Needle and Thread

by Ann M. Martin

  Flora said nothing.

  “Flora?” asked Mary.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking. This is so interesting. Do you realize that because of something my great-grandfather did almost eighty years ago, your life changed completely? If he hadn’t fired your mother and lost your savings, well, for one thing, you might have grown up with your father, because he might not have been working at the factory.”

  When Mary didn’t say anything, Flora continued. “Just think of all the people whose lives he must have changed — the other people he fired, the other people whose money he lost. What happened to them? I bet they have stories to tell, too. If I could find some of those people, maybe I could write about them for the three hundred and fiftieth birthday celebration. It would be a great project. Do you think you could help me with it?” asked Flora.

  “What would you like me to do?”

  “Well, you’ve already done a lot, telling me your story. But if you could think of anyone else I could talk to, that would be helpful.”

  “Descendants of the other people who knew your great-grandfather, that sort of thing?”

  “Yes,” said Flora. “If you want to. Only if you want to.”

  “Thank you,” replied Mary. “I’ll be happy to help you. Digging through the past can be very exciting. Just keep one thing in mind.”

  “Okay,” said Flora.

  “Digging through the past can be painful, too,” said Mary.

  “Min?” said Flora one evening. “Do you have a cable needle?” She held up a skein of off-white yarn and a pattern book. “I want to knit Nikki a pair of mittens for Christmas.”

  Min looked at the book. “Ah. Aran knits, with all the cables and designs. Flora, you are a much more accomplished knitter than I was at your age. My land. Yes, I think I have a cable needle somewhere.” She fished through her knitting bag. “Here it is.”

  “Thank you,” said Flora. “I might need just a little help with this pattern, but I think I can mostly make the mittens by myself.”

  It was a chilly evening, and Min had made a fire. She and Flora and Ruby and Daisy Dear and King Comma had gathered in front of it. Min’s hands were busy smocking the sleeves of a baby dress. (“My friends keep on having grandchildren,” she commented.) Ruby was lying on her back, one hand resting on Daisy Dear, whispering her lines from the school play.

  Min looked over her reading glasses at Flora, who had begun to cast on the stitches for the first mitten. “Hard to believe it’s already time to think about Christmas,” she said. When neither girl answered her, she added, “You know, Thanksgiving is just two weeks away now…. Girls?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” said Ruby.

  “I’m afraid we must talk about it,” replied Min. “We can’t ignore it. You’re going to have two days off from school, and the store will be closed on Thursday. We can’t just sit here and pretend it isn’t Thanksgiving.”

  “I could,” said Ruby, rolling over and staring into the fire.

  “No, that’s silly,” said Flora. “Min’s right. We can’t ignore Thanksgiving.”

  “But what are we going to do?” asked Ruby. “Min, you said yourself that you’ve forgotten how to cook a turkey.”

  “Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration.”

  “But it would be so sad, just the three of us, here instead of at home — I mean, instead of at our old home, without Mom and Dad….” Flora set her knitting down and pulled King Comma into her lap.

  “I agree,” said Min. “And that’s why I was thinking that maybe we could do something different, something that wouldn’t remind us so much of what we were missing. We could have dinner in a restaurant. The Fig Tree has a very fancy Thanksgiving dinner menu. Or maybe we could go away for a few days, after Ruby’s performance. I could line up some extra help at the store.”

  “Where would we go?” asked Flora.

  “Could we go to Disney World?” asked Ruby with sudden interest.

  “I think it’s a bit late to plan that,” said Min, “but maybe we could find a nice bed-and-breakfast in Vermont or New Hampshire.”

  “Okay, but no educational vacations,” said Ruby. “I don’t want to be dragging through museums, learning about Pilgrims and maize.”

  “I promise it would be a fun trip, and we would have Thanksgiving dinner at an inn, and it would be cozy and lovely, but it wouldn’t remind us of other years. How does that sound?” asked Min.

  “Fine,” said Flora.

  “Fine,” said Ruby.

  “Okay. I’ll make some telephone calls tomorrow and see what I can come up with.”

  “Could you call Disney World while you’re at it?” asked Ruby.

  The next evening, soon after dinner had ended, the doorbell rang.

  Daisy erupted into loud and frantic barking, which caused King Comma to fly out of the kitchen and skid around a corner, sending a throw rug under a table.

  “My stars and garters,” said Min as she dried her hands on a dish towel. She followed Daisy to the door and held on to the dog’s collar as she peeked through the window. “Bill!” she exclaimed. She opened the door and let Mr. Willet in. “How nice to see you.”

  “Sorry to drop by unannounced,” he said, “but Barbara Fong came over to stay with Mary Lou for a bit, so I thought I’d take advantage of her visit to get out of the house. I hope I’m not interrupting dinner.”

  “No, we’ve just finished,” said Min. “Make yourself at home.”

  Mr. Willet sat down in the living room, and Daisy, who now recognized him as a friend, jumped onto the couch, turned around twice, and lay beside him, pressing her back against his legs.

  “Isn’t this nice?” said Mr. Willet. “Hello, girls,” he added as Flora and Ruby joined them.

  Min made tea, Flora and Ruby lay reading by the fire, and the grown-ups began to talk. Flora paid little attention until she heard the words “nursing home.” Then she laid her book down and sat up to listen.

  “I just can’t care for her at home anymore,” Mr. Willet was telling Min. “Mary Lou needs too much help. She needs help dressing and bathing, and I’m not strong enough to lift her anymore.”

  “What about hiring a nurse?” suggested Min.

  “I’ve thought about that, but I don’t know. We’d need round-the-clock help. I think Mary Lou will be safer in a nursing home. Right now, she’s up half the night wandering around. I’m afraid she’s going to leave the house or turn on the stove. It’s getting dangerous.”

  Min rested her hand on Mr. Willet’s arm. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “You’ve been wonderful neighbors and dear friends. We’ll miss Mary Lou very much. I can’t imagine how sad this must be for you.”

  Mr. Willet nodded, his eyes bright. “Luckily, there are several nursing homes not far away, plus a fine continuing-care retirement community with a wing for people with Alzheimer’s. That’s where I’d like Mary Lou to go, but there won’t be space available until after the holidays. We’ll just have to muddle through until then.”

  “Bill,” said Min, “what are you and Mary Lou going to do for Thanksgiving?”

  “Oh.” Mr. Willet put his hand to his forehead. “I’d almost forgotten about Thanksgiving. We don’t have any plans. I’ve been so preoccupied.”

  “Well,” said Min, and she looked at Flora and Ruby, “we don’t have any plans, either. We were thinking of going away for a few days, but —”

  “But could you have Thanksgiving with us?” asked Ruby.

  “Please?” said Flora.

  “Why, we’d love to,” replied Mr. Willet. “That would be wonderful. What a lovely offer. Thank you so much.”

  “Well, now,” said Min later as she closed the door behind Mr. Willet, “isn’t that nice? We’ll stay home after all. Five for Thanksgiving. That seems more festive.”

  Late the next afternoon, as Ruby and Flora and Min were walking home from Needle and Thread, Min said, “You’ll never guess what. I was talking to Olivia’s mother today a
nd she mentioned that the Walters were going to spend Thanksgiving in New York City, but now they’ve decided to stay here in order to save money. So I invited them to join us for dinner.”

  “Really?” cried Flora. “Olivia’s family is coming, too?”

  “Then that’s ten people!” said Ruby. “Excellent.”

  “We never had ten people for Thanksgiving,” said Flora. “This is going to be fun. How are we going to fit everyone in the dining room, though?”

  “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll think of something. That’s part of the fun,” replied Min.

  “Min? What does Mr. Pennington do on Thanksgiving?” asked Ruby.

  “Goodness me, I don’t know. I’d better ask him.”

  “Hey! I just had a brilliant idea!” exclaimed Flora. “We could have a Row House Thanksgiving. You said you have Row House parties sometimes, and we had the barbecue last summer, remember? That was great. What if we invited everyone else in the Row Houses?”

  “Well …” Min paused. “Now, that would be a lot of people.”

  “Everyone could bring something,” Flora went on, “so you wouldn’t have to do all the cooking, Min.”

  “It would be very festive and Thanksgiving-y,” said Ruby.

  “We’d help you,” said Flora. “We’d do whatever you asked.”

  So that night, Min phoned Mr. Pennington, the Morrises, the Edwardses, the Malones, and the Fongs. The Morrises and the Malones planned to be away for the holiday, but everyone else was excited about Thanksgiving at Min’s house.

  “Now it’s sixteen people!” said Ruby.

  “Lordy me,” said Min.

  “Um, Min? Could we ask Nikki’s family, too?” Flora looked pleadingly at her grandmother.

  “You’re going to phone Nikki’s house?” said Ruby incredulously.

  “Only if Min says it’s okay.”

  “It’s fine,” said Min. “That’s a very nice idea, Flora.”

  “But, Flora, what if Nikki’s father answers the phone?” said Ruby.

  “Do you want me to invite the Shermans?” asked Min.

  “No. I’ll do it,” replied Flora, but she could already feel her heart starting to pound. “I’ll do it right now before I lose my nerve.”

  Flora took the phone into her bedroom and shut the door. Fingers trembling, she punched in Nikki’s number. She held her breath.

  “Hello?” said a small voice.

  “Mae?” said Flora, and she relaxed.

  “Yes. Who’s speaking, please?”

  “It’s Flora, Nikki’s friend. Is Nikki there?”

  “Yes.” Flora heard a loud thump, as if Mae had dropped the phone. Then she heard muffled voices, and finally Nikki, sounding surprised, said, “Flora?”

  “Yup. It’s me. Nikki, I wanted to ask you something. Min and Ruby and I decided to have all these people over for Thanksgiving. At first we weren’t going to do anything at all, but then we decided to invite our friends for dinner. Olivia and her family will be here, and we wanted to know if you and your family could come, too. Do you have any plans?”

  Nikki let a sigh escape. At last she said, “I’m pretty sure we don’t have any plans. I have no idea what we’re going to do. But this isn’t, um, this isn’t … I’m sort of in trouble with my father. I’d better not ask him about anything right now.”

  “Can’t you ask your mother?”

  “Yes, but then she’d just have to ask my father, and I’m sorry, Flora — I know this is hard to understand — it’s hard to explain, too. But if either Mom or I ask my father if we can go to your house for Thanksgiving, he’s going to say no because he’s mad at me.”

  “But the invitation is for your whole family, not just you.”

  “I know. I said this was hard to explain.”

  “Why is your father mad at you?” asked Flora finally.

  “Because I disobeyed him. Look, Flora, I can’t really talk right now.” Nikki lowered her voice to a whisper. “I have to go,” she said quickly, and hung up the phone.

  Flora was disappointed until she thought of the sixteen people who would gather at her house for Thanksgiving, and then her spirits rose again. In the store the next day, she invited Mary Woolsey to dinner, too, but Mary said shyly that no, no, she couldn’t accept, but thank you very much, Flora, thank you.

  Still and all. Sixteen for Thanksgiving dinner. Flora and Ruby and Min got busy with their plans.

  Thanksgiving, thought Olivia, used to be … what was the word? Simple? No, that wasn’t quite right. But it was sort of right. Up until this year, whenever Thanksgiving rolled around, Olivia and her family made plans for the holiday, gave thanks, and ate their meal. There was usually plenty to give thanks for, and Olivia looked forward to the holiday, celebrated it, then went back to school and continued with her autumn.

  But this year was different. This year, the Walters had planned to go to New York City for Thanksgiving. They had started talking about the trip nearly a year earlier. They were going to stay in a hotel, watch the Macy’s parade from the windows of their hotel rooms, eat dinner in a restaurant, and go to a show on Broadway. Olivia had been looking forward to this for months and months. Then her father lost his job. At first, the Walters thought they could go ahead with the trip. Surely one of Olivia’s parents would find work soon. But this hadn’t happened, and finally a family meeting had been called at which it was announced that the trip was off. Disappointment.

  Then Min had invited the Walters to what had turned into a big Row House Thanksgiving celebration. Olivia was excited again.

  Her excitement faded, however, when she thought about Mrs. Mandel. On the last day of school before Thanksgiving vacation, Olivia and her classmates were going to hold their party to say good-bye to their favorite teacher ever. The party would be fun, and Mr. Donaldson, who had visited Olivia’s class several times now, seemed nice, so Olivia was looking forward to welcoming him. But how could she say good-bye to Mrs. Mandel?

  Thanksgiving this year reminded Olivia of a picture book she had liked when she was little. It was called Fortunately, Unfortunately. And that was her Thanksgiving, all right. Fortunately, she and her family had had a big trip planned. Unfortunately, they had to cancel the trip. Fortunately, Min invited them to dinner. Unfortunately, Olivia’s favorite teacher was retiring the day before. Fortunately, her good-bye party would be fun. And on and on. Olivia hoped this wasn’t part of growing up. She didn’t like complications.

  On the day of the party, Olivia, Ruby, and Flora met Nikki’s bus as usual. The girls walked Mae to her classroom and Ruby to hers, then slowly approached Mrs. Mandel’s room.

  “I guess this is it,” said Flora.

  “I can’t believe we have to say good-bye to Mrs. Mandel,” said Olivia. “I waited six years for her to be my teacher.”

  “Remember how happy we were on the day we found out we were going to be in her class together?” said Nikki.

  Olivia peeped into the classroom. Then she ducked back. “Mrs. Mandel and Mr. Donaldson are both in there already,” she said in a loud whisper.

  The girls flattened themselves against the wall.

  “Do you think the party is going to be a complete surprise?” asked Flora.

  “I hope so,” said Nikki.

  “It better be,” said Olivia. Olivia’s classmates and their parents had worked hard planning the party — and keeping it a secret. “Now I know what you must have gone through to plan my big one-oh,” said Olivia. She thought about what was supposed to happen that afternoon, and she shivered.

  “Well … I guess we should go inside,” said Nikki.

  “Wait!” cried Olivia softly. “Where are your gifts? Did you guys remember your gifts?”

  “Min’s bringing mine this afternoon,” said Flora. “I was afraid Mrs. Mandel and Mr. Donaldson would see them before the party if I brought them.”

  Nikki patted her new backpack, a recent gift from Mrs. DuVane. “Mine are in here. My parents aren’t coming today.”


  “Oh, not even your mother?” asked Olivia.

  “Nope.”

  “But why isn’t your mother coming?”

  “My father won’t let her. Not for this. He’s still punishing me.”

  Olivia felt like saying “I hate him” but kept her mouth closed. Instead, she put her arm around her friend and said, “You can borrow my mom and dad.”

  “And Min and Mr. Pennington,” said Flora. Then she added, “Mr. Pennington is really excited about the party. Did you know he used to teach here years and years and years ago, before he was principal at the high school?”

  “Really?” said Nikki. “Well, thanks, you guys. Maybe if we all just hang around together, no one will even notice that my parents didn’t come.”

  Olivia put her hand on the doorknob. “Okay,” she said, “let’s go.”

  The girls entered their room. Mrs. Mandel and Mr. Donaldson were standing together in front of the blackboard.

  “Good morning,” said Mrs. Mandel, and Olivia suddenly had the horrible feeling that she was going to burst into tears right there in front of her class. She pressed her lips together, though, and the feeling passed.

  The day passed, too, and it didn’t drag the way days with parties or surprises at the end usually do. Olivia was slightly disappointed. She had hoped for one long, last delicious day with Mrs. Mandel. But before she knew it, the bell had rung for lunchtime, and soon enough, both lunch and recess were over and she and her classmates were back in their seats.

  The surprise was about to begin. Olivia found herself holding her breath. She and Nikki and Flora kept exchanging looks, then glancing at the door to their classroom. If all went as planned, Mr. Giordano, who worked in the school office, should appear at any moment.

  And suddenly, there he was. He rapped twice on the door, then let himself inside. “Excuse me,” he said quietly, taking Mrs. Mandel and Mr. Donaldson aside. (Olivia clapped her hand over her mouth. She didn’t want to do anything to ruin the surprise now.) “Could you go to the office for a few moments? Mrs. Covey needs to see you.”