"So what's to
eat?"
Too much, Spence decided as
the family gathered around the table late that afternoon.
The huge turkey in the
center of the hand-crocheted tablecloth was only the beginning. Faithful to her
adopted country's holiday, Nadia had prepared a meal that was an American
tradition from the chestnut dressing to the pumpkin pies.
Wide-eyed, Freddie gawked,
staring at platter after platter. The room was full of noise as everyone talked
over and around everyone else. The china was mismatched. Old Sasha lay sprawled
under the table near her feet, hoping for a few unobtrusive handouts.
She was sitting on a wobbly
chair and the New York Yellow Pages.
As far as she was
concerned, it was the best day of her life.
Nadia, her cheeks rosy with
the pleasure of having her family together, slipped a hand into Yuri's as he
lifted his glass.
"Enough," he said, and effectively silenced the
table.
"You can argue later
about who let white mice loose in science lab. Now we toast. We are thankful for
this food that Nadia and my girls have fixed for us. And more thankful for the
friends and family who are here together to enjoy it. We give thanks, as we did
on our first Thanksgiving in our country, that we are free."
"To freedom,"
Mikhail said as he lifted his glass.
"To freedom,"
Yuri agreed. His eyes misted and he looked around the table.
"And to
family."
Taming Natasha
