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All week Tyler has been overhearing his parents discussing “the Grandma problem.” What if Aunt Jeanne is right and something happens to Grandma? Maybe she should be persuaded to move in with one of her kids?

Tyler finally speaks up. “Grandma says she's only leaving home feetfirst.” Both his parents are startled to find him standing in the doorway. Mom goes from surprise to annoyance at Tyler's “bad habit of eavesdropping.” But it's not as if his house is posted with no listening signs! One thing Tyler knows for sure: if giving up the family farm would've killed his dad, moving Grandma out of her beloved home-stead will kill her even quicker, sad and old as she is.

But now that they're seated together at the big table, “the Grandma problem” seems forgotten. Everyone has con-tributed a dish or two, including the thirty- pound turkey Tyler's mom cooked in their oven and drove over, since she was so worried about a spill. Grandma has baked all the pies, and the Mexicans have brought over some refried beans and tortillas. Of course, Aunt Jeanne and Uncle Byron made an entrance with some fancy cheeses that are so smelly Tyler wouldn't get close to them, much less put them in his mouth.

They go around the table saying their thanks, the slowpokes being urged with coughs to move along. By the time it's Tyler's turn, everyone is too hungry to listen to one more thank- you. Tyler doesn't have to say much—something else to be thankful for. “Thank you for my dad getting cured.” Next to him, his mom squeezes his hand gratefully.

The Marías and their father and uncles are all too shy to say anything. But after Mari translates what's being asked of the guests, her father says thank you to the Paquettes for making them feel like family. His two brothers chime in,
“Gracias.”

“We call it Día de Acción de Gracias,” Ofie tells the table.

“The Day of Saying Thank You,” Luby translates.

“Well, thank you and
gracias
to each and every one of you,” Grandma finally ends the round.

Before anybody can add anything else, Uncle Larry is carving up the turkey and telling everyone to hand over their plates before it's Christmas.

It's late by the time the meal is done and the Mexican workers head off for the evening milking. Mom convinces their father to let the three Marías stay a little longer. The two youngest have especially hit it off with the nine-year-old twins, who treat Luby and Ofie like real-life dolls, dressing them up in their hand-me-downs they brought in a bag. Meanwhile, Mari is busy helping Grandma with the dishes. “What a doll!” Aunt Vicky whispers to Tyler's mom, who agrees, “They all are.”

Tyler heads for the front room, where Ben and his dad and uncle and boy cousins are all watching the football game. During a lull, Uncle Larry starts telling Dad how a pal in the sheriff's department dropped by to let him know that things are heating up for Mexicans in the area. Three were picked up just last week walking down the road to a milking barn. Two more were taken away after a trooper stopped them for speeding and the driver didn't have a license or a current registration for the used car he'd bought off another worker who'd left to go back to Mexico.

Tyler had stopped worrying about the Mexicans working on the farm, but, hearing Uncle Larry, he starts worrying again. Except that now he doesn't really want Mari and her family to go away. He wants the law to be changed so they can stay, helping his family as well as themselves.

“I tell Vicky, don't get too attached,” Uncle Larry is saying. “It's just a matter of time.”

“Did I hear my name being used in vain?” Aunt Vicky has come from the kitchen, where the cleaning up is winding down.

“Nothing, dear.” Uncle Larry motions toward the TV, where some tricky play is in progress. His team messes up, and he turns his attention back to his wife. “Just talking about our friend's visit from the sheriff's department.”

Aunt Vicky sinks into the arm of her husband's chair with a sigh. “I just don't see how we're expected to survive.”

Tyler's mom has joined them in the front room. “Where's Jeanne?” she asks. They all know Uncle Byron is in the small front parlor reading the
New York Times,
which he reads every day to keep up with the state of the world.

“You and Larry, two peas in a pod,” Aunt Vicky likes to say. Turns out Uncle Larry reads his weekly
Valley Voice
down to the classifieds. Every time Aunt Vicky says so, Uncle Byron's distinguished- professor eyebrows arch ever so slightly at the comparison.

“I think she went upstairs to check on the girls,” Aunt Vicky answers Mom. “They're in the attic playing dress- up. Did you see their little faces when they saw that bag of clothes?”

Mom nods, laughing. “I know. They think we're rich because we have stuff to throw away. And we
are
rich, compared. I tell you, having these Mexicans has put a whole new spin on our lives, hasn't it, sweetheart?” Mom beams at Dad, who looks uncomfortable but nods in agreement.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, ladies,” Uncle Larry says grimly. “Any day now, Homeland Security is going to pay us all a visit. I don't put it beyond them to just come on our property and haul them off.”

Tyler is shocked that his uncle, a reasonable adult, would think this is possible. But if he's shocked, it's nothing compared to Mari, who has just appeared at the door, the cleanup over.

“Folks,” Tyler's mother warns. But it's too late. Mari's face has tensed up with worry and fear, the way it gets when Mr. Bicknell starts talking about the future of the planet. “Honey, Uncle Larry was exaggerating,” his mom explains. “Weren't you, Uncle Larry?”

Tyler's uncle looks unsure, but then gazes toward the door, where Grandma has joined Mari, her old, spotted hands on the young girl's shoulders. “Of course I was,” he says. “You know me,” he adds unconvincingly, “I'm one of those caught-a-big-fish kind of guys.”

“I'll say,” Aunt Vicky pipes up, and Uncle Larry pretends he thinks it's funny, too, when everyone—except Mari— bursts out laughing.

When Grandma goes up to check on the little girls, Aunt Jeanne, who has joined the group, closes the door.

“Larry, turn that thing off, will you.”

“For crying out loud!” Uncle Larry grumbles under his breath. He is the youngest of the three siblings. “I know just how you feel,” he has told Tyler. “We're the low men on the totem pole.” But Tyler can't say he has noticed. In fact, Uncle Larry is the bossiest of all his relatives. Well, sometimes Aunt Jeanne is a close second.

“We need to decide about Mother,” Aunt Jeanne begins.

“What now?” Uncle Larry says like he doesn't think there's a problem.

Aunt Jeanne crosses her arms. “Maybe you need to take a little trip upstairs.”

“Maybe the kids need to leave?” Tyler's mom puts in. But Uncle Larry's boys protest. They want to watch the game, and no, they can't go to the other TV, since Grandma gave it away to the Mexicans.

Aunt Jeanne nods all around, as if this is further proof of what she has been saying. “In the kitchen, then,” she directs. The adults rouse themselves from their chairs and file out for their summit meeting. The TV blares on.

Tyler tries to watch the game, but he feels distracted. For one thing, he can sense Mari's discomfort as she sits on her hands in a chair, feeling she has to be polite, but not under-standing at all how football works. When Sara announces she's leaving, Mari decides it's time to go home, too. She heads upstairs to round up her sisters.

Tyler joins Sara in the hallway. He does not want to be around if there's going to be a big scene with Grandma. From the kitchen, they can hear Aunt Jeanne's voice, just some words here and there: “Like a voodoo altar … Three car accidents … Shouldn't be living alone …” Tyler wishes he could go defend Grandma, but then he'd be accused of eavesdropping again.

Soon Ofie and Luby are stomping down the stairs, upset that they have to go home. Mari follows, trailed by Grandma and the twins. The party is breaking up. “Bye, Grandma, thanks!” Tyler says in a loud voice to alert the closed- door kitchen meeting. He's hoping that if there has been a vote, two sons and daughters-in-law can prevail against Aunt Jeanne. As for Uncle Byron, he's still in the front parlor, reading his
New York Times,
keeping up with the world while a minor revolution is erupting right here in his mother-in-law's house.

Tyler invites the three Marías to come over and look at the stars through his telescope. Their father and uncles won't be done with the milking and feeding and cleanup for an-other couple of hours. And three girls all together must make it okay to be in a boy's bedroom even if it is nighttime.

“Do you think it's true what your uncle was saying about
la migra
?” Mari asks as they all walk over to Tyler's house. She has to explain that
la migra
is what the Mexicans call the agents from Homeland Security who try to catch them.

Tyler can't honestly say whether or not Homeland Secu-rity will raid the family's farms. But as with the possible planetary dangers in the offing, they should at least have a plan.

“What kind of a plan?” Luby wants to know.

“You know,” Tyler offers, “like a fire drill at school.”

“We all run out of the house?” Luby asks.

“We shouldn't run.” Ofie is good at remembering rules. “We file out and … Then what?” She looks over at Tyler.

“We hide, right?” Luby thinks this might be a fun game after all.

“There's all kinds of hiding spots,” Tyler agrees. He can't believe he is the same boy who several months ago wanted this family deported. Now he's plotting how they can escape capture. But maybe it's like the Underground Railroad: helping slaves find freedom. Besides, two of these girls are American citizens.

“Grandpa showed me where there's a cave,” Tyler ex-plains. “We can go exploring tomorrow when it's light.”

By now they're at the back door and Sara's getting ready to call her new boyfriend, Hal, when the phone rings. She lets it ring three times before she picks it up. “Hello,” she says casually. “Hello? HELLLOOOOO?! Will you stop it, Jake? I'm going to report you to the police!”

She slams the phone into its cradle. The three Marías are surprised at this outburst. So Tyler explains about the an-noying caller who keeps hanging up when they answer.

Mari looks like she has seen her second ghost of the evening. “I think that maybe it's our mother,” she says haltingly. She just recently gave their new phone number to their father's friend to take over to their former apartment. But it could be that their mother went by before the old tenants were deported and got the Paquettes’ number instead.

Tyler doesn't get it. If the girls’ mother went to Mexico for a visit, wouldn't the family call her so she'd know where they'd be when she got ready to return? “You mean she doesn't know where you are?”

Before Mari can reply, Ofie speaks up. “We don't know where she is.” Then, in a rare moment of self- doubt, she turns to her big sister. “Right, Mari?”

“Papá said she went to the other side of life,” Luby recalls. She is holding on so tight to her stuffed puppy, it'd be a dead dog if it were alive. “Right, Mari?”

Now Tyler is completely confused.
The other side of life
is the way people talk about Gramps's death. But how can the girls’ mother be dead and be on her way back from a trip to Mexico? “But she's alive—right, Mari?”