Yellow Shirt Girl

In my family, Thanksgiving is always quite the ordeal.

There are so many people in my family that it’s always a really large gathering, but it’s usually the same people who attend it every year. Cousins, siblings, grandparents, and even some of our more distant relatives all join together at my great aunt’s large home, where we host a potluck brunch and everyone brings their favorite dishes. We gather around to watch movies and eat as many helpings of food as we can fit in our stomachs. However, a few years ago, we had an unexpected guest.

Right before COVID-19, my family had our last Thanksgiving together, unbeknownst to us. However, because of my job, I was unable to attend the family celebration. My work had scheduled me from 9 to 5, and the brunch is usually around 1 or 2. I was very sad, because Thanksgiving is one of the few times a year where I get to see all of the cousins and aunts and uncles I love so much in one place. I was not thrilled to have to work on Thanksgiving day, and I wasn’t going to be able to go to my great aunt’s house. Or so I thought.

The night before I had to go in to work, I texted my grandma that I was sorry, but I wouldn’t be able to make it to brunch this year because of my work schedule. She told me that she understood, since the place I was employed at was understaffed. I was relieved, because usually my family makes a much bigger deal if someone misses a major holiday gathering. Luckily for me, she was in a more forgiving mood this time.

The next morning, I woke up and went to work as usual, not expecting my phone to be drowning in notifications midday. At around 2 or 3 pm, I was getting texts from relatives left and right, some that I didn’t even know had my phone number. I stepped out on a break to see what was going on, assuming something horrible happened since everyone in my family

They were all very similar texts. My grandma was asking me why I had lied about not coming to brunch, and my brother asked why I was running around outside instead of coming in to eat food. Some were even from my younger relatives, my cousins telling me to come in and check out the presents they had got for their recent birthdays and that they were excited to see me.

I was baffled, mostly because I was still sitting at work, but also because of the sheer volume of relatives who seemed shocked by my unexpected presence at the Thanksgiving meal. But that was the problem, I wasn’t there. I replied to most of my relatives with a picture of myself sitting at work, or for my brother and cousins who were younger, a video on Snapchat of my workplace with a timestamp and a Thanksgiving filter.

Everyone involved was very confused. I got many replies from my relatives saying that I was pranking them, or that my pictures were from a different day. However, my mom and dad confirmed my alibi, telling them that they saw me go to work that morning and suggested that everyone go look for my car. Apparently, when they all flocked to the front window, none of them saw my car in either of my great aunt’s driveways, and it wasn’t along the street either, confirming that I wasn’t there.

I was panicking, wondering if my whole family was going insane or having some sort of mass hallucination. I kept telling them that they were acting crazy and insisting that I was at work, and finally, they believed me. They still weren’t sure why the girl outside had looked just like me, or how they all assumed and simultaneously agreed that it was me just playing a trick on them.

Next month, at the next family gathering for Christmas dinner at my grandma’s house, all of my cousins were teasing me about the events of Thanksgiving and how I had been there all along. I told them I had no clue what they were talking about and that they needed to explain the whole situation, and so they did. Apparently, there had been a girl around my age, with the same exact build, height, hair color, and features as me, running around in my aunt’s yard. She was wearing a yellow shirt, which I told them that I would never own (mostly since yellow is my least favorite color in the whole world), and I definitely was NOT wearing that on Thanksgiving day, since my work uniform was a red shirt with black pants.

This other girl, forever dubbed “The Yellow Shirt Girl” as a joke among my cousins, is forever a mystery to us to this day. She must have been a neighbor’s daughter or granddaughter, but my great aunt claims that none of her neighbors have any that young, or they have all boys. Whatever the case, it was a very strange encounter, and it led to years of inside jokes for me and my family. Now, whenever I text them that I’m coming for Thanksgiving, they will jokingly set two places and they will tell me that there’s enough for both of us.

I hope my Thanksgiving twin is out there doing well somewhere right now.