The Borrowed Family

Atticus looked up, swished his tail in disgust, spun around and settled back down in the middle of the sunbeam.

Twenty pounds, striped and slightly cranky, Atticus was the only family Joseph Jordan had.  And while the cat wasn’t much when it came to conversation, he was a good listener.

“Happy Thanksgiving, you lazy fat cat.”

Atticus swished his tail again.  Someone would find pee in his shoe in the morning.

Joseph Jordan lived in a one-bedroom efficiency apartment in the wrong part of town. He didn’t care, though.  The rent was cheap and for the most part, no one bothered him.

He flipped through the cable channels and watched a few moments of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.  He remembered watching the parade on his grandparent’s old cabinet television.  He’d lie there, on the floor and watch all the colorful floats and balloons pass thorugh the cold New York streets. Those were more innocent times.  Now if he tried to get down on the floor, it would take EMTs and a crane to get him back up.

His grandparents were now gone.  And so were his parents. His wife left him years ago.  And his kids lived out in Seattle near her.  So it was just him and Atticus.  “You’re a good cat, Atticus.”  Atticus, his best friend, rolled over in approval.

He had a hot date with Marie Callender.  Sure, she was kind of cold at first, but she warmed up quickly.  He liked that joke — and his frozen dinner that was awaiting him.  Dust floated around in the sunbeam like dancing fairies as Atticus began to snore. A fat cat will do that.

Thanksgiving was a challenge for Joseph.  He had so much to be thankful for — but an equally long list of disappointments.

Being alone on Thanksgiving was number one on his list.

He had seen too much death in Vietnam to take his own life, but he understood why people committed suicide. The pain of loneliness taunted him nightly.  Atticus acted as his guardian angel, driving the demons away.

Joseph had retired from the Post Office in August.  Now his life involved going to the grocery, the bank and a handful of other chores.  But he always loved going to the grocery. There he liked to talk to the cashier in lane number six.  Her name was Emily Rose and could be a clone of his daughter Becky.  “Hi there Mr. Joseph!” His heart raced when he thought of her voice.

Emily Rose was young, married and struggled to make ends meet.  Studying architecture at night, she had her dreams.  Her husband Bobby worked on an oil rig. He noticed that she looked older than her years. She had lines on her forehead that came from long nights of studying and worrying. Where would the money come from? Would Bobby be OK on the rig? She was still paying the hospital for emergency surgery in April. Emily Rose was also a cancer survivor.

“Atticus, what will it be?  Fish sticks or beef tips?”  The cat, of course, wanted fish. “Beef tips it is.”

Atticus was not happy with his two-legged friend.

Joseph hobbled over to the freezer, pulled the dinner out and put in the microwave.  Four minutes on high, stir and then two more minutes. Let it cool for two minutes.  And then Thanksgiving dinner would be ready.

Knock knock knock.

Someone stood at the door.

Joseph grabbed his pistol and walked over to the peephole.

Knock knock knock.  “Mr. Joseph?”

Joseph’s heart skipped a beat.

He unchained the doors and threw it open. There stood Emily Rose and her husband. Both were dressed warmly to fight the evening’s chill.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Joseph!  Emily Rose and I want you to come have Thanksgiving dinner with us.” Bobby smiled as he put his arm around the old man. “And Atticus is invited, too.”

Within moments, the old man, the fat cat and the young couple were headed across town to a small house in a small neighborhood.  Cars lined the streets in front of it.

The front door swung open, revealed a wild scene.  Smells of turkey and dressing wafted through the room. Small children played chase around the table. An elderly lady in an apron smiled and scolded them half heartedly as she held a pumpkin pie.  Four men cheered as the Redskins quarterback threw yet another touchdown.  A fire blazed in the living room, glowing almost as brightly as the love that radiated from people in the room.

“Meet your new family, Mr. Joseph. Happy Thanksgiving!”

The family sat at a huge table, prayed and began to eat.

As he listened to all the family’s stories, Joseph decided the first on his list of things to be thankful for was the borrowed family.  He took a bite of turkey and dropped a piece onto the floor.

Atticus swished his tail in complete approval.