Turkey Day

By Ruthless Bunny

Daria smeared the cloth across the coffee table. The smell of lemon Pledge freshening the stale winter air as it conditioned the wood. Daria saved vacuuming for last. She put the can of polish away and went to the hall closet for the Hoover. She started with the carpet and moved to the wood floors. Just a lick and a promise today. She'd leave the mopping for Trent. It was their agreement.

Now for her reward. Daria went into the kitchen and put on the kettle. She reached under the counter for the stool so she could reach the cookies. Mint Milanos. In just a few minutes she enjoyed her snack while admiring her clean house. She was just finishing up when doorbell rang.

Joyce stretched on the sofa and stood up. Normally she'd walk to the door with whatever human's opposable thumbs were working the doorknob, but in the winter she stayed well away from the blast of cold air the open door brought.

Daria looked down at two, somewhat familiar faces. "Come in, it's freezing out there." Adrian and Courtney. "We were worried about you. Are you hungry?"

They looked at each other and shrugged. "I assume that means yes. We've got some soup, I'll heat it up for you." They moved into the kitchen, dropping their backpacks on the sofa. Daria put a container in the microwave and set the timer. "Give that a couple of minutes. I'll make you some sandwiches. You eat meat right?" She reached into the cabinet for some tuna.

"Yes." Courtney responded. She seemed quiet and subdued, not her usual sassy self, although Daria had only met the kids a handful of times, they had always seemed wild.

"The phone is over there. Call your Mom and let her know that you're okay; then I'll call your uncle. You can sleep in the guest room until we figure out what we're doing." Daria put their lunch together while Adrian dialed.

"It's been disconnected." He seemed sad.

"Did you call the house?" Daria asked while she poured soup into mugs.

"Yes." He too seemed cowed.

"Well, that's gone. Faulty wiring. Apparently the whole basement was one big code violation. Try her cell phone, the number's on the board there." She indicated the dry erase board where notes and messages were kept. Jane had drawn a gryphon in blue at the corner.

"Mom, it's me. We're at Uncle Trent's, you know the number. Call us when you get this message. Bye." He hung up. "Voice mail."

"Well sit down and eat. We're just glad you're okay." Daria set them up at the table and called Trent.

"Buddy's Pool Hall," Jane answered.

"You've always wanted to say that, haven't you?"

"It's my dream job. Now if I could just get a job at a mortuary so I could say, 'You stab 'em, we slab 'em.' So what's up?"

Daria walked into the kitchen, "the kids are here. I made them some lunch but I don't know what else to do. Do you suppose that Trent could come home?"

"Just a sec. TRENT!" Jane screamed across the pool hall to Trent who was lounging on the sofa watching Judge Judy. Daria heard some muffled conversation.

Trent picked up the receiver with a sigh, "Hey Daria. So they showed up?"

"Yes, and they seem okay. I gave them some lunch." That was about as much as she knew to do and she hoped that he'd come home to take over.

"The bookkeeper's coming in later so I can't leave. Just put them in my old room for now. Let them watch TV until I get home." He sighed again.

"Okay, but don't we need to notify the authorities? Aren't their faces on a milk carton somewhere?" She glanced over at them as they tried to tempt Joyce with pieces of tuna from their sandwiches. The cat was on the table; a place that everyone, including the cat, knew was off limits. "Hey!" She motioned with her hand and all three guilty parties jumped. Joyce vaulted to the window seat and glared at Daria, "we don't encourage the cat to get on the table. If you want to give her something put it in her bowl."

"Sorry," Adrian apologized and got up to place a morsel of tuna on a small pile of Tender Vittles. Joyce licked her paw, affecting disinterest.

Daria nodded, "Thank you," she returned to the telephone, "okay, so I'll get them settled in, how long will it take Summer to get here to bring them home?"

Trent rubbed the back of his head, "I don't know, I suspect that we'll be having houseguests for a while. As for the authorities, I don't think it's an issue. Just wait for us to get there tonight. Jane and I will try to come up with a plan or something."

"Oh. Okay." Daria looked at the kids who had finished their lunch and were playing with the cat. She hung up the phone and turned her attention to her young charges. "We have a game plan. You are staying here with us for the time being. Let's go to your room and put away your stuff."

Daria indicated for them to pick up their gear and head upstairs with her. Joyce followed the procession, not wanting to be left out. Daria opened the door to Trent's old room and indicated to Adrian that he should make himself at home.

"I get this room to myself?" He bounced on the bed.

"Is that a problem?"

"No, I just don't remember the last time I had a room to myself." He looked around and opened a bureau drawer. "Cool. Can I play the stereo?"

"Sure, just don't blast us out of the house. Be sure to put any CD's back in their cases. I'm about to do some laundry so if you have any dirty clothes put them in here," she indicated the plastic laundry basket in the closet, "and I'll throw them in with ours."

"Our clothes are beyond dirty," observed Courtney.

"Uh-huh," Daria said, trying not to betray her disgust, "maybe we'll do a special load of yours first then. I guess you'll want showers too."

She put Courtney in Quinn's room, with explicit instructions not to play with any of her things. The rest of the afternoon was taken up with laundry and scrubbing two weeks worth of road off of the kids. By the time Trent and Jane got back the three of them were playing Uno in the living room. Daria kissed Trent hello, "Did you bring dinner?"

Jane held up two bags from Outback. "All covered. I'll get the plates." Jane moved into the kitchen, "I need two kids to help me!" she called and Courtney and Adrian padded in to help her.

Trent pulled Daria away from the activity in the kitchen and motioned for her to sit down on the sofa.

Daria saw that he was distressed, "So what do we do now?"

Trent shrugged, "Daria, I know that you want to save the world, but we can't keep them. I guess we'll have to send them back to their mother."

She hugged him, but was puzzled by his reaction. "Of course we'll send them back to their mother. No other thought occurred to me. What were you thinking?"

Trent coughed. "I sort of thought that we'd get stuck with them. Permanently."

Daria blanched, "are you kidding?"

Trent sighed, "I wish I was, but my family's history…"

"Say no more. I understand now. I promise Trent, no matter what happens, they won't be staying with us." She hugged him again, "Let's eat dinner and you can call Summer later, after they're in bed." She imagined him laying down the law, "we'll both call her," she amended, "it'll be fine. Trust me." She smiled enigmatically.

It wasn't all that odd that the kids were hanging around the house. Most schools were out for holiday break. Jane and Daria were enjoying their winter break as well. Sometimes the kids went into the pool hall with Trent. Joyce enjoyed the extra attention that all the humans crowding the house gave her, but sometimes she missed having the sunbeam in the dining room to herself.

Conversations with Summer had been less than rewarding. They had consisted of vague promises of 'trying to somehow manage to get out there.' Considering that her children had 'managed' it, the promise rang hollow. As the days stretched towards Thanksgiving it became apparent that unless drastic measures were taken, Daria and Trent would be enrolling two kids in school.

Trent realized this before Daria did. She seemed to be having fun finding recipes, making cookies and in general living out a holiday fantasy. Jane and the kids all seemed to be elbow deep in gingerbread, sugar cookies and Yorkshire pudding at intervals.

Trent brooded as conversations about Yorkshire pudding traveled from the crowded kitchen to the living room.

"Daria, look at this, if we put it in with the roast, they'll puff up with the 'drippings'. What are 'drippings'?" Jane read an entry off of a recipe website.

"Fat. They puff up in fat. We can do them in muffin tins with shortening." Daria was consulting a battered cookbook.

"What is the deal with these anyway?" Jane demanded to know, "we've roasted potatoes with success, these have the stench of failure written all over them."

"It's a challenge," Daria pronounced, "if we can do this, then we dominate the kitchen. Besides wouldn't it be an achievement? Yorkshire pudding, who else do you know who makes it?" She stared at the batter, not daring to stir it, lest it loose its elasticity.

"What is Yorkshire pudding exactly?" Jane asked peering into the bowl.

Daria shrugged, "I don't know, a member of the donut family, only not sweet. It holds gravy. We've gone this far. Let's put them in with the roast. They'll get some meaty flavor that way."

"And if they suck?" Jane asked while watching Daria drop spoonfuls of batter into the roasting pan.

"Deny all knowledge. We've still got potatoes."

Trent listened to the clang of kitchen implements as he pondered his situation. So far Courtney and Adrian had been perfectly behaved. Even after they had been made to understand that they didn't cause the fire, they continued to be model children. If Trent didn't know any better, he'd suspect that they were trying to get him to take them in. He tried to avoid them, but they were family after all, and when they weren't raising three different kinds of hell, they were fun to be around.

He had formed a plan designed to force Summer's hand. The only problem is that he knew that it would work. His plan, if brought to its conclusion, would result in the kids residing permanently with him.

He wondered what it was about his karma that made him the raiser of children in his family. First his sister, now his niece and nephew. He wondered if he needed to have his own children to break the cycle. How many generations of children would need to be brought up before he could resign? Perhaps that was his fate, to be constantly surrounded by the kids of his less responsible family members. He shuddered. An image of Wind's as yet unborn children flashed in his mind and he tried to shake it off.

Trent dialed the now familiar number, expecting to get voice mail, so he was surprised that Summer answered. He half-expected that she was ducking his calls. "Hey Summer, I have an idea."

"Oh, you know I was meaning to get back to you, but things have been really crazy here." She seemed to be talking to him from a crowded place.

"Right, here too. You know, it's nearly Thanksgiving, I think it would be great if you could be here with the kids for the holiday." He waited for the protest.

"Oh, that would be great, but you know, finances…" She left it unsaid, it was a common theme in family discussions; how the lack of finances kept them from doing something that they didn't want to do.

"I'll tell you what, I'll spring for the ticket. Call it an early Christmas present. Just pick it up at the ticket counter." He smiled, now what would her excuse be?

The silence on her side of the phone made it obvious that she didn't want to come, didn't want to take her kids back with her, didn't want any of the responsibility that she had taken upon herself. "Oh Trent, I couldn't…"

He lost his patience, "Stop playing games Summer, get your shit together, figuratively and literally. Go to the airport, American Airlines, a ticket is waiting for you. It's a direct flight at 2:00 PM tomorrow. Do bring photo ID; do NOT bring any contraband. I will pick you up at Logan." He panted, it was an effort for him to be stern, but he was protecting himself and Daria. These were her kids; let her raise them. There was only a small amount of guilt nagging at him. Poor kids.

"Shit Trent, some of us have jobs and other…things we're in the middle of here…" Summer wasn't taking it lying down.

"Summer, I'm not playing around here. You are collecting child support from two different guys. At this point you are collecting that money fraudulently. I will report you, to the state and to whatever other authorities I need to." He waited.

"Since when did you stop being so mellow?" She was cowed and compliant.

"Since I got my own life. You picked your life, now get your ass up here. We'll put you up, stay through the weekend. We'll send you home in time for the kids to get back to school." He blew his breath out. He was lightheaded.

"Fine. I'll see you at baggage claim." She replied, none too pleased.

Trent threw the receiver back on the sofa and leaned back, covering his face with his hands. "Damn."

Jane came in wearing an apron and sipping soda out of a large, plastic tumbler. "What was that all about?"

"Summer, she's coming here tomorrow."

Jane smiled, "Great, she'll be here for Thanksgiving! You know, I've always talked about how I like TV dinners for holidays, but I think this year I can actually get my hopes up! I mean, Daria's getting this roast beef thing down, who knows? Maybe we can work up to a bird."

Trent felt pity for his sister. Deep down he always suspected that all she wanted was a normal family. Mom, dad, brothers and sisters. People around who would talk to her, appreciate her and love her. He nodded, "yeah, it should be pretty good. We've got over a week to put it together.

Jane sat for a moment, "wow, do we even know how to act at Thanksgiving?"

Trent smiled; he decided that he wanted to create a holiday for his family. He couldn't fix them, but he could do this one, small thing. "I think we can learn."

"Oh, maybe we can even do a family Christmas!" Jane stood up and waved her hands, then sat down again.

"Slow down, let's get through Turkey Day first." Trent admonished, "if there's no bloodshed we can think about Christmas."

Jane started to respond but was interrupted.

A thundering knock came from the door. "Let me in!"

Jane peeked out through the window and saw a figure holding a stack of shoeboxes. "Daria! Mike's here!" She opened the door and let him in. Just as he was inside, he let the boxes drop.

"Whew! That was an armful." He looked around at the orange boxes with athletic shoes spilling out of them. "I think I got enough for everyone!"

Courtney and Adrian ran in from the kitchen to see what the commotion was about. Courtney held Joyce on her shoulder, like an infant. Joyce protested. "Mrow!"

Mike knelt down on the floor and began doling out swag. "Jane, these are for you, these are for Joe. Courtney and Adrian, here are the latest and greatest for you. Trent, I thought you'd like these in black." He had two boxes remaining, a pair of pink sneakers for Quinn and a special box for Daria. "Daria! I have something for you." He held the box out to her as she wiped flour off of her hands onto a dishtowel.

"Thanks." She opened the box and observed a baby blue pair with a dark blue swoosh on them. "Cute."

"Hey, it's a perk of being a spokesman." He smiled as everyone tried shoes on.

Jane shoved her foot into an expensive and sophisticated running shoe in lime green, "explain to me again how you can endorse something you don't wear, for a sport you're not playing."

He laughed, the NHL strike/lock-out meant that although he had a contract, that he wasn't playing. "Simple, it's a straightforward campaign, 'You Gotta Wear Something' a bunch of us are doing it. I'm standing next to Mario Lemieux in the print ad. It's money coming in. I guess I'll just rest up and try again next year. If we still don't have a team, I'll have to play in the Czech Republic." He headed back to the kitchen for a beer.

Joyce played with the tissue paper, to Courtney and Adrian's delight. "Trent! Look!" They giggled. Again, he felt a twinge of guilt.

Summer had arrived with an army surplus duffle bag filled with broomstick skirts. The kids stopped smiling when she arrived and kept to themselves. Jane tried to spend more time with her, inviting her to hang out with her at the pool hall during her shift. Summer divided her time between talking to her friend Serena on her cell phone and smoking packs of clove cigarettes on the back porch.

One afternoon when they could cajole Summer to the pool hall the kids helped clean the place while she sat playing old songs on the jukebox.

Jane, who had grown weary of her sister's self-imposed ennui, tried to engage her in conversation, "So what are you doing in Lawndale now?"

Summer coughed and stubbed out her cigarette, "I'm staying with Serena."

Jane put away a clean load of glasses, "what about work?"

"Well, I had a gig at this shop on Dega Street, they sold tea and coffee, but the owner was a jerk so I left." She shrugged, as though Jane should understand.

"Required you to show up to work and stuff?" Jane was starting to regret having Summer around, thought she should change her name to 'Bummer'.

"It's not like working for your brother." Summer responded.

Trent came out of the storage room with a case of beer. "Working for me?"

Jane explained, "Summer was just telling me that working for you is more like a spa day than actual work."

He put the case on the bar, where Jane began to unload it into the cooler for happy hour. "Right. Hey, I know, since you're between gigs, and you don't have a permanent address, why don't you work for me?"

"Yeah Summer, it's a real treat here." Jane crammed the bottles into the ice viciously.

"Work. Here?" She looked around and began to suspect that she had fallen into a trap.

Trent leaned against the bar. "Sure, it'll be great. You can work here and live here." He spread his hands out, as though asking her to survey his domain.

"Live. Here?" She began to look like a deer in the headlights.

"There's an apartment upstairs. Two bedrooms, comes with furniture and everything." He made the offer openly. He knew that the girls in the restaurant still lived up there. He knew that he didn't need any extra help in the pool hall. He knew that there was no way that she'd stick around. A steady job and a fixed address were just not her scene.

"Oh, I don't know…you seem to have everything all covered here." Her hands shook as she lit another cigarette.

"But I'd like to help you out. You need to get back on your feet. What kind of brother would I be if I didn't lend a hand?" He reached back into the cooler for a water.

"Can I think about it? I've got some stuff going on with Serena and I've got a lead on a job in Lawndale." She inhaled deeply. "Besides, the kids are enrolled in school in Maryland." As if that mattered.

The next day Summer and her baggage were gone. There was a note left on the dining room table:

To Whom It May Concern:

Please be advised that my children Courtney Elizabeth Wellington and Adrian Byron Wolf are in the care and custody of my brother Trent Lane. He has full and complete authority to seek care for them on my behalf as well as to enroll them in school.

Sincerely,

Summer Lane

Daria, Trent and Jane ate toast and coffee while digesting the note.

Jane scrutinized it, "no misspellings. She's getting better. So I guess the kids are staying in Boston."

Trent couldn't express what he felt. He was so angry that he just shook his head and crumbled his breakfast.

Daria took his plate away and rubbed his shoulders, "it's okay, we'll manage. I guess we've got to enroll them in school, get them some clothes," she thought some more, "I don't know, what else?" Daria was about making lists. Any problem could be handled with a list.

Jane stirred her coffee, "you know Trent, there is another way."

He looked up, his eyes dark and terrible, "what? Put them in foster care? Try and find their fathers? What?"

"I could take them." She said it quietly and sat back in her chair waiting for his eruption.

"You? Why you?" He shook his head as though mentally calculating how many more years of child rearing he had until he could be free.

"You did your part and look how great I turned out. Joe and I will take them. It'll be a wee cramped in our apartment, but hey, you slept in a tent for most of 1990…"

"No, I'm more equipped than you are. We have the space here." He seemed resigned.

"Actually, Joe and I are thinking about getting a house. We were going to ask you to co-sign or something. We've put an offer in, but we're not closing until January." She smiled shyly, "We're getting married."

Trent smiled. It was a ray of good news in a morass of aggravation. "Married? Wow." Where did the time go? Sure she was young, but Joe was a good guy and Jane had a good head on her shoulders. "I'll tell you what, I'll co-sign and I'll help out."

Jane laughed, "I thought you might. Thanks. So it's settled. After Thanksgiving the kids will come to us, we'll put them to work with the move."

Daria sat confused. "I followed the part where Jane offered to take the kids. I followed the part where Jane said that she and Joe were getting married. I even followed the part where Jane said that she and Joe were buying a house. Where I lost the thread was the part where Trent is co-signing and 'helping' out." She turned to him, "Trent, can you explain this?"

Trent grumbled and Jane turned on him. "You haven't told her? Why not?"

"It never came up." He avoided Daria's stare.

"What? What is it?" She wasn't angry, just curious.

Trent didn't seem to be saying anything, so Jane stepped in, "Trent has money. A lot of it. Enough so that he never has to work. Quinn hooked him up with her accountant and he's all squared away."

Daria coughed. It gave her time to formulate a response. "Never has to work? I just thought he chose not to work. Are you serious?"

Two dark heads nodded up and down.

"Trent, why didn't you tell me? I've been so worried about you." She spoke quietly, not wanting to accuse or to scream at him.

"I'm sorry, it's a hard subject to bring up." He patted her hand, "Are you mad at me?"

"Mad?" She thought for a moment, "not mad, more…surprised. And…hurt. I guess everyone but me knew. I can't imagine why you would share this with everyone…except me." She got up, "I'll be in my room."

Trent rose to follow her, "Daria…"

"No. Give me some time. I need to think." She walked slowly up the stairs, Joyce following a judicious distance behind, pausing only to give Trent a Siamese look of distain.

"What was that?" Trent was befuddled.

Jane shrugged, "I don't know. What did you expect? Why didn't you tell her?"

He paused, "I guess I was afraid something would change. Maybe she'd want something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. There isn't anything I wouldn't give her. I think I liked that she was with me even though I had no prospects. I think I've been waiting for her to wake up and realize that I'm a big loser. I thought that if I told her then she'd hang around for the wrong reasons. I'm an asshole."

"Yeah. You're an asshole. But it's curable. Give her some time. We can get back to this," she indicated Summer's letter.

"So what are we doing?" Trent asked.

Jane smiled, "I have a plan."

Daria came down after Jane had gone home and found Trent teasing the cat. He jumped up when she entered the living room.

"So are we okay?"

She sighed, "Yes, we're okay. So what did you think? That I'd freak out?"

"Well you did a little." He smiled.

"True. Okay, so I'm over it. How much are we talking about here?" She smiled; it was dazzling to think of Trent as having money.

He liked that she was matter of fact about it. It made him realize that she was just interested in the abstract. "A little more than two and a half."

Daria thought for a moment and cocked her head, "two and a half? What?"

"Million."

If she were a cartoon there would have been a side view of machinery in her brain, big cogs and wheels grinding away. She shook her head, "Million?"

"Give or take, I still get royalties." He smiled modestly.

"Million? Wow. That's quite a sum." She sat down. "Wow. So what are you doing with it?"

He sat on the sofa and cuddled her, "Not much. I've got the pool hall, but that's paying for itself now. I've wanted to buy you a present for a while, but I didn't know how to bring it up. What would you like?"

"What would I like? Hmmm. My parents would like us to come for Christmas. How about that?" She snuggled in.

"But we're having a family Christmas. Jane has her heart set on it." He hated to deny her.

"What if we all go?" She laughed.

"All of us? I suppose we can sleep in sleeping bags." He considered.

"Oh brother. Trent, we can stay in a hotel. My dad gets a discount at the one he works at. We'll all get rooms. Jane will get her family Christmas and we'll get to go to Las Vegas. Your treat."

"Okay. If Jane agrees, then we'll do it."

Jane's phone rang sometime after midnight; luckily Jane and Joe were up watching television. "Hello?"

"You bitch." The voice at the other end seemed slow and shrill.

"Hello Summer." Jane smiled; she had been waiting for over a week for this shoe to drop.

"You stole my money," she slurred, "I'll just take them back."

Jane sat up in bed, "I don't think so. We've already been granted temporary custody and I'll fight you. I have resources, I have your kids and you only have yourself to blame. I went to family court and made it legal, you were supposed to show up, but you 'failed to appear' nearly a week ago. I'm their guardian now. If you want to do something about it go ahead, it starts at the courthouse. You know the place."

"Be reasonable Jane, the child support is my only income." Summer wheedled.

"Gee, I thought the child support was to support the children. I guess you'll have to get a job or something." Jane yawned. "I'm going to bed now. I've got things to do tomorrow. I suggest you do the same."

"What happened to you? Both you and Trent, you've changed." Summer took a drag on her cigarette.

"Yes, we've grown up. We're responsible adults. I can understand why you don't recognize it. Summer, it's fine if you want to drift in this world, but it's not cool for you to do it with your kids in tow. They're being educated, they have a stabile home life, it's good for them. Trent and I are doing what's best for them."

The response on the other end was nearly unintelligible. I'm hanging up now." Jane put the receiver in the cradle and turned it off.

"Good night, Joe." She kissed him.

"Good night, Killer."