He said let’s stay home for Thanksgiving. She said this again. He said only once a year. She said you know mom and pop are expecting us. He said I don’t want to spend every Thanksgiving with your family. She said it’s tradition. He said we can start our own tradition. Chinese take-out. Pickled herring. Sushi. She said you knew it came with the territory. He said your father is a turkey. She said but you are thankful for the checks my father writes for grad school. He said okay, your father is Santa Claus.
She said let’s stick to Thanksgiving. Can I tell them we’ll be there? He said maybe I’m the cross he has to bear. She said he worked third shift at the mill his entire life. He said his beloved factory moved to China. She said I told Mom I’d bring the pies. He said so, tell them you’ll be there. She said are you going to send me—with my hand out? He said hell no. Fuck yes. Tell them we’ll be there.