The resisting reader

Had I but known then what I know now, I would have come up with some feeble excuse not to go to see my grandparents this weekend. Mrs. Anderson had asked me over for Thanksgiving dinner on Monday, and I went over to the house after we got back from Ottawa. The first thing I noticed was that Duncan was in track pants and moving very slowly. He seemed a little puffy, too.
"Are you all right? If you're sick..." I started to say, but he cut me off.
"No, not sick. Not yet."
"So, what did you do this weekend?" I asked. "Did you see April?"
"Eva and I had a pleasant weekend, thank you very much." That was bad. Then he continued. "I had Thanksgiving dinner with Eva on Friday, and then I went over and had Thanksgiving dinner on Saturday, and then on Sunday we had Thanksgiving dinner together, and we had Thanksgiving dinner this afternoon."
"Well, you actually didn't have Thanksgiving dinner with her on Friday, at least. You were over at my house, and here's a photograph to prove it." The date and timestamp were pretty obvious. "However, that still means that you've had three turkey dinners so far and you're about to have your second in one day. At least my grandparents had the turkey yesterday." Duncan started moaning.
"Don't say turkey. Oh man oh man, I don't know what's happened to me."
"Well, it looks like you're gained weight, and a well-founded fear of turkey," I said.
During dinner, Duncan kept trying to give bits of food to the cats, but only Falstaff seemed interested. Faustus just slept, and seemed to be bigger than the last time I saw him. Duncan had a hard time staying awake after all that turkey. I managed after dinner to haul him over to the bathroom scale, and found out how much he'd gained over the weekend.
"That's it. You're going to the Y with me until you get rid of that," I said. Duncan looked surprised. "Yes, the Y, and if you tell anyone that I actually go there and work out I'll let Eva feed you forever." It was kind of mean, but I really didn't want to run into anyone from school while I was lifting weights. Anyway, at that point Duncan was more afraid of food than anything else.
When I got home Charles Wallace was sitting at the desk in my room.
"Well, how was he?" he asked.
"Not good. Eva managed to trap him into multiple holiday dinners. He's gained about 7 kg and cringes when you mention poultry."
"I know you're not going to like this, Sandra, but you know who can give you some real answers about hypnosis and mind control." He was right.
"Damn it. All right, I'll call Arne."