"Can't. Feel. My. Feet," I mumbled as I laid out in one of the booths, Reta's now empty and closed for the night. Thanksgiving was officially over at Reta's, and as hours in the day went it was almost the end of Thanksgiving in Jersey period. If I ever hear anyone bitch about working in retail on Thanksgiving, or during the holidays period, I will tell them to try working in a diner on that holiday and see how they like it. I couldn't believe the people in here today! And so many new faces with people passing in to see family or on their way through to see family! I'm pretty sure I was in need of new gel inserts if not new shoes after today! But it was nice to be so busy, busy kept me from thinking about how I wasn't spending the holiday with my family or any of my old friends. Or my new friends for that matter.

"If it's any consolation to you I don't think I have any fingerprints left," Sam replied from the other side of the booth table I was lying in.

"Let's trade, you can have my fingerprints if I can have your feet," I answered, not bothering to sit up.

"Uh, I don't think you want my feet hun," Sam chuckled as he got up out of the booth we had both been sharing in exhaustion. I took his offered hand when I saw it appear in front of my face, I needed the extra help hoisting myself to a standing position.

"I'll take your word on that then," I replied as I headed towards the back where Reta and Ernie were putting away the whiskey and our now cleaned shot glasses after our celebratory "we made it through another holiday" shot after we had first closed.

"I'm off to bed Reta! Ernie! " I called into the kitchen as I dumped my receipt pad where Reta and I kept them, dumping my work pen into the cup of similar pens as well.

"Night Jay!" I heard Ernie call out from the kitchen and waved in response even though he couldn't see it. Though knowing Ernie he probably did see it. There wasn't much that went on that Ernie didn't see or know about, he and his wife shared that in common.

"Oh Jay Bird before you go," I heard Reta call out behind me. Stopping in my tired tracks I turned to face her for whatever it was that she wanted.

"I wanted to say thank you for working today, you really did a magnificent job. Most people can't make it through a shift let alone a full day during the holiday," Reta beamed with pride as she looked down on me. I couldn't help but smile back, regardless of how tired I was, her smile was contagious.

"And while I know that you're exhausted and as much as I would love to give you tomorrow off I can't as it's Black Friday. Retail thinks they have it so hard but we get it just as bad because all those shoppers have to eat! But I can say that I don't need you until at least 8 since a niece of Ernie's will help us with the 3 am Black Friday open. And if you can make it through this weekend I'll see what I can do about giving you a few extra days off next week does that sound okay to you?" Reta asked, a look of concern in her eyes as she scanned over my bedraggled looking form.

"I think I could walk through fire for a few extra days off," I replied as jovial as I could! I was sincerely happy about the promise of a few extra days off come next week. And the added bonus of not having to be back down here to open the diner at 3 am for all those stupid ridiculous Black Friday shoppers made my long day just a bit better.

"Then it's settled then, I'll see you at 8 tomorrow. Now you go and get yourself upstairs and tuck in before you perish away right before my eyes," Reta tsked tsked as she shooed me out the back door to the stairway to my upstairs apartment.

I giggled tiredly as she literally pushed me over the doorway and shut the door behind me, locking it in one swift motion. Guess they either really wanted to get home for a few hours of shut eye or I really did look like death. Sighing I limply took a cigarette out of my apron and put it to my lips to light as I trudged up my stairs, one huge mile long step at a time.

At the top of my stairs I took out my keys and let myself into my apartment, groaning because I knew the state I had left it in. As I stepped in I flicked the light switch above the stand next to the door and dropped my keys to the floor, completely missing the basket on the table they go in.

"What the fuck?" I asked as looked around the large living room area of my apartment. It was spotless, there was almost a shine to everything. I scanned the room slowly and took in the folded blanket across the back of my couch, the empty trash cans, the tidied piles of magazines and mail. I looked down and saw that the floor was swept and the rug had been vacuumed, something that hadn't been done in two weeks! Slowly I bent to pick up my keys and then shut and locked my front door as I stood. Once I had deposited my keys I walked into the room in a daze. Everything looked polished and new, even my television was missing it's layer of familiar dust that I had grown accustomed to seeing. Not believing what I was seeing I slowly made my way into the kitchen.

The same had been done to my kitchen that had been done to my living room area. There were no dishes in the sink, not even any drying in the rack on the counter. Everything had been scrubbed down and somehow my coffeemakers clock had been resent to the correct time, it had been three or so hours off since we lost power for a minute or two a week ago and I had not bothered to change it as of yet! In awe I walked towards my fridge where I saw a sheet of paper stuck with my one of my miss matched magnets.

"Dear Jay Bird,
We know that you've been more than a little busy, Reta filled us in on the actual hours you have been clocking in the diner. I know how you told me that everything was a wreck and that you weren't going to get yourself any rest until you had done it so I figured we could work a little magic. We came over after we did the Haven run for Reta and I used my key to let us all in. And as you can now start to see, we cleaned! I have never seen Frankie recycle before, but apparently you aren't doing it correctly because he spent 20 or so minutes redoing it before he took it out. Whatever that means. I think Frankie was just being Frankie and was probably organizing your recycling by color or something. Probably should have had Bob supervise him or something. Oh well. Regardless, your place is clean! I had Sharon put away your laundry because when Mikey started to do it all I could picture was Way babies! That and I figured it was better to have a girl rummaging through your underwear drawer then one of us! Hope this means you'll get some well needed rest!
Hoping you don't fall dead on us now,

Gerard, and everyone else.

Oh and p to the s. . .
Check your oven and your fridge. I think Frankie rubbed off on all of us so we left you another surprise."

Staring stupidly at the note in my hand I felt tears come to the corner of my eyes. Blinking rapidly to try and disperse them I folded the note and put into my apron that I was still wearing. Opening up my fridge I stared at it's bare contents and saw what Gerard's note had pertained to. There was a tinfoil covered bowl with a sticky note that said "Eat Me Cold!" and beside it was a small plate with more tinfoil and a sticky note of it's own that said "Eat Me Afterwards!" stuck to it's top. Feeling the tears threaten my eyes again I pulled the "Eat Me Cold" dish out of the fridge, leaving the other for later as it's note said. Snuffling I put the bowl on the counter and pulled back the foil. I hiccuped back tears as I saw the most beautifully laid out salad in a bowl, clearly the work of Frankie since no one else I knew took such love and care with vegetables.

Still sniffling and fighting back my tears I went to my oven and opened it up as well. Inside was a large plate bearing it's own tinfoil and sticky note reading "Eat Me Hot!" and next to it was my lime green tea kettle with a note saying "Drink Me Hot!". Blinking as a tear or four escaped silently down my chin I pulled out the two dishes and placed them on the counter. Pulling back the foil I saw arranged everything anyone could wish for on a Thanksgiving night! Piles of beautiful looking turkey layered in rich brown gravy, a pile of mashed potatoes that still gave off of the perfume of garlic and horseradish with their very own layering of gravy. There was cooked candied baby carrots, a pile of squash with butter on top, green beans precariously piled on the edge of the plate and good plop of what looked to be homemade cranberry sauce. And there, placed neatly on the edge was two of Frankie's "funny moon shaped pieces of bread". Smiling and shaking my head I went and popped my plate in the microwave and then put my kettle on the stove before going to change.

Once I had hung up my uniform and apron and slid into my pajamas I heard my microwave ding that it had finished. I grabbed down a large coffee mug from my cabinet and put it next to my stove for my kettle when it went off, and if what I could smell was any indication then it's contents were mulled cider. I grabbed a fork, knife and a paper towel which I brought out to my coffee table along with my artwork salad. And as I made my way back into my kitchen I was just in time for my kettle to barely start a whistle which it meant it was perfectly hot to drink without having to scald the roof of my mouth off. Taking the kettle off I poured it's lush aromatic contents into my oversized mug and confirmed my suspicions, it was in fact mulled cider. Inhaling clove, cinnamon, orange and apples I grabbed my mug and my plate from the microwave and made my way back out to my couch to eat.

Sitting down I stared at the array of glorious food my friends had so sneakily, and so kindly, left for me after cleaning my wreck of an apartment. I looked fondly on the steaming potatoes and the flaky crescent rolls and as I picked up my salad and started to skewer one of the delicately cut and arranged mushrooms I broke into tears. I just sat there and cried into my salad that could have won a five star award at any high end restaurant. Poor dearest bat shit crazy Frankie who probably shouldn't be trusted with any sharp edged implement but who's salad would make Julia Child applaud. Lewd and gangly Mikey with a dust rag in a back pocket and a broom in hand. Bob and Ray their strong capable hands found holding vacuums and organizing my magazines, or folding my couch comforter. Sharon, quiet delicate and withdrawn Sharon at my sink up to her elbows in suds and my dirty dishes. And Gerard, Gerard conducting it all as only he could, supplying the magic to make everything work.

And to think that I was bumming that I wasn't going to be spending the holidays with my family or friends, new or old. My friends, no, my family, had been with me on this holiday. Traces of them lingered here still in my clean apartment and in the thoughtful meal steaming before me. Skewering the delicately cut mushroom, one of many fanned elegantly on top of my salad, I smiled. And as I sniffed away the brunt of my tears I chewed and thought of Frankie. And of everyone else. And as I went through each part of my very own Thanksgiving dinner I kept wondering, what exactly was it they had left me for desert in the fridge?
-xXx-
After I had finished my huge piece of pumpkin pie with whipped cream and had another cup of hot mulled cider I decided to call it a night. More so that my eyes were closing on their own accord than anything else. Taking my dishes into the kitchen I scrubbed them and placed them to dry so as not to belittle what everyone had done tonight. Once that was done I put the remainder of my mulled cider into a thermos and put it in my fridge for a later date and then finally made my way to my bedroom. Fumbling through the dark of my bedroom I turned on my small bedside lamp and made to crawl into bed. Pulling back my blankets and top sheet I snuggled in, wiggling my feet just enough to loosen the tightly tucked sheets just enough for movement. I forgot how nice a crisply made bed felt, guess I had been more exhausted recently then I had thought. Snuggled in, bra off and alarm set I reached into my drawer for another journal pen since my last one had finally died and had to be tossed. As I reached in for a black Bic pen I felt a piece of paper. Pulling my drawer open more I peered in to see what I had touched. And there sitting on top of the box that held the beautiful expensive pens I had received from Gerard for my birthday was yet another sticky note.

"When are you going to realize that your words are worth the quills that are meant to write them?"

Sighing I put the sticky note back in my drawer, back on top of the box that held the exquisite writing implements I would probably never take out of their package. Grabbing another pen as I had intended before I opened up my journal and jaunted down another entry.

"Balance, balance, everywhere there is balance. My rough and tumbles carried the fruits of promise to those who could use a little warmth and hope. Tattooed angels visited my apartment, magic happened. I cried over cut mushrooms and somewhere Julia Child smiled. Jersey is speaking to me, one heartfelt good deed at a time."

Entry done I put my journal and pen on my nightstand and turned off my light. Wiggling down I got into a comfortable position, curling up on my side I scrunched my pillow down under my head and in my hands. Sighing I stared out into the dark as my eyelids gained pound after pound, wanting to close.

"When will you realize Gerard that my words aren't worth nearly half what yours are. . ."

Notes

I hope you all enjoyed my Thanksgiving chapter.
I know it's a bit out of date now, but when it was originally written and put up on another site it indeed did arrive around Thanksgiving.