Chapter 2: Thanksgiving, Part 2
When Devon came back out with Bonnie, he faintly caught the tail-end of a conversation between his niece and Kitt.
"…it's agreed, then. You'll have to talk to Bonnie. I'll do what I can and get Laura to help, too."
"You know your uncle is still a little irate over what Laura Mariz pulled the same day that you arrived, Rissie. If he forces me to 'spill it'-- I'll see what I can do."
"Just what are you two plotting about now…?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing bad," child and AI replied at the same time.
"Just holiday related," Marissa added.
He shook his head wryly, "Well, I have a bit of a plot myself…and I am going to need both of you to help me."
Marissa looked from the voice modulator to her uncle, before she said, "Lemme guess…this plot of yours involves 2 days from now?"
He sounded bemused as he asked, "Does yours?"
"Since there is a 99.99 probability that the two of you are talking about the same 'plan', perhaps we should just say so flat out. Yes, it involves Thanksgiving Day."
"I thought so. In that case, let's get started, shall we? Beginning with the decorations that Michael was originally planning on picking up?"
"He already got them. They're in the backseat, on the floor. I didn't mention this before, but he had forgotten something in the store that was also on the list and went back in. A moment later was when the store was held up."
"What'd he forget?"
"Beverages."
"I'll take care of that, Kitt," Devon replied, "For now, though, we should get back to the Foundation. When we do, my dear, see if you can find Laura. I want to see her."
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"Que…? You want me to do what…?"
"Visit Michael tomorrow. Rissie and I will be there later, but if I know him, he'll try to leave AMA, especially with Thanksgiving being so close."
"You sure about this, Devon…? I figured you'd be busy getting ready for the party tomorrow."
"Speaking of that, it's been rescheduled for tomorrow evening. That way, the entire time day after tomorrow will be open."
"Does papa know about this?"
"Yes, he does. Now…will you help us?"
"Devon, you know the answer to that already. Michael's getting the short end of the stick."
"Good. Be ready in the morning after breakfast, Laura."
"Si."
The Mexican girl left the apartments, closing the door behind her.
A little voice came from the kitchen, saying, "I'm still surprised you agreed so quickly to getting Laura into this plan. Like Kitt said, you don't really like her."
He walked back into the kitchen, replying, "Marissa, there's a difference between disliking a person and feeling the same about her actions. I'm still not too happy that she tried to teach you self-defense without telling me, but all in all, Laurine is a rather nice girl…even if she's taken on some of Michael's characteristics."
She chuckled and looked up from the printout, then stood and turned towards the stove.
Devon shook his head, "Marissa, I told you before…you don't have to try cooking for me. Children your age shouldn't be doing that for another year or two."
Before Kitt had found her, one of the things that Douglas Parkson had made her do was to cook a meal or two a day…and she wasn't allowed to eat them.
"I'm sorry, uncle."
"I know, it's a habit…and we have a long road ahead of us, getting rid of the bad ones."
She nodded and sat back down.
Usually, he would have the chefs make the meals, but at times, such as twice a month, he would do the cooking himself. Even though it had been four months total since the fateful day when Devon and the others had discovered Kitt's secret, he still found it a little unusual that he was cooking dinner for two.
"After dinner, you're taking a bath," he added.
"You know what's also strange…?"
"What is it?"
"Back then, it was forbidden to wash up. If I did, I was in big trouble. Now, being clean is a daily thing."
He peered at her a moment, then said quietly, "A lot of things are different now, my dear…for both of us. I wouldn't change a thing if I could, though."
"Me neither."
He smiled warmly and ruffled her hair lightly, then said, "Tomorrow afternoon, we'll go over to the hospital, as I told Laura."
She nodded, then asked, "She mentioned something about school…and said to ask you what's going to happen there."
Devon paused in his cooking and replied, "I'm not sure it'd be a good idea for you to be going to public school…at this point, it'd be more of a culture shock than even you can handle. Rissie, have you ever heard of home study?"
"Umm, no."
"It basically means that instead of going to a public school, the child would be learning her lessons at home…in a way, you've already done some of that, even before we found you in the semi."
"Oh? How?"
"Through Kitt. I know he's been teaching you things like familial structure and address, math, weather…"
"That's what home study is like…?"
"Yes. How would you like to continue learning things that way?"
"I'd like that!"
He smiled broadly and crouched until he was at her level, then hugged her.
He's right, he thought, Even though I got a taste of raising children on the day we returned to the Foundation, I won't let it deter me…because I do love Marissa, just as much as I do Michael.
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Michael looked about him as the doctor walked out of his room. From the time that Devon and Bonnie had left to now, it had been an agonizing, long day. He had wanted to talk to Kitt, who had to have been worried sick, moreso than before. After all, this had been the first time since that Montana convention that something like this had happened…and Verona's words still rang in his mind.
Protect Kitt and nurture him.
She had not specified yet just what she meant, but regardless, he meant to do precisely that. After all, even though he had never met her before, he knew how dear she had been to Devon…and how dear Kitt was to Michael.
Now, he just wanted to get out of here. After all, tomorrow was Thanksgiving.
Laura had arrived in the morning, surprising him. He didn't know the young woman that well, thanks to the fact that he was out on the road most of the time. When she came, she had brought a chess set. Borrowed from Devon, of course.
"He's teaching her how to play chess, you know," she had remarked.
"Oh he is, is he…? How's that going?"
"It took a few times, but she caught on. She beat won a game against him last night, her first."
This made his eyes widen a little. "Marissa Miles, beating Devon at chess? This I have got to see."
"Sometime you might. Right now, though, your rook's in danger."
"Just who's been teaching you this? Devon?"
"Nope."
He had sighed and grumbled, "Kitt. Figures."
"I'm back," he heard her call out. She had been at the cafeteria, getting lunch.
"You know, Laura, I can't see how you can stand hospital food."
She replied, "Just hold your nose, chew a couple of times, then swallow quickly. Seriously, though…before papa and I came to the United States and FLAG, there was a time where we didn't get much to eat, being on the run so much…so I'm thankful for whatever I do eat."
"On the run…? As in being criminals?"
"No, not that at all. A man named Cortez was trying to kill us, just because of the way we were born…especially me. We managed to disappear legally and got the papers to come across the border. Senor—I mean Devon saw something in mi papa and in me. He took us both in. Of course, that was before Senor Knight died."
"That explains why you talk to him like you do, even if you father doesn't like it."
"Si. I was seven when Devon changed, became more silent and withdrawn…and for a few months, when he was by himself, he'd cry. He never even let Senor Knight know how deeply the incident had really hurt him."
"When his sister was killed and Marissa was kidnapped."
"Yes. And don't you ever tell him that I said any of this. I'm not supposed to tell anyone."
"My lips are sealed."
"Good. I do know one thing, Michael."
"And what's that?"
"If you die, it'll be much worse than when Verona was murdered."
"I'll keep that in mind, Laura."
"Keep what in mind?" they heard a familiar, British accent from behind them.
Both looked and saw Devon standing in the door, with Marissa beside him in a green dress, the same one she had been in on her 9th birthday.
"'llo, you two," he greeted, "Just talking about life and death, Devon."
The older man nodded a bit dubiously, then said, "How are you feeling, my boy?"
"Better…and wanting to get out of here. As it is, I'm gonna miss that Thanksgiving party of yours."
Marissa frowned and said, "Michael, you got hurt really bad. You don't wanna get worse, do you? And you don't wanna scare Uncle Devon or Kitty, right?"
Devon nodded, "Not exactly in those words, but well put. We will be by tomorrow, all of us."
"Hey, any chance on talking to Kitt? He's got to be worried."
"Now how did I know you were going to say that?" Kitt's voice emitted from Marissa's comlink.
The younger man grinned, "How're you doin', buddy?"
"More relieved now that I actually hear you. Marissa's right, Michael. You're not going anywhere until the doctor says you are, for once, and not a minute sooner."
"Alright, alright, already," he replied, putting his hands up in surrender, "I know when I'm outvoted…especially by a kid. But really, it kills me to know I'm gonna be stuck here while the Thanksgiving party is going on tomorrow, and Marissa's first, too."
"Michael, must you use that slang term…?"
"Ok, I'm sorry. Ok, Kitt?"
"Forgiven, Michael."
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The time between Devon and Marissa leaving his room to daybreak was just as slow…although later on, a few television shows and favorite movies were on the air…including a favorite of his, The Empire Strikes Back. After then was a movie he had not seen before but heard about, called Spaceballs, which he watched…and found himself laughing to.
Laura, you sure know a good movie when you see one, he thought.
When he awoke near mid-afternoon, it was to the sight of one of the nurses.
"Good, you're awake," she said to him, "You have some visitors."
"Visitors? Like who?"
"Like us," Devon's voice came from outside the hospital room as he came in, with Marissa behind him.
"So what're you up to…? I thought you'd be getting ready for the party by now."
"Party?" the older man asked innocently.
"Yeah, as in the Thanksgiving party? Have 'em every year?"
"Which one do you mean?" Bonnie asked as she came in as well, with Laura Mariz right behind her. Both women were carrying things, like dishes, plates, utensils, and cups.
Behind them, Doctors Alpert and Carlyle came in and out, carrying all kinds of containers that contained food in them.
"Wh—what's all this…?" Michael asked, surprised.
"You were right when I said that I would be getting ready for a Thanksgiving party, my boy. Since you can't be at the party, we brought it to you."
"H-how…how'd you…whose idea was—"
"Devon and Marissa's," Bonnie replied as Alpert came in with a cooked turkey, "The annual party for everyone else was yesterday."
Michael looked rather speechless.
"I think he's surprised, uncle," Marissa said in a pseudo-whisper.
"That obvious?" he replied, apparently joining in the teasing.
"Yeah, that plain. Guys…I…I don't know what to say."
"That's a first," Devon replied, slightly teasing, "As Marissa learned and we re-learned, this is a day to be thankful for all the good things in your life…and your being alive, recovering and not being alone certainly counts."
"As Michael would say, hear hear," Kitt said.
"He's got that right, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend Thanksgiving with than my family," Michael agreed, "All of the family, including the littlest one."
Devon was pouring drinks into the cups, mostly coffee, although two of them had soda in them. Bonnie was busy serving food onto the plates.
He gave each of them a cup, then said, "A toast…to the first holidays in your life, Rissie…and to hopefully many more full of good memories for all of us."
The cups all touched, including the little girl's. Marissa had to admit, it might not have been a normal Thanksgiving, but it was her first…and she wouldn't have traded it for anything.