One particular Thanksgiving, the weather was so beautiful that Mom decided to have dinner on our front lawn. Dad built a long table, and Mom and I rounded up every chair in the house. I did the place settings and made the centerpiece — my favorite job of the year.
My aunt arrived with Uncle Gordon. I watched him walk from the street up the lawn, tall with his blond hair shining in the sun. Another car had pulled up behind them, and Uncle Gordon waited for a slim man to join him. As they walked, he and Gordon chatted. Mom came out of the house and greeted my aunt. Then, with a surprised look, she said hello to Gordon and his friend.
"Who's this?"
Gordon smiled and told us the man's name. "A Canuck(法裔加拿大人) from Toronto, like me."
"Oh," Mom said uncertainly. "Well, welcome. Leslie, get another place setting and a chair." She turned to the stranger. "Please have a seat. We're going to eat in about half an hour. "I thought the man looked a little funny, but he smiled. "Why, thanks. Thanks a lot." I did as Mom asked and set a place at the table for the stranger. I put him next to Uncle Gordon so the two friends could recall home. And they did a lot of talking.
After dinner, the man approached my mother with a smile. "Thank you for including me in your Thanksgiving dinner, Joyce. It wasn't something I was expecting." Mom frowned, a little confused. "Of course," she said. "We're glad you could be here. Do you have Thanksgiving in Canada?"
"Ours is in October. We have turkey, though, just like you." He smiled. "But this is one of the best Thanksgivings I've had. I guess Americans and Canadians aren't that different, eh?" Then again, he said, "But I never expected this."
"Gordon's friend seems nice," Mom said to my aunt when we were alone in the kitchen.
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"Gordon's friend?" my aunt said. "He's not Gordon's friend. We don't know him."
……
"I was, actually, lost in the neighborhood," replied the stranger.
