Jewel of the East Read Free Page B

he finished.
    “Daddy!” Maisie said. “It’s raining out, and Mom’s not even home because she had to go and get all this gourmet stuff for Great-Aunt Maisie because the food at the assisted living place isn’tgood enough for her, and we have to eat with all those old sick people, and you’re halfway around the world and—”
    “Whoa, sweetie,” their father said. “It can’t be all bad.”
    “But it is,” Maisie said.
    The kitchen door opened, and their mother came in, her arms full of groceries.
    “This is the worst Thanksgiving ever!” Maisie said.
    Their mother’s face seemed to crumple in on itself. She slowly put the bags on the counter and, with her back turned away from Maisie and Felix, began to unpack them.
    Felix glowered at Maisie, but she just tossed her unruly hair, stretched the cord of the phone as far as she could, and disappeared with it around the corner.
    “Do you think it’s the worst Thanksgiving ever?” their mother asked Felix without turning toward him.
    “Of course not,” Felix lied.

    The dining room at the Island Retirement Center was decorated festively, with straw cornucopias filled with plastic vegetables on each table, burnt-orange tablecloths and napkins, anda big papier-mâché turkey wearing a pilgrim’s hat hanging from the main lighting fixture.
    Great-Aunt Maisie believed in arriving late and making a grand entrance. So she made them all wait in her room until they would be exactly fifteen minutes late. She and their mother had a glass of champagne and some Niçoise olives, Great-Aunt Maisie freshened up her Chanel Red lipstick, and then they finally made their way to the dining room.
    En route, Great-Aunt Maisie whispered in Felix’s ear, “Where has your latest adventure taken the two of you?”
    She was moving slower than last time he saw her, so he had a chance to explain without his mother, who was ahead of them by quite a bit, hearing him.
    “The preservation society came in and decorated Elm Medona,” he told Great-Aunt Maisie.
    She rolled her eyes. “I bet it looks just dreadful.”
    “No, it’s really fancy,” Felix said. “But they put a wreath right over the wall with the staircase.”
    Great-Aunt Maisie came to a stop, her hands gripping the sides of her walker so hard they trembled.
    “So take the wreath down. That isn’t very difficult to figure out, is it?” she said.
    “We tried,” Felix began.
    She slapped the walker, hard. “Tried? You mean you couldn’t get it down?”
    “I mean we got caught,” Felix said.
    Their mother had stopped to wait for them, and Maisie, who had stormed ahead of her, stopped, too, her eyes on Felix and their great-aunt.
    “So try again,” Great-Aunt Maisie hissed at him.
    “We can’t,” Felix whispered. “They said that if we even set foot in there they’ll kick us out.”
    “What? Who said that?”
    “The preservation society,” Felix told her.
    “Is he slowing you down?” their mother said to Great-Aunt Maisie as she hurried to help her along.
    “Oh, get out of my way,” Great-Aunt Maisie said, pushing past their mother and then Maisie.
    “Oh dear,” their mother said. “She’s in a foul mood.”

    The turkey was dry. The mashed potatoes were lumpy. The gravy wasn’t hot. And they only served cranberries from a can. Maisie ate only the green bean casserole. Great-Aunt Maisie drank too much champagne. Felix ate some white meat but withoutany gravy. And their mother ate nothing at all until the pumpkin pie was served.
    “This is the worst Thanksgiving I’ve had since 1922,” Great-Aunt Maisie said.
    “I am sorry,” their mother said. “Maybe we should have had it at home.”
    “Humph,” Great-Aunt Maisie said.
    A woman in a bright-orange suit stood at a podium at the front of the room and spoke into the microphone.
    “For those of you who don’t know me,” she said, “my name is Abby Bain, and I’m in charge of special events here at the Island Retirement Center.”
    There