“They’re for you!” Lily said, and Cami nodded vigorously.
“For me?” My damn throat felt tight. The papers felt small and light in my big hands.
“Because today is Thanksgiving,” Cami said. “We’re going to Auntie Colleen’s house for a big dinner.”
“You can come with us,” Lily said. “If you want.”
I went to the kitchen and rummaged in a drawer for a roll of Scotch tape. “That’s nice of you, Lil, but I’m going somewhere already.”
“You are?” Maryann asked sharply. “Where? If you don’t mind me asking.”
I smirked. If Maryann was going to ask a question, she asked it.
“I’m going to Nelson’s,” I said, taping the turkeys to my refrigerator door. “He’s my uncle,” I told the girls.
Cami made a face. “We know.”
Lily wore the same sour expression. “Mommy says he’s a sonofabitch.”
“Lillian Angela Greer!” Maryann cried. She shook her head at me, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I never…”
I chuckled. “It’s all right.” I sat on my heels in front of the girls. “Your mom’s right but don’t say that word in front of him.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not polite,” Maryann interjected.
“And a bad word,” Cami added.
“Right. And a magic word,” I said. “If you say it to his face, he might turn into an ogre.”
The girls’ eyes were wide. “Really?”
I nodded. “That’s why grown-ups never want kids to say bad words in front of other grown-ups. You never know if it’ll turn them into a monster.”
“How do you know so much about it?” Cami asked, the skeptic of the two. “Have you seen a monster?”
“I sure have.” I felt Maryann’s eyes on me and gestured at the turkeys on my fridge. “What do you think? Do they look good there?”
“Your fridge needed them,” Cami said seriously. “There’s nothing on it.”
Lily agreed. “Our fridge is covered in our artwork and when we do good on a project.”
“Do well,” Maryann corrected gently. She stood between the girls, stroking their hair. “So you’re having dinner with your uncle?”
I stood up. “Heading over at two.”
That, at least, wasn’t a lie. It was true I was going to visit Nelson but only because he needed me to drop off some invoices from a plumber we’d hired last week.
“That’s great,” Maryann said. “Hold on a sec.”
She hurried out, leaving the girls with me. It wasn’t too cold of a day; I was wearing a T-shirt, showing my tattoos—their favorite subject. They never got tired of looking at them.
“That looks ouchy,” Lily said of the dagger tattoo on my left arm.
“The clock says 10:05,” Cami said, inspecting the sleeve on my right. “We’re learning about time in class.”
“What happened at 10:05?” Lily asked.