little man.” He groaned. He was still waiting for the day his mother would realize he was thirteen. “You've got lots of time.” She put a hand on Shelby's shoulder. “Come with me, Shelby. I think there's something in the basement that might interest you.”

Johnny folded his arms as his mother and cousin left the kitchen. “Is anyone ready?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think I am,” said his father, jumping up from his seat at the table. “How about we practice for a bit while we wait?”

“Yeah!” said Johnny, with just a little surprise.

He and his cousins followed Eric outside. Johnny couldn't remember the last time his father had been the first adult outside to play. Eric had grabbed the football on his way out, and started tossing it to his son, niece, and nephew.

“Nice, Johnny!” he called as his son caught a pass. “I think we'll have to play you as a receiver this year.”

“I don't know, Uncle Eric. What if they get Tessa to cover him?” said Fiona slyly.

“She's taller than you too!” he called back.

“Hey, watch it you two, or Grandma will start calling penalties before the game even starts again.”

“Who do you think'll get the record this year?” asked Andrew, throwing the football.

“Let's hope it's someone from the other team this year,” said Eric. “So, let's hope Jake controls himself.”

“Hey, let's hope Stanley controls himself,” came Jake's voice as he stepped out the door. “Or Mimi. You know, all those Richmonds play dirty. And Mom just doesn't watch them as closely as she does us. Unfair advantage.”

He motioned, and Eric tossed him the football. “But this is our year, I just know it.”

Eric had a mocking smile. “Right, the secret weapon you kept talking about this morning.”

“Well, since the Hawkinses are coming this year, we got to pick teams. And the Richmonds will get more of them, but we only need one.” He tossed the ball to Andrew.

“Sam?” asked Fiona.

“No, he's not home, honey. Mr. Hawkins.”

Johnny grinned as Andrew passed the ball to him. “Too bad Fiona, you won't be able to ask Sam to marry you again.” Fiona went pink, but rolled her eyes.

“So I told Hawkins, he'd better count on being on our team. Richmonds won't know what hit them,” Jake said, stepping off the porch.

Johnny, Fiona, and Andrew exchanged grins.

“Oh, and of course, we're having a fun family game, and not trying to show the Richmonds up in any way,” he added, glancing over his shoulder. Again, they all exchanged smiles.

“Everyone ready in there?” asked Eric.

“Mom's on the phone, Lizzie called from Cedar Run, but she should be out soon. We'll call back later so everyone can say hi. Don't know where your wife vanished to. Mine's getting the first aid kit ready. But don't go getting any ideas,” Jake said, turning to the kids. “Really, Kenchy's not coming this year, and we want Grandma to actually enjoy this holiday, so I don't want any emergencies. Bruises are okay, no stitches.”

“We'll keep it in mind, Uncle Jake,” said Johnny.

“So who's ready for football?” asked Jake.

Within a few seconds, they had spread out on the lawn. Eric and Jake lead them in a practice, throwing the ball back and forth. In between passes, they talked excitedly about the upcoming dinner, seeing the Hawkins family, and the various weaknesses of the Richmond players. Eric and Jake argued back and forth about strategies, Johnny enthusiastically joining them in intervals.

A few minutes in, Shelby came prancing out the door, followed by Mary and Heather.

“Haven't I seen that... that before?” asked Jake, pointing at the dark green tank top his daughter was now sporting, the straps tied in bows to stay put over the bulky sweater she wore.

“It was in that box of stuff I left in the basement last year,” shrugged Mary.

“Isn't it a little...” asked Jake, not finishing the sentence, as Andrew stated much more plainly, “That's not a football shirt!”

“I like the sequins,” said Shelby, spinning to admire them in the afternoon light.

“Shelby, don't you think you should give Aunt Mary back her shirt, it'll get wrecked playing out here,” said Jake quickly.

“It's fine, I haven't worn it in maybe twenty years,” said Mary dismissively.

“Exactly,” started Jake, but Mary had already taken her place on the field. “She's not even nine,” Jake muttered at Heather as she walked over to him.

“She's wearing it over a sweater. And, she's wearing green, isn't she?” asked Heather with a smile. “Only rule, right?”

Jake sighed. “Alright, but you'll be sorry if she starts wearing Mary's other old clothes around town.”

“Alright, I'll deal with that when it happens,” chuckled Heather. “And you- no concussions this year, okay?” She poked a finger to his chest.

“I can't promise anything,” he muttered. Heather gave him a wide eyed look. “I'll try my best.”

“Everyone else too, play nicely with our friends.”

They looked around at the other family members, only some of whom appeared to have taken the news to heart.

“We're missing someone,” said Jake. “Where's Mom?”

“I'll go check on her,” said Johnny. “And I hope everybody is still out here when we get back.” He fixed his family with a look that meant business, and was dismayed that only Andrew and Shelby seemed to take the threat seriously. Fiona mock-saluted and his parents, aunt, and uncle were exchanging looks and chuckling to themselves. He ran quickly into the house.

He found her in the living room, sitting quietly in the arm chair by the phone. She was facing the back wall, so he couldn't see most of her face. “Grandma?” he asked softly.

She turned around quickly. “Johnston - Johnny. What is it sweetie?” She smiled, but her eyes seemed especially shiny.

“Everyone's finally ready to play,” he said. “At least, they'd better be by the time we get out there.”

His grandmother chuckled. There was something funny about the sound of her voice. “What is it? Are you okay, Grandma?” he asked.

“Oh, I'm fine honey. You just reminded me of someone for a second.”

“My dad?” he asked grimly.

“Well, that's not something I'd normally think of, but sometimes you do.” She stood, taking Johnny's arm in hers. “You know your dad used to get into the pie when no one was around too. Somehow Jake always got blamed, but I know for a fact he did it this one year.” She continued to tell the story as they walked to the back door.

Opening the back door, Johnny saw his family gathered on the lawn. “Johnny,” said his grandmother.

“Yeah Grandma?”

“Be nice to Stanley and Mimi and the kids.”

“Yeah Grandma.”

“But Johnny,” she whispered, leaning in to reach his ear. “Let's try to win one for the Greens this year.”

Grinning, he nodded as they stepped off the porch.

The Green Family Football game took place on a chilly, clear afternoon that year.

It had rained earlier in the week, and the ground in the backyard was still slightly spongy. Nevertheless, the entire Green family had assembled in excitement on one side of the lawn. The Hawkins family had arrived moments before, and had gone inside the house to deposit their contribution to the Thanksgiving meal that was to follow the game.

The Greens were all dressed for the occasion, but aside from their green shirts, they were in various stages of readiness. Eric was leading stretches, which some members of the family were following. Jake was excitedly explaining all the strategies he'd planned for this year's game to Heather, who was half-listening with a smile, as she fixed Shelby's broken shoelace. Mary had joined in the stretching, but continued to describe to her niece and nephew the commotion that had occurred on Main Street last week when Sean Henthorn had attempted to ride the bike he'd fixed in the rain.

“So when he heard the noise, Dale came running out of the store, and I was afraid he was going to have an aneurysm right there; but then Sean crashed into a tree and fell off the bike,” she said as she stretched an arm across her chest.

“He was okay, right?” asked Fiona as she reached for her toes, though she had caught the tone in her aunt's voice and was smiling.

“Oh yeah. I think Sean's always had a hard head. He just got up and looked around at everyone staring at him, and said 'What?'”

There were giggles around the group, but Eric cleared his throat. “Everyone really concentrating on stretching? If you don't, that's when people get hurt.”

Quickly, Mary hid a smile and the kids threw themselves into the warm-up.

“No, no one's getting hurt this year,” said Gail, glancing meaningfully at certain members of her family as she came back outside, followed by Darcy, Allison, and Robert Hawkins.

“Great, you guys are ready,” said Jake.

The Hawkins family stepped across the lawn and towards the stretching Greens.

“Mr. Hawkins, you're on our team!” said Shelby. “And we're going to win!”

An amused glance flashed quickly between Robert and Darcy Hawkins, noticed perhaps only by Allison. “So this is a long tradition, I take it?” asked Hawkins, still smiling.

“Well, most years Dad and Uncle Stanley picked teams, and we were all mixed up. But last year, Dr. Kenchy came for Thanksgiving, and Sean Henthorn, so they played with the Richmonds and we played against them,” explained Fiona. “Except Aunt Mary, so the teams were even. And they beat us.”

“But this is the year of Team Green, huh?” asked Darcy.

There were a few emphatic nods, and a few subtly raised eyebrows.

“It'll be a fun game, anyway,” said Heather before anyone else from her team could begin proclaiming an early victory again. “So, any news from Sam?”

The three Hawkinses launched into an update about their one missing family member--telling about how well he was doing, setting up the art show--the somewhat disastrous cranberries he'd been making, and of Alison's plans to make the trip out to Maine to see the opening.

The chatter was interrupted suddenly by a new set of arrivals in the Green's backyard. Everyone fell silent and turned to look. At the edge of the lawn, the Richmond family stood, five figures with five tall shadows falling across the grass. Each stood looking at their rivals, squinting in the late afternoon sun. They were impressive in their football jerseys, hockey sweaters, and polo shirts, a sea of red against the hazy blue sky.

The Greens were quiet as they took in the sight of their formidable opponents. Jake grinned slyly. Johnny squinted back at them. Gail shook her head. Mary waved. Mimi waved back with a grin.

As the old rivals faced each other, the three Hawkinses exchanged glances. Had anyone else been watching, they might have perceived the amusement that passed between them. After a few moments passed, Darcy broke the silence. “Uh, Jake?”

Jake broke eye contact with Stanley to turn towards her. “Oh, right. Teams. You two are with them,” he said, glancing at Darcy and Allison and motioning towards the Richmonds. “And Hawkins, you're with us.”

“Uh, Jake, aren't we going to say 'hi' first?” asked Gail, her eyebrows raised.

Jake seemed to think it wouldn't fit the spirit of the stare-down he'd been in a few seconds earlier. “We've got to huddle-”

“Come on, Jake,” said Heather, quickly starting across the lawn. Mary followed closely, pulling Johnny along with her, and the other children ran over to exchange hugs with Stanley, Mimi and their family.

“Go shake hands, Jake,” said Gail as Eric and the Hawkinses also went to greet the new arrivals.

Feigning a look of innocence as though he'd intended on doing that all along, Jake stepped over to the mob of people on the edge of the lawn. He stepped around Heather chatting with Ben and Tessa, Darcy and Hawkins exchanging greetings with Mimi, and Fiona, Clark, and Johnny debating something, to get to Stanley, who had lifted Shelby off the ground in a hug.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Stanley,” said Jake, offering his hand.

“Jake! Happy Thanksgiving!” said Stanley with a grin, still holding Shelby in one arm as he shook Jake's hand.

Jake smiled and nodded, and then put on a more business-like face. “Same terms we talked last week?”

Stanley affected a similar serious expression as Shelby slid out of his grasp. “We play for an hour, losers do the dishes.”

They shook hands once more. “Okay, team,” said Stanley, and as the Richmonds stepped towards their captain, Jake's own family moved back over towards their side of the field.

“Hey, wait a second,” said Stanley, stopping. Both teams stopped and turned to look at each other once more. “There are more of you than there are of us,” he said, glancing at each of the Green team members in turn. “Why do you have two more players?”

His family looked around at each other, but Jake had an answer ready. “We picked teams last week. We agreed, we get Hawkins and you get the rest of the family.”

“Why would you agree to uneven teams?” Mimi asked quickly.

“Ah, I'm afraid they were even. Sam couldn't make it home this year,” said Hawkins apologetically.

“So then, you should just play on our team,” she said matter-of-factly.

Hawkins seemed to think this was fair, but Jake held out a hand. “Wait, we get Hawkins. We decided teams last week. It's not our fault Sam isn't home.”

“Uh, Jake-” whispered Heather, who had appeared at his side. “Is this really-”

“We already had one less than you, and Sam was a strong addition to our team. You have to give us someone,” interrupted Stanley.

Jake nearly groaned. “You already have strong players. You've got Clark the quarterback, and you've got one of my best deputies. I've got an eight-year-old.”

“Hey!” began Shelby, but the adults were too engrossed in debate.

“What are you afraid of Jake? Think we'll beat you again if we have even numbers?” asked Stanley with a chuckle.

“Hardly,” said Jake, attempting a cocky smile. He and Stanley still stared at each other, and now other members of the families stood facing off as well. Darcy and Robert Hawkins, standing with their assigned teams, watched patiently.

As Jake opened his mouth to make another point, Mary stepped forward. “Okay guys, this is ridiculous. I'll just go play on their team again and it'll be even.” She continued walking, but Jake stepped out and held a hand up. “You can't join them,” he said incredulously.

She turned back to their family, and was greeted with a series of scandalized faces. “We want you on our team, Aunt Mary!” exclaimed Fiona, as Andrew said “We're all supposed to play together this year!” Johnny appeared too shocked at his mother's traitorous intentions to speak. From her vantage point on the edge of the porch, Gail couldn't help but chuckle.

Turning his back so the Richmonds couldn't observe so closely, Jake said through clenched teeth, “This is our year to beat the Richmonds. Team Green's year. It won't be a great victory if team Richmond has a Green on it.”

Evidently, Stanley had heard, because he called out, “Hey, we don't need a Green on our team! You know what? Keep your team. We can still beat you. Same deal, and losers do the dishes.”

“Okay, deal,” said Jake, trying not to smile. Once more, he stepped forward to shake Stanley's hand, retreating quickly so he could chuckle to himself. He hadn't expected a member of his own family to volunteer themselves, but Mary's offer had distracted everyone and his team had kept Hawkins. As the Greens and Robert Hawkins gathered on their side of the lawn, Jake leaned in and whispered to Mary, “Hey, if for some reason we actually do lose, you can be exempt from doing dishes.”

Grinning at her puzzled look, he motioned his team to huddle. He grinned as Heather slipped her arm across his shoulders, and on his other side, his nephew squished in beside him.

“Alright, guys. I know we haven't beaten them yet, and I know they'll try to intimidate us with their tall jokes and their Jericho Marauders shirts-”

“Well, you did tell them to wear red,” said Heather.

“Didn't you suggest team colours?” asked Eric, glancing over Shelby's head at her.

“Stanley and Mimi picked red. Anyway, we can win this, even though they're dressed in official Jericho high football gear and playing Deputy Hawkins. We have a Hawkins too,” said Jake, smiling across the huddle at Hawkins, who looked only slightly out-of-place bent over in between Fiona and Andrew. “We're all together, we're going to play a strong, united game, and-”

“They're using sign language!” exclaimed Shelby, her arms still wrapped around Heather and Eric to keep her balance as she leaned out of the huddle and craned her neck at the Richmonds. “So we can't hear what they're doing, probably.”

“Never mind,” whispered Heather, gently pulling Shelby back into the circle.

“As I was saying, we can take them on, we just have to have a good plan. So, I'm going to give each of you someone to cover out there. That way, hopefully we can match our skills with theirs. We've got to put our strongest players on the biggest threats,” continued Jake.

“I can cover Clark,” said Johnny hopefully at Jake's right.

Fiona gave a derisive laugh, which she quickly masked as a cough. Johnny leaned across Mary to glare at her, whispering through clenched teeth, “Oh right, we should put you on Clark instead. He'll probably hand you the ball and let you take your time. You can crawl to the finish line if you want.” She narrowed her eyes. Mary silently tightened her grip on both kids' shoulders and pulled them back into the circle.

“Clark is the toughest to beat,” said Jake, somewhat apologetically as he glanced down at his nephew. “So we need our toughest player on him. That's you, Hawkins.”

“Me, huh?” asked Hawkins calmly. “You sure, Jake?”

“Sure? What's a fifteen-year-old boy compared with criminal masterminds, huh?”

“If you say so,” said Hawkins with a hint of skepticism.

“Who are you going to cover, Dad?” asked Andrew.

“I'm covering Stanley. Next threat - Allison.”

“I can cover her,” piped up Johnny.

“Good,” said Jake. “And Andrew, you cover her too.”

“Okay,” said Andrew cheerfully.

“Now, Mimi. She was quite the thorn in our side last year. I need someone who can take her out. Heather, Mary. One of you,” said Jake, glancing to his wife and then his sister-in-law. Each looked as though she were about to protest. “Don't let her scare you. She's taller and she plays dirty, but you can take her. Tall people aren't that hard to take on, you just hit them where they're vulnerable-”

“I am not 'hitting' Mimi,” said Mary.

“And I'm not either. This is a touch football game,” Heather emphasized.

“I didn't mean literally,” groaned Jake. “Come on, one of you has to take her.”

The women glanced at each other. Heather raised her eyebrows. Mary shrugged. “I guess I can,” she said.

“Wait, you were ready to join her team. Heather should do it,” suggested Eric.

Mary rolled her eyes and laughed. “Fine,” she assented, and Heather nodded.

“And that leaves...Darcy for you,” said Jake.

Hawkins chuckled under his breath. “What?” asked Jake.

“Oh, you might want to carefully consider who you put on Darcy, that's all,” he said.

“Meaning?” asked Mary.

“Oh, no offense Mary. I'm just saying, Dee learned football from her father. He coached triple A. You might want to think about it.”

Mary appeared to be considering, but Jake just smiled. “Okay, well I think we're fine with Mary. Eric, you take Ben. He's gotten big all of a sudden and you know how they like to use him to play on our feelings. Speaking of which, Tessa-”

“I can cover Tessa, Dad,” said Shelby confidently.

“Good. You and Fiona, cover her together.” He glanced over at his eldest, to see if she understood his look. She nodded; she would cover Tessa and try to keep Shelby from getting hurt too.

“Okay Daddy!” said Shelby, flashing a smile at her sister. “We'll get her, right Fi?”

“Yeah, we'll stop her, Shelby,” said Fiona.

“Okay, so does everyone know what they're doing?” asked Jake.

Around the circle, heads nodded.

“Who's going to win this year?”

“Team Green!” shouted most of the group.

“Everyone, have fun, play hard,” he said.

“And everyone be good,” piped up Heather, playfully tapping a hand to his chest.

He leaned towards her, smiling. “I always am,” he murmured, reaching across her back.

“Dad!” exclaimed Shelby suddenly from Heather's other side, an accusatory look on her face.

“Okay, let's save it for the game, come on,” said Heather quickly as she suppressed a giggle. “Hands in the middle.”

They quickly piled their hands on top of each other in the centre of the circle, Hawkins placing his slowly on top. “'Green' on three,” said Jake.

The Richmonds and their new teammates had been standing calmly observing the Green huddle finish arguing amongst themselves. They watched their friends do the customary “Green!” break, and waited patiently for the Greens to assemble in position on the field.

As Gail walked across the lawn to hand the ball to Eric for the kickoff, Stanley quickly signed two words to Mimi. She signed them to Clark, who signed them to Tessa, who passed the message along to Ben. Darcy and Allison watched, understanding the sign and nodding acknowledgement when it was passed on to them. In their huddle, the Richmonds had explained that while they used other signs to signal each other during the game, and, Stanley was forced to admit, to confuse and annoy their opponents, their pre-game sign was always the same two words. Mimi turned back to Stanley, and repeated the sign, mouthing “Good luck.”

“Alright, Everyone,” said Gail, standing in the middle of the field. “You know the rules. I love you all so no injuries, please. Let's have a good game!” She raised a whistle to her lips, and blew. The ball flew from the Greens' end to the Richmonds'. The Green Thanksgiving football game had begun.

The blue in the sky had the intensity of early evening. The chill in the air intermingled with the smells of woodsmoke and Thanksgiving dinner. The people stretched out in the chairs and leaning against the railing on the back porch murmured and laughed softly, a cheerful exhaustion having fallen over most of them. Gail Green, from her comfortable chair in the midst of the gathering, wondered if she had ever before packed this many people onto the porch. The folding chairs she'd reminded Jake and Heather to set up earlier were all in use now, with some of their guests seated on the steps or on the floor. Gail could feel Tessa leaned against the back of her chair, and Shelby had settled herself at her grandmother's feet, both listening and joining in enthusiastically as Stanley recapped the highlights of this year's football game.

“You guys shouldn't feel too bad, after all, Clark just comes from a line of football players, and as for this lady, I hear she does too,” said Stanley, motioning to Darcy, who couldn't help but smile in spite of herself as the children exclaimed and the adults nodded.

“You even got your own husband out, I'm impressed,” said Stanley.

Darcy and Hawkins exchanged rueful smiles, and Darcy reached over to pat Hawkins on the knee. “Well, I wouldn't expect him to let me win either,” she said. “All part of the game, right?”

“What was your favourite part of the game, Mrs. Hawkins?” asked Tessa. “Was it when you scored the touchdown?”

“I guess that's a highlight,” she answered with a chuckle. “I was impressed with your touchdown, Mimi.”

Mimi was evidently a little impressed with herself. “Well, I was lucky Jake was nice enough to throw the ball to me.”

This was met with a round of chuckles from the Richmond team and groans from the Greens.

“Sorry, guys, I think that one was meant for me,” said Heather, though from the way she laughed, it was hard to tell if she was really sorry.

“It's okay, Mom,” said Fiona, who was squished between her mother and Mary on the bench. “Aunt Mimi was in front of you. I don't know how you could have reached. And Aunt Mary, it was really cool when you almost got a touchdown.”

Mary smiled. “Yeah, well, almost.” She raised her eyebrows over at Mimi, who shrugged apologetically.

“Sorry, all part of the game, right?” Mimi said, exchanging a knowing glance with Darcy.

“Hey, it was a nice save, Mimi. Not quite as impressive as Johnny and Fiona's valiant efforts,” said Mary, to which almost everyone on the porch laughed, and Fiona, who now sported mud down the front of her green hoodie, beamed. Johnny, who was equally muddy, didn't look quite so pleased.

“Uncle Stanley, you're supposed to stop running when people tag you in touch football,” he said, looking at his uncle with an air of accusation.

“Yeah, if people tag you, not grab you by the ankles,” said Stanley. “I figured, two kids attached to my legs, nothing new, I'll just keep going.”

“Well, I have to admit, I was impressed,” said Hawkins. “That you made it to the end zone, dragging these two, and that you two held on the whole way.”

“The referee was not so impressed,” said Gail, but she smiled too. “So, what was everyone's favourite part of the game?”

“I liked how Allison tagged everyone out. I bet you could catch anyone!” said Ben from the porch steps.

“Well, she is from a line of football players,” said Tessa. “But you were really good Allison, we were lucky to have you on our team.” Allison smiled and thanked the twins, looking just a little embarrassed as all eyes were on her.

“We were lucky to have Mr. Hawkins,” said Heather quickly, and Fiona dutifully nodded. “That fake-out was pretty awesome.”

“Yeah, we totally fooled you guys,” said Johnny. “You were all watching Dad run, then Mr. Hawkins just raced up the field.”

“Too bad, Mrs. Hawkins was faster,” said Shelby, in such a doleful tone everyone on the porch, including both Mr. And Mrs. Hawkins, burst into laughter. “My favourite part,” continued Shelby, “was when I caught the ball!”

Johnny nearly reminded her she'd dropped it a second later, but his grandmother caught his eye before he could open his mouth. “I never caught it before!” she added.

“And you had another first on your team this year- my man Andrew,” said Clark, smiling from his seat on the floor in front of the bench. “Pretty awesome play, sneaking right by Dad and Tessa.” Andrew beamed.

“I bet he's happy he didn't have to do the dishes,” said Johnny, folding his arms over his knees.

“I'm happy I got a touchdown,” said Andrew, letting out a contented sigh as he leaned back against the porch railing.

“You should be, buddy, especially since it was the only touchdown for team Green this year,” said Stanley, leaning across Mimi to pat Andrew on the shoulder. “Maybe there's hope for you yet.”

“I should hope so,” came Eric's voice, and everyone turned to see him standing in the doorway. “Three to one, not the worst loss a Green team has ever endured.”

“How are the dishes going?” asked Mary sympathetically.

Eric let out a deep sigh. “Almost done. We got the big pots and pans done a lot faster without the kids 'helping'.”

Heather glanced around. “Is he still in there? He said he'd be out in a minute-”

“Don't worry about it, Heather, he's probably just trying to avoid the game recap. Doesn't want us to see him cry,” chuckled Stanley, and a few other people sniggered.

Heather wore a slightly pained smile. Gail gave her a reassuring grimace. “He'll be out soon enough, and you already did your share of dishes. Really, sweetheart, don't worry. I remember one time, Jake spent part of Thanksgiving up in his bedroom, and we all went on our walk without him. We knew he'd come along when he was ready.”

“I remember that,” said Eric with a grin. “Remember how mad Kara was, that he was taking so long?”

“I don't know, I think she was mad that she'd lost the game,” said Gail. “Kara was always a bit like that, always wanting to join in the game, and not understanding why other people weren't as into it.”

“Like the time at the picnic, right?” asked Fiona.

“You mean, the Green family reunion?” asked Gail.

Fiona nodded, leaning her head against Heather's shoulder. She knew the story, but many of the others present hadn't heard it before, so Gail leaned forward in her seat.

“Well, Johnston's niece Kara was a little younger than Eric, and one year, when we had the Green family reunion up at Cedar Lake, there was supposed to be a water balloon toss. The kids were filling up water balloons, and I guess Jake and his cousin David had been making themselves a stockpile.” She glanced over at Eric, who was grinning. Since the next part concerned him, he continued the story.

“Kara came and told me Jake and David were 'hogging the water tap' and she convinced me to take her to another one, so we took off, with our bucket and bag of balloons. I didn't think to bring a map or ask anyone for directions. We wandered around until we found another water tap, and filled our whole bucket with water balloons. Only trouble was, when we finished, I couldn't remember how to get back to the picnic site. I was so mad at Kara, she'd just had to fill those balloons, and she'd guilted me into taking her in the first place. She didn't care either, she thought I should have known the way back, and she couldn't carry the bucket herself, I had to carry it the whole time we wandered around.”

Gail jumped in again. “When we realized they were missing, everyone got worried. If it had been anyone else, especially Jake, we would have thought he was just off wandering around, but Eric- everyone wondered why he hadn't asked permission to go.”

“How un-Eric,” said Mimi in a voice that made everyone else laugh and Eric grimace. Mary gave him an endearing smile.

“Johnston, though, he said he could guess just how it'd happened. Kara had gotten a notion into her head, and Eric, being always a gentleman, had offered to help her. He went off looking for them, and brought them back within twenty minutes. I remember, he came walking along the path, all matter-of-factly, a bucket of water balloons in one hand, holding Eric's hand with his other, and Kara on his shoulders. Caroline rushed over, all relieved,” said Gail with a chuckle. “But I never doubted he'd bring them back.”

People around the porch were smiling, but no one laughed in this moment. Gail looked slowly from one member of her family to another. Eric glanced down at his damp sleeves, and let out a sigh.

“Uncle Eric, do you want to sit down?” asked Fiona. She squished right up against Heather, but Eric still couldn't fit into the space between his niece and Mary. Finally, Fiona slid off the bench and Clark moved over to make room for her on the floor. Eric leaned against Mary, who put an arm around him.

“So I guess the lesson we all learned from that story is-” began Stanley, pausing for a dramatic effect. “-don't rely on Eric for a sense of direction.”

Eric smiled grudgingly as the porch erupted in laughter once more. “Or bring a map,” chimed in Clark.

“I don't know that you should be talking, hon,” came his mother's voice across the porch. “Remember the infamous Fourth of July picnic?”

“Yes,” said Clark, slightly pink but smiling in spite of himself. “But we weren't lost.” He glanced quickly to Fiona, who nodded emphatically.

“We planned it all out, the day before. We packed everything we'd need to go on our camp out,” she said. “Clark made the sandwiches, because he was old enough to use a butter knife. I brought the campfire songs notebook. And Johnny was in charge of fishing gear.”

Fiona and Clark caught each others' sideways glances and laughed themselves now. “When we finally picked our camping spot, Johnny pulled out a container of worms he'd dug up. He thought we were all set.” Fiona giggled again, and her cousin flashed her an irritated look.

“Meanwhile of course, no one knew where you were, everyone was ready to put a search party together,” said Gail, with just a hint of a reprimand in her voice, though she was on the verge of laughter herself.

“Mimi was afraid you'd been eaten by coyotes or kidnapped by pissed off refugees or something,” said Stanley.

“No I wasn't,” she said, playfully swatting Stanley's head. “But I was very concerned that our darling children were lost.”

“We weren't lost,” protested Johnny, to further chuckles across the porch. “We would have stayed there overnight. If Deputy Taylor hadn't found us.”

Shelby had vacated her seat on the floor and come to stand by her mother. “You really thought you could use worms? To go fishing? In the middle of the field?”

“Hey, give him a break, Shelby. He was five,” said Clark.

“And, we weren't lost. We knew where we were the whole time,” repeated Fiona.

“Maybe you guys should start leading the neighbourhood walk, then,” piped up Stanley. “Wouldn't want Eric to get us lost this year.”

“It's Uncle Eric's job!” exclaimed Shelby, promptly turning to seat herself between Heather and Eric. Though smaller than her sister, she couldn't squeeze in between her mother and uncle either, and slid down onto Fiona and Clark, shrieking.

“And on that note, maybe it's time for the walk to start,” said Gail, rising from her chair.

Tessa quickly came around from behind the chair, and Andrew stood from his, chattering excitedly to the Hawkinses and explaining the neighbourhood tour tradition. Stanley made a show out of offering his arm to Mimi and helping her out of her chair.

“But what about Daddy?” asked Shelby quickly, still half standing, half leaning between Fiona and Clark. “We can't start without him.”

Gail was about to say something, but Heather reached out and laid a hand on Shelby's head. “Daddy'll be out soon. He won't mind if we start without him. Sometimes he just likes to take his time.”

She looked like she might protest, but Stanley, standing over her, was already saying, “What seems to be the trouble, little lady? You wouldn't want a bucking bronco to ride along the trail, would you?”

“Stanley, would you watch your back!” Mimi was protesting, but Stanley was already hoisting Shelby into the air.

The family assembled on the lawn. Eric was summoned to the front of the group, and he introduced the start of the neighbourhood tour in a solemn voice, to cheers and sniggers from his audience. He turned and began walking, pointing out sites of interest as he crossed the lawn. Andrew, Johnny, and Tessa followed eagerly by his side, asking questions and interjecting their own observations. Robert and Darcy Hawkins came next, arm in arm, and though they were looking ahead at their tour guide, it was hard to tell if they were really listening to his speech. Allison followed, laughing and fielding questions from either side as Fiona and Clark speculated about Sam, his art show, and what Allison would do in Maine. Mary and Mimi walked behind them, already engrossed in their own conversation, though Mimi turned periodically to throw Stanley a disapproving look. Stanley was oblivious, cheerfully chattering with Ben, who walked alongside him, and Shelby, who, with her arms around his neck, giggled and exclaimed from her unprecedented height as Stanley carried her on his back.

Gail had entered into the conversation with them, recalling with Stanley the first time Bonnie had tried to make the stuffing as a surprise for her big brother, but she turned to glance back at the house. Heather still stood on the last porch step, holding her arms around herself in the evening air.

“Coming, sweetheart?” asked Gail.

Heather smiled slowly, before shaking her head. “I think I'll wait for him.”

“You could be waiting a while,” said Gail.

She nodded. “We'll be okay.”

Gail nodded, and followed the group, smiling as Ben began to describe to her his own attempts at deciphering Grandma Richmond's stuffing recipe.

Heather watched them go, sighing as she breathed in the wood-smoke air. She stepped back up to the porch, a grin on her face now. “They're gone now.”

Jake stepped uncertainly around the back door, which he'd been holding open. Seeing that she was the only one left, he let out a smile too. He came over to the edge of the porch, wrapping an arm across her shoulders and kissing her ear. She turned towards him and let her hands rest on his chest, and they slowly leaned into a kiss. “Fun game this year, huh?” she whispered breathlessly, leaning her head against his chest. She shivered, and he slid his arms down from her shoulders to wrap them around her. “Ah, I've seen better,” he whispered into her hair. Heather laughed and they broke apart. She stepped onto the lawn, and he followed only to the last step of the porch. He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky. “Nice night,” he said. She murmured her agreement.

He sat down on the steps, resting his hands on his knees. She looked up herself for a moment longer, and then turned back to him. “Ready to go for a walk?”

He reached out for one of her hands. The second he closed her hand in both of his, he tried to pull her towards the porch. “Why don't we just enjoy the night?” She allowed him to pull her towards him, but she stopped in front of him, holding her arm out as he continued to hold on, and not sitting on the step beside him.

“We can enjoy the night. Probably better if we go out and really see it,” she said, gently tugging his arm herself now. He resisted at first, but finally allowed her to pull him to his feet.

“You know, that football just tired me out. I'm not as young as I used to be,” protested Jake. “It might just do me in to hear Stanley brag about his touchdown one more-”

“We won't be able to hear Stanley,” said Heather.

Jake stopped protesting. “You're not suggesting-”

She grinned. “No one said we had to catch up with them to go for a walk tonight.”

He look scandalized for a moment, but the corners of his mouth tugged into a smile. “I can live with that.”

“Oh, you can live with that?” she said in a teasing voice. “Okay.”

He slipped his hand into hers. They crossed the lawn, their fingers interlaced between them and their heads close together. Their gentle banter, and laughter as they recalled Thanksgiving walks of the past, mixed with the other sounds in the evening air as night descended on Jericho.