Thanksgiving came in on a north wind with eight inches of snow behind it, and Nora came to the Haapalas' at two in the afternoon with a pumpkin pie and a can of whipped cream and her cheeks red from walking the six blocks, because she didn't trust the Volaré on Maple Street hill in the snow yet and wasn't ashamed to say so.
It was the best Thanksgiving Dale had had in three years, and maybe longer, and he would think later that he should have known better than to let himself enjoy it that much. He roasted a turkey that came out only a little dry. Arvo came, in a necktie, with a bottle of Mogen David he said was for the pastor and drank most of himself. Birdie said grace, and it included the turkey by name, and the snowplow driver, and Madonna. Afterward Arvo fell asleep in Dale's recliner with his mouth open and the Lions beating the Jets on the television for once, and Nora and Birdie lay on the living room rug and played Uno, and Nora lost three times running and swore Birdie was cheating, and Birdie laughed so hard she got the hiccups.
Around eight, Birdie fell asleep on the rug with an Uno card stuck to her cheek. Dale carried her up to bed. When he came down, Nora had her coat on.
"I'll drive you," he said.
"It's six blocks."
"It's eight inches of snow and it's dark. I'll drive you." He got his keys. "I have to stop at the shop anyhow. I've got Eino Rautio's Oldsmobile in the bay waiting on snow tires and I told him he could pick it up tomorrow."
So they drove to the shop first, the streets white and empty and every house lit up yellow with people inside it eating pie, and he unlocked the side door and turned on the single bulb over the bench, and they stood there in the cold garage that smelled of oil and rubber and the cardamom from the last of her pulla in a box on the shelf. He checked the lugs on the Oldsmobile, which didn't need it.
"Dale," she said behind him.
He turned around.
"It's yet," said Nora Brennan.
He didn't know which of them moved. It didn't matter. She was nearly as tall as he was, and she kissed like she did everything, paying attention, and her hands came up on either side of his face and they were cold and smelled faintly of Lava soap from the slop sink, and he thought, very clearly, the way you think one clear thing in the middle of a car wreck, I had forgotten. I had completely forgotten that this was in the world.
They stood like that under the one bulb for a while.
Neither of them heard the car pull up outside. Neither of them saw the headlights swing across the frosted windows of the bay door. It wasn't until a long time later that Dale learned that Eino Rautio, unable to sleep after turkey, had decided to come down and see if Haapala had gotten to his snow tires after all, so he could pick the car up first thing, and had stood for a minute at the side window of the garage with his collar turned up against the wind, looking in.