Mary Beth dropped me off at the curb in front of the Pastors Crompton's big house up on the hill. Whereas the Simmons lived in a soulless McMansion in one of the newest subdivisions in town, the Cromptons lived in the "best" neighborhood in town. It was a cluster of oversized, over-designed, and over-priced houses nestled on a hillside overlooking town. Across the street, a house had a huge glass foyer built around a pine tree, so that the pine tree was both inside and outside of the house. Poor thing was dropping most of its needles.

"Right. Let's do this."

I smoothed down my Wednesday Addams goth girl dress (still the only dress I owned, a major oversight by Ann Simmons, much lamented by her on this day), made sure that my black cat print school girl socks were on straight, and trooped up the meandering front walk. The path to the Crompton's front door wound through half their yard and passed over a little bridge above a fake streambed.

The doorbell played "Ode to Joy" as I waited and counted cars parked along the street. I'd got to ten when Cindy Crompton yanked open the door, a perfect Youth Pastor smile plastered on her face. It slipped for a moment as she took in my goth girl splendor.

"Well, look at you! Welcome, Welcome!" She shook my hand vigorously, and then pulled me into a foyer for a hug. "Come in! Come in!"

"Thank you for inviting me," I replied as I wriggled out of her smothering embrace.

"Oh, certainly. We couldn't have you being alone for the holidays."

I wondered what she thought the Simmons did with foster kids during holidays. We went up the little stairs from the foyer into a great room jammed with people. Cindy recaptured my hand and towed me through the crowd to the big stone fireplace.

"Everybody, Kelsey's here!"

A few people's heads turned my way. The Crompton's daughter barreled through the crowd and attached herself to my legs. "Kelsey!"

"I'm sure you remember our daughter Bethany from Halloween," Cindy said.

"Come see my pony collection!" Bethany tugged on my dress. "Is your purse a bat? Mommy! I want a bat purse!"

"Kelsey can see your ponies after dinner," Cindy said as she deftly untangled her daughter's hand from my clothing. "Go tell your father that we're out of cheese crackers on the big tray."

As Bethany scampered off, Cindy looped her arm through mine and led me to a distinguished-looking man standing on the other side of the fireplace.

"Councilman Reeves, this is Kelsey Mator."

"Kelsey Mator," he repeated in a booming voice that drew more attention than Cindy's earlier announcement. "So you're the orphan. Nice to meet you, little miss."

"I'm Mrs. Reeves," the woman standing next to him announced. She was all Gucci heels and pumpkin orange sheath dress, with lipstick to match. Her eyes traveled up and down my outfit before returning to her husband's face. "Orphan? Poor thing. How did your parents die?"

"My mother died of cancer. I never knew my father."

"But surely the authorities tried to contact him," Councilman Reeves said.

I shrugged.

"Stand up straight, dear," Mrs. Reeves admonished. "Hunching is so unattractive. Oh! Here comes Fred with his camera. Now smile pretty!"

Smile pretty. If only it were that simple. I stood like an over-sized doll while Pastor Fred and Mrs. Reeves tried out different arrangements and poses. Finally, they got the perfect shot for their "meeting of the orphan" photo op. They left shortly afterward, having other Thanksgivings among their constituents to drop in on.

I crept off to an isolated window seat overlooking the front lawn and the neighbor's glassed-in pine. In the rest of the Great Hall, the pre-dinner cocktail party got in full swing. Bethany was the only other person present who wasn't of drinking age, and she'd been banished to the den with her nanny. After a few peaceful minutes, Cindy Crompton descended again, this time with a plate full of cocktail snacks and a can of Coke.

"It will be a while before dinner. We're still waiting on a couple of people." She smiled as she handed me the plate full of decoratively arranged crackers, cheese, frosted grapes, and dried fruit covered in dark chocolate.

"Thank you."

I tried a smile and missed, my face fatigued from dealing with too many strangers all at once. If only Kim could have come as well. The Reeves would have loved that photo op. Double orphans!

"Oh, honey! You eat up. Ann Simmons explained your diet to me, and I have to tell you." Cindy sat down in the window seat with me. "It's not healthy, you young things dieting all the time. Our Heavenly Father doesn't want that. You'll end up with an eating disorder if you're not careful."

I would have blinked at her if I had control of my eyelids at all. The best I could do was stare and nod. Cindy's perpetual smile slipped.

"Is everything okay over there at the Simmons? I'm not sure that it's a safe home for young girls." She looked around furtively and whispered, "Because of Mark."

If my face had felt stiff before, now it felt wooden. I took a too-hasty sip of the Coke, snorted bubbles, choked, and then took a second more cautious sip.

"Are you okay, honey?" Cindy asked as she patted me on the back like she was burping a baby.

"I'm fine. Really."

Another middle-aged couple in expensive clothes was making a beeline for us. The man had a glass of what I supposed was whiskey, and the woman clutched the biggest glass of red wine I'd ever seen in my life. The woman's hair was cut in a perfect bob meant to disguise her aging jawline, and the man had a combover over what looked like fresh hair plugs. Both of them had foreheads even more frozen than mine, thanks to liberal Botox.

"This must be Kelsey Mator!" the woman exclaimed to Cindy.

The man crouched down, resting his hands on his charcoal wool slacks as he peered into my face.

"I knew your mother, young lady."

There were many possible replies to that. Most of them would get me sent straight to the State School. I confined myself to nodding.

"Fine woman. Don't you let anyone tell you different. It was a damned shame when she passed." He threw an apologetic glance at Cindy. "Sorry to curse in your house, ma'am."

"That's fine, Judge Whitt. I'm sure Kelsey has heard worse."

"At school," I said, forcing my mouth to talk and smile again.

Mrs. Whitt tittered. "Indeed. I have no idea why the school doesn't crack down on the trash talk more. Ever since Celestia started her Freshman year, the things that have come out of that girl's mouth." Mrs. Whitt paused. "Do you know Celestia?"

I shook my head, and Cindy elbowed me in the ribs.

"No, ma'am."

Mrs. Whitt frowned.

"Abby, Kelsey is a Senior. She wouldn't have any classes with Celestia," Cindy said.

"Well, I just thought since Celestia is so popular. She's in a lot of advanced placement classes, too. What with Kelsey being an orphan, she's probably having to do makeup work, right dear? Remedial classes?"

Her eyes were glittering with an anger that I didn't understand as she took another gulp from her huge glass of red.

"When will you graduate, honey?" Judge Whitt asked.

"May."

"Ah. Well, I see the Quansets over by the cheese dip, and I especially wanted to say hello," Judge Whitt gave me a creepy wink. "Nice meeting you, Kelsey. Chin up!"

"You feel free to say hi to Celestia anytime. She can introduce you to some nice girls." Mrs. Whitt scowled at me over her shoulder as her husband led her away. They settled in next to the couple by the cheese dip. I was very glad the cheese dip was at the other end of the Great Room.

"I've got to mingle. Are you going to be okay here?"

"Yes, thanks, Mrs. Crompton. I'll eat this." I held up the plate she'd brought me. "Thanks."

"Call me Cindy, dear. Or Pastor Cindy. You know I'm the Youth Pastor at our church, right?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

I'd been well briefed in all things Crompton and Second Baptist before I'd got here. With a refresher course from Mary Beth as she drove me over. She and Mark were going to Mark's parents' house for Thanksgiving over in the next town. Meanwhile, Ann was driving Kim to the prison for her visit with her dad. Everyone was going to be gone overnight, except me. I had no idea how I was going to get back to the Simmons' house. For a moment I felt lonely, but at least the Cromptons were letting me have food. I ate all the dark chocolate fruit while I watched the adults mix and remix and try to impress each other.

The Cromptons had table space for what looked like twenty. I suspected that there was a line of folding church tables under the beautiful linen. The chairs were all fancy padded things, so maybe not. I found my place on a place card at one end, on Cindy's right hand. The only dish I recognized on the huge buffet of food laid out on the sideboards around the main table was the turkey and some dishes of olives.

"Kelsey! As our guest of honor, we'd like you to say thanks over our food," Fred boomed down from his end of the table.

I threw what I hoped was a pleading glance at Cindy. "Please, ma'am, I'd rather not."

"Do Wiccans not say thanks for their food, honey?"

"Well, yes." Once again, I had no actual knowledge of what Wiccans did or didn't do. Other things always seemed more important than reading my Wicca for Teens book.

"Then don't be shy! We're all friends here." Her smile was bright and steely.

I dug frantically through my memory for anything like a dinner prayer that I had ever heard. Gaby's family always said "grace" before dinner. No, they were Catholic and Baptists hate Catholics. Plus I couldn't remember all the words to the Catholic one. A super dim memory wriggled to the front spot in my swirling thoughts.

"Oh Lord, bless the food that you have provided us and save us from the punishment of hellfire."

The long table of faces were all turned my way, wearing various expressions of blank shock.

"Amen?" I tacked on.

The room continued its silent staredown with me.

"In Jesus' name, Amen!" Fred Crompton said. "Where did you learn that, Kelsey? That's not the way we say thanks in this house!"

"I don't remember," I replied as people began to rise and fill their plates from the buffet.

"Well, after dinner, let's sit you down and teach you the proper way to say thanks!" Fred grinned at me over the flowers and candles and got up to join the buffet line.

"Don't Wiccans believe in Jesus, Kelsey?" Cindy asked as she shooed me in front of her into line.

I clutched the fancy china plate and hoped that I wouldn't drop it as we got jostled along. "Um... yes?"

"That's good. But do they really believe? In Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Savior? You know the Muslims claim to believe in Jesus, but they say he was just a prophet. There are a lot of false paths out there, you know."

"Yes, ma'am."

I took a careful spoon of what looked like sweet potatoes done up into some kind of mousse.

"And you have your eternal soul to think about. I know a little about Wicca, Kelsey, and I can't think of it as a healthy path for a young girl like you."

"No, ma'am."

Cindy added some white potato fluff to my orange potato fluff. "Jesus loves you, Kelsey."

"Yes, ma'am."

The turkey was delicious.

*&*

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