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Dakota breathed into his hands, hoping to regain some feeling in his fingers. “When did the landlord say the heat would be fixed?”
“He said it gets fixed when it gets fixed,” Cavendish said, struggling to turn the pages of his book with mittens on his hands. “If you let me talk to the man and inform him that his approach to repairs is rather illegal—”
“Cavendish, we’re still struggling to pay the rent on time even with our new jobs at P.I.G. We are not going to jeopardize our only living space,” Dakota grumbled, picking up his Gameboy. “It’s a lot colder living in the van we were given.”
“I suppose,” Cavendish sighed. He perked up when he heard his phone ringing. Cavendish stood to answer his mobile phone, but choked a bit and fell back onto the couch. “Dakota?”
“Right, right.” Dakota stood up at the same time as Cavendish, and the two of them shuffled over to Cavendish’s desk. Dakota’s scarf had been destroyed during their last job, and he would not accept Cavendish’s scarf for the sake of staying warm in their chilly office/living space. The compromise was for both of them to wear the rather long scarf, even though that limited their movements.
Cavendish answered his phone. “Balthazar T. Cavendish speaking.”
“Hi, Cavendish!” A familiar, cheery voice said on the other end of the line.
Cavendish had to smile at the sound. “Milo! Good to hear from you, my boy! Dakota, say hello.”
“What up, kid?” Dakota called, pausing his game. Cavendish put the phone on speaker.
“I was just wondering what you guys had planned for Thanksgiving,” Milo said. “If you celebrate Thanksgiving, that is.”
“Growing up, I never did, being British and all,” Cavendish said.
“I always did! It’s all about food!” Dakota cheered. “This year, I don’t know what we’re going to do. Our boss gave everyone the week off so people could go home for the holiday, so we’re stuck in our icebox of an office.”
“Icebox?” Milo asked.
“The heat is acting up, that’s all,” Cavendish assured, giving Dakota a pointed look to warn him not to say anything.
“Well, how would you guys like to join my family for Thanksgiving this year?” Milo offered. “I told my folks how you were banned from time travel, and I wasn’t sure if you would be able to be with your families at this time.”
“That’d be awesome!” Dakota cheered.
Cavendish elbowed him. “Of course, we would not want to intrude on what is traditionally a family gathering.”
“You guys are like family!” Milo insisted. “Especially if the heat is acting up, you ought to come over!”
“Very well, Milo, you have convinced us,” Cavendish said. “We’ll be sure to bring something to contribute to the meal. Any allergies in your family? Food intolerance? Dietary needs?”
“Nope! All good!” Milo suddenly yelped.
“Milo, what are we hearing?” Dakota asked, referring to the strange metallic banging in the background of the call. “Where are you right now?”
“I’m rolling down the road on a metal trash can!” Milo informed them. “Well, actually, the trash can is rolling and bouncing, and I’m on top of it. Kind of feels like I’m in the circus! I think I’m coming down the street where you two live. Whoa!”
Cavendish and Dakota jumped when they heard a great crash outside their door. They pulled the scarf off their necks and hurried to the front door, yanking it open and finding what looked like a trash can with legs sitting outside. The can lifted up, spilling trash all over the poor Murphy boy sitting before the former time travelers.
“Hi guys!” Milo said, hanging up his phone.
“Gracious, are you all right?” Cavendish asked, helping Milo stand and brush the trash off him.
“Not my first time going down a street on a trash can and then ending up inside it,” Milo said.
“Of course it isn’t,” Dakota chuckled, going to get a broom and dustpan. Cavendish ushered Milo inside to clean up at the sink in their kitchenette area while Dakota took care of the trash and can outside.
“I would offer you the shower, as small as it is, but the water would be freezing,” Cavendish said.
“I’m okay, really!” Milo said. “Let me just text my mom and let her know I’ll be late.” He shivered a little while he texted. “Yeesh. This place feels like an ice cave on Hoth.”
“You can say that again,” Dakota scoffed. “The heat is out. Haven’t gotten it fixed yet.”
“Oh, maybe I can help!” Milo said. He looked at his phone. “Mom is actually coming to pick me up on her way home from errands, but maybe I can take a look at the heater before she gets here.”
“No need to worry about that, my boy,” Cavendish said, tousling Milo’s hair. “Besides, that is the landlord’s responsibility.”
“When he gets around to it,” Dakota scoffed under his breath.
Bridgette arrived several minutes later, giving the three friends time for a good visit and for Milo to realize just how cold it was in that office space where Cavendish and Dakota lived. Milo waved to his mother, and she jogged upstairs to the office space.
“Thank you both for helping Milo. I really appreciate it.” Bridgette shivered. “Good heavens, I think it’s colder in here than it is outside! Do you enjoy the cold or something?”
“Their heat has been out for two days,” Milo informed his mother, despite Cavendish and Dakota trying to shush him.
“Two days?!” Bridgette gawked. “Why has your landlord not fixed it?” Cavendish and Dakota shrugged sheepishly. Bridgette frowned. “Well, you should not be staying in a house without heat. You’ll make yourself terribly ill.”
“It’s not that bad,” Dakota shrugged.
“How many blankets do you have? And don’t tell me you’re sleeping on that couch where the air can circulate around you and make you colder,” Bridgette demanded.
“Uh …” Cavendish and Dakota didn’t know how to admit that they did share a pull-out sofa bed and the two semi-thin blankets they owned.
Bridgette scoffed. “I should go have a talk with that landlord. This is entirely unacceptable.”
“You really do not need to go to the trouble,” Cavendish said.
“He might not know exactly that we live here, you know?” Dakota said, hoping to leave a good enough hint for Bridgette to pick up.
“Then both of you pack a bag and get in the car. You’ll stay at our house until the heat is fixed,” Bridgette ordered.
“Mrs. Murphy—” Cavendish tried to refuse politely.
“Right now, the both of you!” Bridgette snapped in her sternest motherly voice. It was that voice that any child would know. The voice that a mother used when she gave you an order and expected you to follow it, leaving no room for discussion. Dakota and Cavendish each squeaked out a “Yes, Mrs. Murphy!” and hurried to pack an overnight bag.
“Thanks, Mom,” Milo whispered.
“Happy to help,” Bridgette said with a grin.
Cavendish and Dakota had to admit that the Murphy house was toasty compared to their office. Dakota insisted Cavendish take the guest room while he slept on the couch. It was nice to not have to bundle up indoors and just wear their normal clothes. Milo gave them the rundown on emergency procedures for the house and where to find the medical supplies and fire extinguishers. By the time he finished, Bridgette called everyone to dinner.
“Thank you again for letting us stay here,” Cavendish said during the meal.
“Letting us? More like forcing us. And I’m glad for it!” Dakota corrected.
“Tomorrow, you should give your landlord a call and ask for a specific timeframe of when that heater will be fixed,” Martin suggested.
“In the meantime, you can help us pre-prepare for Thanksgiving dinner!” Milo offered.
“What’s pre-preparing?” Cavendish asked, already guessing it had something to do with anticipating Murphy’s Law.
“Mom has a couple dishes she likes to make ahead of time so that Thanksgiving day can be spent focusing on the turkey and other things that don’t reheat well,” Sara said. “We also reinforce the kitchen for a lot of cooking, including pulling out all the extra pots and pans.”
“I’m going to the grocery store in the morning to get ingredients, and I’ll set up a grocery delivery order for Thanksgiving day for when things get burnt or something,” Bridgette added.
“What if Dakota and I go to the market?” Cavendish offered.
“Yeah, we want to help as much as we can since you’re letting us crash here,” Dakota agreed.
“I’ll go with them!” Milo piped up.
“Well, that would free up some time for dinner preparations,” Bridgette said. “As long as that isn’t a bother for you.”
“Not at all! It’s the least we can do,” Cavendish assured.
The next morning, Milo went with Cavendish and Dakota to the store. While Dakota and Milo got a head start into the market, Cavendish made a call to the landlord.
“I understand that it’s almost a holiday, sir,” Cavendish said to his irate landlord. “But this is day three that the heat has been out. I presume that the technicians you called are busy, but it would be nice to know what day to expect to have the heat back.”
“I should have you call and pay for this yourself!” Mr. Phillipps snapped. “I can’t be bothered to help with your mild inconveniences! I’m on vacation with my family in the next town over! I’ll call for someone to fix the heat when I get back into Danville. And you better get me that rent on time this month!”
“Mr. Phillipps, are you telling me you have not even called anyone yet?” Cavendish asked.
“I’ve been busy!”
“Sir, I don’t see how you can be so flippant—”
“My business is my business! If you don’t like it, you can move out!”
The landlord hung up, and Cavendish sighed tiredly. He rejoined Dakota and Milo, stopping them from trying to fit in the cart that had a racecar design meant for young children. Cavendish quietly relayed the conversation with the landlord while Milo went up and down the first aisle they stopped at, picking out everything on his mother’s list. Dakota agreed that the landlord was in the wrong here, but he also agreed with Cavendish that they didn’t exactly have a choice. They hadn’t been paid yet, so they had no idea what kind of money this job at P.I.G. would bring. Their savings would not keep them afloat for long, especially if they moved into a legitimate apartment. They were stuck.
But they tried to focus more on preparations for dinner. Milo got doubles of everything, including two turkeys. He asked Cavendish and Dakota their favorite foods, and then made his best guess when the men insisted Milo didn’t need to worry about them. Cavendish used his own money to get a few different pre-made pies from the bakery to have for dessert. Dakota had his wallet with him, for once, and used the cash he had on hand to buy some frozen pizzas.
“You cannot have pizza for Thanksgiving!” Cavendish complained as they returned to the car. “I don’t know much about the holiday, but I am fairly certain this is a classy affair.”
“This pizza is totally classy! It has four different cheeses on it!” Dakota protested.
Cavendish rolled his eyes while Milo laughed. They headed for home, stopping only for things caused by Murphy’s Law: two flat tires, a goat headbutting the car and breaking a headlight, and a passenger door being torn off by a loose grappling hook hanging off the back of a truck.
“I thought things at the grocery store seemed quiet,” Dakota mused as they replaced a third popped tire in the driveway of the house.
Inside, it was a flurry of activity. Martin reinforced the dining room table so it would be less likely to break in the middle of dinner. Sara worked on the mashed potatoes while Bridgette put out a fire in the oven. Cavendish and Dakota had known Milo long enough to not be bothered by the chaos. In fact, they jumped right into the action to help the family. By the end of the day, half the fridge was full of premade food. Dinner was a casual affair, done in the living room while watching a movie (until the television exploded).
Come morning, dinner was tackled like a group of soldiers going to war. Bridgette and Martin were awake just before dawn to get started on the food. Cavendish, who naturally woke up early in the first place, jumped in to lend a hand. As soon as Milo, Sara, and Dakota dragged themselves out of bed, they got a quick breakfast and then armed themselves for dinner preparations. One turkey was already burnt to a crisp, and somehow the gravy froze into an icy block of gravy.
“Sara, open up the cans of cranberry sauce and put the sauce in a serving dish,” Bridgette instructed as she basted the turkey with chef-level precision. “Dakota, could you help Milo with the mashed potatoes? They tend to explode around him. I’ll go check on Martin with the corn on the grill. Cavendish, you can put those pies in the oven now that the fire is out.”
“Roger that, Mrs. Murphy!” Cavendish said with a salute.
“How do mashed potatoes explode around you?” Dakota asked Milo.
“Murphy’s Law, you know?” Milo shrugged.
“Yeah, but like how? What exactly causes potatoes to do that?” Dakota wondered.
“I’m sure there’s a scientific reason for it,” Milo said. “But that probably won’t be covered until high school science.”
Dakota mixed the milk, butter, salt, and pepper into the potatoes until it was combined and creamy. “Well, I’d like to see these things explode on my watch!”
Suddenly, the stuffing box tipped over and knocked a cranberry sauce can to the floor. Sara tripped over it and accidentally tossed the other can of cranberry sauce in the air. When Milo tried to catch Sara, they both fell over, and Milo’s hand smacked the spoon still sitting in the mashed potatoes. The spoon lifted up a scoop of mashed potatoes and catapulted it into Dakota’s face. Sara’s thrown can of cranberry sauce hit a carrot resting on a knife and sent the carrot into the air, where it landed in Dakota’s mouth. With the potatoes and carrot on his face, he looked more like a snowman dressed like Dakota.
Dakota spit the carrot out of his mouth. “I really should know better by now.”
With so much of the food being burnt or just flat-out destroyed, Cavendish and Dakota realized why Bridgette bought doubles of everything and ordered a grocery delievery. Four plates and one serving bowl were broken, too. But dinnertime rolled around and they had a decent spread: a well-cooked turkey, mashed potatoes, three corn on the cobs cut in half so there would be enough for everyone, cranberry sauce from a can, grilled vegetables, and instant gravy. Cavendish’s pies sat on the counter, ready for dessert later.
“This is actually better than last year’s dinner,” Martin said. “We saved a lot more food this time around.”
“Thanks for your help,” Bridgette said to Cavendish and Dakota.
“Thanks for inviting us to dinner,” Dakota said. “This is awesome.”
“Yes, you are excellent cooks,” Cavendish complimented. “What other things do you do on Thanksgiving?”
“Most would watch football. That is, American football,” Milo said. “We just try to get through dinner without anything going wrong. Then we try to watch movies until we pass out in food comas or until the TV breaks.”
“I’m guessing you’ll be having leftovers for lunch and breakfast tomorrow?” Dakota guessed. “I know how to make a killer breakfast out of Thanksgiving leftovers.”
“If anything survives, we’d be happy to try it out!” Sara cheered.
“By the way, did you get a chance to ask your landlord about the heat to your building?” Martin asked. “I know it sounds like we’re pestering, but Bridgette is already concerned about how long you spent in there while the heat wasn’t working.”
“I’m a mother, I act like one, and I won’t apologize for it,” Bridgette said sassily.
Cavendish poked at his dinner, exchanging a look with Dakota. “We did talk with our landlord, but he did not have a definitive answer for when it might be fixed. People are busy, you know?”
The entire Murphy family raised eyebrows at the former time travelers.
Dakota sighed. “Mr. Phillipps isn’t really overly concerned about getting the heat fixed until he’s ready for it. He doesn’t exactly like us.”
“That’s no excuse,” Bridgette scoffed.
“Dakota, you were right before. We can’t exactly afford to complain about this,” Cavendish said. “Before, our employer would send in the rent money, but they were not exactly punctual about it. We were inadvertently late on the rent so often that the landlord is not keen on helping us.”
“This isn’t a matter of rent being on time, which was not your fault since it was your employer’s responsibility. It’s about what your landlord is legally obligated to do,” Martin said.
“Legally, he might tell us we can’t live in our office, and then we’ll be homeless,” Dakota droned.
“Only until we could find a new place to live!” Cavendish added quickly at the concerned looks from the family. “Listen, we just have a little speedbump to get over. We can handle it. We just got new jobs and we can reevaluate our budget once we see the paycheck. Everything is fine.”
“Yeah, no worries,” Dakota said. “Let’s not think about that. This is a time for being thankful for what we got, right? Well, I’m thankful for good friends who insist on giving us a warm place to sleep when our heat is out.”
“I am thankful that I could be helpful and was not in the way during dinner preparations,” Cavendish said.
“I’m thankful for fewer fires than last year,” Milo said.
The conversation moved on, though Cavendish and Dakota noticed Martin and Bridgette whispering to each other. They couldn’t focus too much on that, though. About halfway through dinner, a pack of hound dogs burst into the house and jumped on the table, scattering everyone to the safety of the kitchen. They could only watch in disbelief as the dogs gobbled up all the food and then darted out the way they came in, leaving a mess of turkey bones, crumbs, and broken dishware behind.
“Aw man. I didn’t even get to try the gravy,” Milo pouted. Everyone worked together to clean up and take it all to the bins outside. There wasn’t much else they could do.
“Mom, can I make myself a sandwich or something?” Sara requested. “I’m still hungry.”
“Me too!” Milo piped up.
“Go ahead, if we have anything for sandwiches, that is,” Bridgette said.
“Better idea!” Dakota proposed. “I’ll preheat the oven for those pizzas I got, and we’ll start with those pies. Dessert before dinner. No big deal.”
“Hardly traditional, but certainly more filling than sandwiches,” Cavendish agreed.
Milo and Sara were eager for pizza, and Martin and Bridgette reminded their children of their manners and thanked Cavendish and Dakota for the save. The rest of the evening was spent eating pie for dinner, having pizza for dessert, and watching movies together until they all passed out in random spots around the living room.
The Murphy family spent the Friday after Thanksgiving relaxing at home. There weren’t any leftovers from dinner—for obvious reasons—but there were extra ingredients unused from yesterday, so Dakota made good on his promise of a great post-Thanksgiving breakfast. Martin disappeared around lunchtime without saying where he was going. He returned at dinnertime, looking very proud.
“You’ll be happy to know that your heat is going to be fixed by Monday!” Martin announced. “I made a surprise inspection to your building and informed your landlord that the heat needed to be fixed ASAP or the pipes would freeze and burst. I also made sure he knew that it was his responsibility as landlord to fix problems in the building as soon as he is aware of them, lest he be given a fine.”
“Uh, that’s great, Mr. Murphy,” Dakota said with some nervousness. “We do appreciate it. But I think we mentioned that we don’t know if we’re technically allowed to live in that office.”
“You are allowed to live there,” Martin assured. “I checked the permits for that area. The building is permitted for both business and residential purposes, and there is nothing that says one unit cannot be used for both. Next time your landlord gives you trouble with repairs or the like, you give me a call.”
Cavendish and Dakota relaxed when Martin said that, and they were touched that he went to such lengths for them. “That was very kind of you, Mr. Murphy. Thank you,” Cavendish said.
“It was no trouble at all,” Martin assured. “You mentioned yesterday about the things we’re thankful for. Bridgette and I are both thankful that Milo has other adults he can trust and are willing to help and protect him.”
“Happy to,” Dakota assured.
Knowing they had an actual deadline for their heat to be fixed, Cavendish and Dakota dedicated their time spent at the Murphy house helping out as best they could in any area. On Tuesday, they returned to their office space and were delighted to find it heated again. They were less than thrilled to get a visit from their landlord, who looked a little less grumpy with them this time.
“I hope everything is working fine. The heater needed quite the overhaul,” Mr. Phillipps said.
“It seems all is well and the water is coming out hot like it should,” Cavendish said. “We get our first paycheck in a few days, so we will have the rent in soon after.”
“Great,” Mr. Phillipps grumbled. “How in the heck do you two know the city’s key safety inspector?”
“Just got good connections, I guess,” Dakota said with a smug smile.
Mr. Phillipps looked mildly impressed. “I’ll say.” He bid the men goodbye and departed, his walker tapping noisily on the ground.
“You know, I’m thankful we met Milo,” Dakota said as he and Cavendish enjoyed a delivered pizza for dinner. “If you think about it, we wouldn’t have saved the world without him.”
“Definitely not,” Cavendish agreed. “The boy has made quite an impact on us, hasn’t he?”
Dakota nodded. “It’s nice to have some family around despite not being able to time travel anymore.”
“Agreed,” Cavendish said with a warm grin.
It was plain to see that they could not imagine their lives now had they not met Milo Murphy.