The Masks: Thanksgiving Mini-Scene

Alice sat at her desk sorting through photos she took of various businesses in the Nests, all with decorative turkeys and colorful wreaths showing the Thanksgiving spirit. She spent the afternoon taking pictures, walking around the Nests, enjoying the warm weather, sunshine and chilly breeze with her camera, as people shopped at stores or ate at restaurants and cafes. 

She stopped by Eddie’s Bar to visit the owner, an old family friend, and he offered to take her to dinner but she declined. She appreciated the offer but she didn’t feel like celebrating the holiday. Besides, Eddie had his own annual Thanksgiving tradition. Alice didn’t want to take him away from it. 

She returned to an empty house, went to her bedroom and started uploading her photos to her laptop, so she could edit them, add colors and filters, to show what she saw in each image.

She paused on the photo of a young couple, a man and a woman, sitting at a table outside of a small cafe decorated with colorful strings of leaves, smiling, laughing, with their daughter, a cute, nine-year-old girl using crayons to color the paper placemat. 

A small, happy family enjoying a nice day. 

She made the photo light, reminiscent, like a beloved memory. 

Back when Alice’s family was whole, she and her parents had Thanksgiving dinner together in their little, cozy dining room. Her parents weren’t close with their families, so it was always just the three of them for holidays and sometimes, Alice’s best friend, Jess, but not on Thanksgiving. 

Jess spent Thanksgiving with her family, which meant this year, Alice was alone. 

She leaned against the back of her chair, tired, sad, remembering the millions of dinners she shared with her parents, surrounded by the silence of her present, in a house that no longer felt like home. 

Her father, Mason, wasn’t there. Alice didn’t know where he was. 

A quiet tapping at the window yanked her from her worry, and she crinkled her eyebrows, surprised by who was on the opposite side of the glass; Cece stood on the trellis propped up outside Alice’s window with a takeout bag from Linda’s Diner.

Cece gestured for Alice to open the window. 

Alice obeyed. She unlocked the window and pushed it open. “What are you doing here?”

Cece put the takeout bag on the windowsill. “Linda’s Thanksgiving special. One night only.” 

“I thought you had plans with your, uh, your crew,” Alice said. Cece called her friends the ‘the crew.’ They were a group of street kids turned criminals who had been together for years. 

Alice put the takeout bag on her desk.

“I do. You’re a surprise pitstop,” Cece hoisted herself up onto the window, swinging her legs over, as she entered the bedroom. She sat on Alice’s full-size bed, the green and purple striped comforter, legs crossed like a pretzel. “I figured you’d be on your own tonight again. Thought you could use some company.”

Alice opened the takeout bag and pulled out two foam boxes, each containing a classic Linda’s Diner Thanksgiving dinner. It smelled incredible, the green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, stuffing, ham, yams, and turkey slices with gravy. She would’ve ordered a side of macaroni and cheese too but Cece didn’t know that. It didn’t matter. 

Alice appreciated Cece bringing her dinner and wanting to make sure she was okay.

Alice smiled. “Happy Thanksgiving, Cece.” 

“You too, Al,” Cece said.