Sydney's Thanksgiving

Sydney felt excitement rushing through her as she rushed to the window and threw open the shades. It was just as she’d hoped, it was snowing, huge snowflakes falling out of the sky and drifting gently to the ground, beginning to coat everything with a clean whiteness. Her feathers ruffled gently at the sight of the snow, glad of the warmth of the inside, but in awe of the beautiful cold outside.

Sydney rushed out into the hall, ready to start the day, Thanksgiving was one of her favorite Holidays next to Christmas, and her boyfriend Omar was coming over for dinner. It was the first time her grandparents would get to meet him, and though she was a little anxious about that, she was excited for him to get to know the family.

As she made her way into the kitchen, she found her mother, already up and baking, tonight they were going to have a feast.

“Hi Mom,” she said brightly as rushed over to help her mom, pecking her cheek, “Need help with anything.” The timer was going off, and her Mom looked busy, so Sydney rushed over to turn it off and get the Corn Pudding out of the oven. As she put on an oven mitt and turned to open the oven, she could smell the wonderful aroma of the pudding rising in the air. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” said Sydney’s Mom, brushing flour off her wing feathers, “could you get started on the Cranberry Sauce for me, I’m trying to finish up on the Pecan Pie.”

“Okay Mom,” Sydney said as she put the Corn Pudding down on the oven top and rushed to the fridge to take out the cranberries to get started on the sauce. So many options, she couldn’t wait for Omar to come over and see how Thanksgiving was really done.

The moment she had that thought, she felt guilty, it wasn’t his fault he was having a hard time with his parents right now. She’d just be there to give him the joy of Thanksgiving that he wouldn’t otherwise have at home this year.

After Sydney finished with the cranberry sauce, she put on her coat and went out to get some supplies at the store. As she stepped outside, she could feel the cold weather on her feathers and stood there a moment to take it in. She knew that snow was reserved for Christmas, but it was November and it could snow whenever it wanted, and it was a reminder that Christmas was just around the corner, her favorite Holiday (no offense Thanksgiving).

As Sydney walked down the street, a car suddenly zoomed by, nearly splashing her with slush. Sydney stepped back startled, it must be one of the senior girls and her friends cruising along in their new 2024 Toyota Corona or something. Merida was it? Sydney still wasn’t sure exactly how she gotten it, her family wasn’t exactly poor, but she doubted they had the kind money to just put down on a brand new car like that. Sydney shrugged, she just hoped that she didn’t get in an accident, Merida didn’t strike her as a bad chick, but she could seem a little careless sometimes, especially cruising along at those speeds in this weather.

When Sydney arrived at the grocery store, she felt relieved to get out of the weather for a bit (nice though the snow was), and went through the aisle to get the groceries. Passing the eggs aisle, she shivered. Fortunately, she had just laid one the other day, so she didn’t expect any unexpected… incidents today in front of Omar and her family.

Unfortunately, they just had to have rearranged the shelves again recently and she had to ask for help from a handsome young cashier to find what she was looking for (what, she could appreciate the looks of a nice rooster, even if Omar was the only one for her). Thanking him, she went to the checkout lane, bought the groceries, and once again was out in the weather.

When she got back home, her father was up. Seeing Sydney with the groceries, he turned to his wife flustered.

“You should’ve got me up, I could’ve gotten the groceries.”

“Don’t worry dad,” said Sydney, holding up the bags, “I enjoyed the walk.”

“That’s not the point,” said Sydney’s father, walking into the livingroom in frustration. He was a terrible cook, and he always felt guilty about how little his involvement was with dinner. He always made up with it by doing the dishes, but that didn’t help how he felt now, nothing to do but sit down and watch the game. And he didn’t even like the Packers, and Lions ate Poultry for Thanksgiving, so either way it was a lose/lose.

“You better get your brother up and out here,” Sydney’s mom told her, “Tell him if he doesn’t help with dinner, he’s going to have to help your father with dishes.”

“Okay Mom,” Sydney said before rushing to her brother Howard’s room.

When he was up, the two of them returned to the kitchen and helped finish the feast.

When they finally pulled the finished Pot Pie out of the Oven, there was nothing to do but wait for the Grandparents to arrive. So the three of them went to the livingroom to join father by the TV.

“How was the game sweaty,” Sydney’s mom asked, pecking him softly on the cheek.

“Horrible, let’s see what else is on.”

He picked up the remote and clicked through the channels.

“Do you think we can catch Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving tonight,” Sydney’s Mom suggested.

“Oh no,” said Howard, “That’s only on Apple TV now.”

“Of course, streaming,” Sydney’s mom grumbled, “ruins everything. Can’t watch anything without it being locked up behind some paywall anymore.”

Fortunately, the conversation didn’t have time to continue, because at that moment, there was a knock at the door. Sydney’s Dad stopped and looked at his watch confused. “They shouldn’t be here for another hour,” he said.

“That’s probably Omar,” Sydney said, standing up. “I’ll get it.”

Sydney hurried to the door, her Mom following her, and Sydney opened the door. Sure enough it was Omar. Sydney’s Mom’s eyes lit up. “Hi Omar, glad you’re here, come in, come in.”

Omar stepped into the warmth of the house, but his eyes were downcast. Sydney stepped to cheer him up. “Omar! How are you doing?”

Omar’s parents had been fighting alot lately, and Omar’s mom had decided to not even make Thanksgiving dinner this year, so Sydney had took it upon herself to invite him over. Sydney’s parents, who saw Omar as a nice young man, and someone who was very polite to their daughter, were overjoyed to have them.

“Come on,” Sydney said, inviting him over to the couch, “We were just about to watch Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving.”

Omar looked at her confused, “I thought that was only on Apple TV. You have it on BluRay?”

Sydney looked at her father and brother, still by the couch.

“No,” she admitted regretfully.

“Wait a second,” said Sydney’s dad, getting up, “I might still have it recorded on one of our old tapes.”

Sydney and her brother, and Omar followed her father out to the garage where there was a pile of boxes of old VHS tapes, and he dug through a few of them until he produced the tape he was looking for, “Ah, the Thanksgiving of 2003, me and your Mom were a young couple then, barely met, good memories. They were starting to phase out VHS’ back then, but we knew these things were worth keeping.”

So they returned to the livingroom, and Howard began hooking up the VHS player to the TV, “See, I don’t even need to do dishes, I’m the entertainment master.”

Sydney rolled her eyes, but even she was slightly amused.

So they watched Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. It was a fun rollback, complete with ads from the early 2000’s, including one for The Return of the King and Finding Nemo.

“We should’ve found a tape from when I was even younger, now that would’ve really brought us back, Ronald McDonald of the 90s was the goat.”

Sydney’s mom laughed at her husband’s remark.

When the program was over, with a little bit of time to spare before the Grandparents arrived, Sydney’s father looked out the window at the snow falling down. He waved to Omar.

“Hey, sonny, the weather looks nice, what’d’ you say about the two of us going for a walk?”

Omar shrugged and looked back at Sydney. She shrugged back. She figured her father had something he wanted to talk to him about, but he would go easy on him, so she waved for him to go. Omar cocked his head in a farewell gesture, and grabbing his stuff, followed Sydney’s father out the door.

Once outside Sydney’s Dad led Omar down the road to the edge of the forest. Omar followed him down a trail leading into the quiet woods where all was quiet and peaceful. The snow was lighter here under the trees, and only soft speckles of white dusted the frozen autumn leaves that were coating the forest floor.

Sydney’s father turned to look at Omar, his voice kind, “Sydney really seems to like you.”

“Yeah, and I like her,” Omar admitted lightly.

"She said you were very comforting when she laid her first egg."

Omar shrugged, "I also laughed at first, but that wasn’t fair of me."

Sydney's father chuckled, "It happens, at least you're willing to admit it. What's important is that she needed support, and you were there to give it, not seeking anything in return."

Omar shifted his feet through the frozen leaves, causing them to cackle under his weight. "I wish my father was like that," Omar sighed, "my Mom makes all the dinner, does all the dishes, and all my father wants to do is sit around watching football all day, no wonder she doesn't want anything to do with it this year. I'm just afraid I'll turn out just like him."

Sydney's father looked at Omar gently and laid a wing on his shoulder, "we can't always know what kind of people we'll become, but we can often see indications of it by who we are now, and for a start, I like what I see."

Omar turned away, "That's not what my Mom says. Every time I do something wrong, she tells me that's exactly how he is."

Sydney's father looked at him gently, "Well, I don't know your father, so I can't compare you to him, I can only compare you to you."

"I just hope you're right," Omar said.

Sydney's father shrugged, "it's not just me I'm going off of, it's Sydney. I know it's crazy, a father trusting their own daughter's judgment, but she's always been a good judge of character in the past, and for whatever reason, she's chosen you."

When they returned back to the house, Sydney’s Mom had hot chocolate ready for them. Though the nice gesture, she was beginning to get concerned, the Grandparents still hadn’t shown up yet.

“I wonder what’s keeping them,” she said, “I hope they’re alright.” She looked at Omar, “Anywho, how was your talk?”

“It was alright,” Omar admitted. Sydney bumped his side gently and gave him a lighthearted knowing smile as she gave him his mug. He took a sip and it was delicious.

They continued to wait, but still, nobody arrived.

“I hope the food doesn’t get too cold with how long they’re taking,” Sydney’s Mom remarked.

Then finally, they heard the sound of wheels rolling up in the snowy driveway. The family went to the window to look, but it wasn’t the Grandparents’ vehicle, instead it was the 2024 Toyota Corolla from earlier.

“What are they doing here?” Sydney wondered.

The passenger door opened, and a strong looking Jockerel jumped out - that must be Miguel, Sydney thought - and he moved around to the trunk to open it, where he pulled out a walker. He brought the walker over to the side door, and proceeded to help an elderly hen out of the seat. It was Grandma.

The engine turned off, and Miguel and another chick (the driver of the vehicle), led Sydney’s two grandparents up to the door where the family was now waiting. It seemed there was one more chicken who had remained behind in the car, Sydney assumed she was keeping watch.

“What happened?” Sydney’s Mom asked as the Grandparents reached them on the doorsteps.

“Our car got caught in a drift.” Grandma said, “We didn’t know what we were going to do until these three fine fowlows came along and offered us a ride.”

“We totally rescued them from the snow,” the upperclasschick, Merida, announced proudly.

“Well come in,” Sydney’s Mom invited warmly, then to Merida and Miguel, “Would you two care to join us for a little bit as well?”

Merida looked back at the Toyota, “I’ll just let Melinda know, care if she comes in as well?”

“Of course,” Sydney’s Mom said.

Merida rushed back to the car to retrieve Melinda, and the rest of them hustled back into the house where it was nice and warm after the cold of the outside. Sydney rushed to give her grandparents a hug, and walked besides Grandpa as he made his way to the couch with his cane.

“Is this the boyfriend I’ve heard about?” Grandpa asked, looking at Omar.

“Yes, he’s really nice,” Sydney replied as she helped her Grandpa take a seat.

Grandpa looked Omar up and down. “We shall see.”

Omar flinched at that, feathers twitching slightly in his awkwardness.

Merida and Melinda returned from the car at this point, and closed the door behind them. “Wow, you have a nice house,” Merida remarked, though Sydney doubted Merida’s house was any lesser.

“Hey, maybe you can lay a nest like this,” Melinda clucked excitedly.

Merida shivered at the thought, glancing back at her behind, shifting her tail feathers a little, “Oh no, I think a Toyota is about my limit.”

Sydney really had no idea what the two of them were talking about, but by the look on Merida’s face, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Whatever memories were behind that conversation, they were painful. Sydney wanted to shy away from her own painful memories as well, it was Thanksgiving, she didn’t need to be reminded of every scream and shriek she had given during every egg she had laid - there’d be more of those where those came from, but she didn’t need to think about those today.

As all this was going on, Grandma brought her legendary Pumpkin Pie into the kitchen so Sydney's Mom could look at it. Sydney’s Mom had been insisting that she was getting too old to stand around cooking all day, especially now that she’d gotten her walker, but each and every year, Grandma had continued to bring her Pumpkin Pie, and each and every year, it had been as delicious as always.

“Okay, but you need to sit down now,” Sydney’s Mom insisted, ushering the fidgeting Grandmother over to the couch.

Finally, she turned to Merida and her friends, “So what are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

“Oh, I’m sure my Mom is going to make something or two,” Merida admitted, “Nothing like this though. We usually just go Black Friday shopping after this.”

“Well, why don’t you take home some of our food as well, that way you’ll have something a little extra after you’re done with yours.”

By now, Grandpa had turned on the football game, and was scowling big time, “Come on Cowboys, that’s not how you do it, take that touchdown from those Redskins.”

Sydney flinched and looked at Omar.

“How rude,” Merida exclaimed.

“Grandpa,” Howard lectured, “Now they’re called the Commanders now.”

“They ain’t no Commanders, back in my day, they were the Redskins, and nobody complained then.” Grandpa said, “You see me complaining everytime every Sports team gets a Chicken up as a Mascot? I’d be complaining all week!”

He did have a point, maybe(???), but nobody seemed to be in the mood of discussing the intricacies of who and who not sports teams should be named after, especially on a day like Thanksgiving.

Fortunately, Sydney’s Dad had chosen this time to start moving dishes from the kitchen onto the dining room table. He set the table with all sorts of dishes, Corn Pudding, Cranberry Sauce, Potatoes and Gravy, Sweet-Potato Cashew Bake, Pies, all in a circle around the middle. And while everyone began to gather around, in the center, Sydney’s Father placed a large Pot-Pie, Made lovingly by Sydney’s Mom herself.

“It all looks so delish!” Merida said, and her and Melinda started squealing.

Howard laid out the plates and silverware, and Sydney’s Dad began to cut the Pot-Pie, “There’s another in the oven in case anyone wants seconds,” he told everyone.

Then everyone sat down to eat, everyone passing around dishes and scooping up stuff on their plate. Merida and her friends gathered up some food of their own and put it on some plates covered with plastic wrap.

“Welp, we’re gonna head out now, thank you for inviting us in,” Merida said, “You will be able to take care of your car, right?” She asked the Grandparents.

“Yes, we’ll call the tow truck in the morning,” said Grandma, “You three take care.”

And so the three of them left, carrying their plates to the door.

“You better not spill any of that in my car,” Merida told Melinda and Miguel, “Or I will throw you out. I will throw you out, and then I’ll drive my beautiful car all over you, I’ll do donuts and wheelies and whatever else this baby can do. I can tell you first hand, those bronze finished 18-inch alloy wheels do not feel good.”

As they exited the door, they could hear one last cheer from Merida, “Now, let’s stop at my house for seconds, then on to Black Friday shopping!”

And with that, they were gone, back out in the snow with their Toyota Corolla Nightshade.

“I don’t think a Toyota can do wheelies,” Howard remarked.

“Now, before we eat,” said Sydney’s Father looking at everyone’s loaded plates, everyone impatient to dig in, “How about we say thanks.”

So with that he said Grace, and then it was time to say what everyone was thankful for.

“I’m thankful that I don’t have to do dishes,” Howard said.

The family looked at him strangely, but then they went on.

“I’m just Thankful to have us all here together for this Thanksgiving,” Grandma said cliche-ly, but ultimately, it was true, and everybody clucked their agreement.

Suddenly, there was the sound of revving outside, Merida must be back out cruising up and down the street in her Toyota again.

“I bet I know what Merida and her friends are thankful for,” Sydney clucked good naturedly. The family cluckled back in return. Then Sydney looked at Omar, “But what I’m Thankful for is for Omar being able to join us on this day.”

Omar looked back, filling with warmth, “And I’m Thankful for you for having me.”

Everyone nodded, sorry that he couldn’t be with his own family, but glad to have his company.

Everyone finished giving Thanks, and then it was time to eat up. Everyone had their share of all the many dishes laid out before them, trying to eat like chickens and not like pigs, and by the time everyone was done, they were all bloated. It was an epic dinner to say the least.

They all sat back on the couch after that, watching football (even though for some of them it was boring), just letting their tummies settle.

“We eat good, don’t you think?” Sydney asked proudly.

“Too good,” Omar moaned with a laugh.

They turned their attention back to the TV and returned to silence.

“So, what is this new Wish movie?” Grandpa asked finally as the ad came on the TV.

“Oh, it’s the newest Disney Princess movie,” Sydney said, hyping up for the movie her and Omar were hopefully going to see together later in the weekend.

“More of this woke Disney nonsense I’m guessing?”

Sydney shuffled her feathers uncomfortably, “I don’t think so. It’s about the Wishing Star that grants wishes.”

“Oh, like from Pinocchio,” Grandma said brightening up.

“Exactly,” said Sydney, relaxing a bit.

“Pinocchio, now that’s a good movie.” Grandma said, looking at Grandpa.

“Ew, Pinocchio’s boring,” Howard said.

Grandpa looked back at the screen, “And I’m assuming it doesn’t have any of them GBQ’s in it, or whatever they call themselves these days?”

Sydney flinched again, she had been raised the way she had been raised, but she didn’t know if it was for her to judge how others lived their lives when they weren’t hurting anyone. She had friends who were part of the community, and she never tried to be judgemental even though they were from a different background than her. She glanced at Omar, not sure how he must feel about this conversation. She loved her Grandpa, but sometimes she wished he’d just keep his beak closed. She wondered what it must be like for him having grown up in a time when some of the things that were once considered taboo were now seen as completely normal to the younger generation and vice-versa. She wondered if that would happen to her too when she got older, and what she would do to cope with it.

After awhile, their stomachs began to calm down, and Sydney’s parents got up to put on their coats.

“Family walk time,” Sydney’s Dad announced.

So everyone got up to grab their things and get all bundled up to go out onto the streets.

By this point, the sky had grown dark, and snow was falling down from the sky freely, coating the ground entirely and filling the air with an orange light, a symbol of closure to Thanksgiving, and the beginning of Christmas Season.

As they walked down the street, Sydney and Omar were wing in wing, illuminated by the street lamps, Omar felt such beauty of the night, both of them each glad just to have the other existing beside them.

They were almost back home when it happened, at first everything seemed normal, and then Sydney’s Father went down, slipping on a patch of ice hidden under the snow. Instantly, he let out a cry, and everyone rushed to his side.

“Dad! Are you okay?” Sydney cried.

There was a look of pain on Sydney’s father’s face as he held his leg, “Yeah, I think I just strained it a bit.”

“You’ll just have to take it easy for awhile,” Sydney’s Mom said as she helped her husband to his feet. Omar jumped in on the other side and they helped him limp the rest of the way home.

When they got back to the house, they helped Sydney’s Father over to the couch to sit down besides Grandpa.

“You’ll be okay, right?” Sydney asked.

“Yes, I just need to rest a bit,” he said.

Sydney turned to Omar, “We didn’t plan for it to turn out like this, but now that dinner’s over and we’re back from our walk-”

“CHRISTMAS MUSIC!” Howard shouted as he ran to the radio, turning the dials until he found the Christmas Station, and Rudolph the Red Nosed (Still Copyrighten) Reindeer (as Howard called it) blared onto the radio, fully bringing them out of Thanksgiving and into the Christmas Season.

The 49ers vs. Seahawks game began to start up, and Grandpa leaned back in his seat, “Now we’re squawking,” he said.

“Okay, I think it’s time I get to doing dishes,” Sydney’s father said, starting to get up. But the moment he put weight on his foot, he gave a cry, “Ow-ouch!” jumped a couple of times, then fell back onto the couch.

The rest of the family looked at him, thinking of what to do.

“Sydney, do you mind helping with dishes tonight?”

“Of course Mom- course not, I mean.”

Omar looked at the other family members.

“I’m old, you think I lived this many years just so I could miss a good game by doing dishes?” Grandpa said.

“I helped with dinner,” Howard said looking at his Mom, “You said I wouldn’t have to do dishes.”

“You’re right, I did,” Sydney’s Mom said disappointedly.

“I can help,” Grandma offered, struggling to her feet and making her way into the kitchen.

Omar looked at the family, unable to keep the acquisition out of his eyes.

“So you made all the dinner, and now you’re going to do all the dishes?” Omar asked.

“I’m afraid that’s the way it has to be,” Sydney’s Mom conceded.

Omar looked at the cockerels sitting on the couch, and then at Sydney and her mom preparing to do dishes with their frail Grandma, he felt an anger rising up in him, he had seen it all before, so many times. He thought of the conversation he had had with Sydney’s Dad, all the warmth he had felt being in this household on this nice day, and immediately his anger was drowned out by simply disappointment, “I just thought this family was different.”

Omar walked out of the room, sitting in the hall, taking a moment to himself. From the hall, he could see Sydney and her Mom making her way to the kitchen where Grandma could already be heard humming Christmas tunes.

Omar sighed and stood back up.

When he got to the kitchen opening, he looked at the three hens standing there, “Hey, I want to help.”

The three of them looked at him, then finally Sydney’s Mom nodded, stepping aside to give him room at the sink.

Omar made his way to the sink and started helping with the rinsing of dishes. They didn’t have a dishwasher, so they’d have to do everything by wing, getting their feathers all wet and everything.

As Omar worked, Sydney’s Mom stood beside him and looked at him kindly. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Omar said simply.

Silence.

“Stupid Seahawks!” Grandpa blasted out from the living room, “Don’t just let those 49ers take it! What even is a 49er? I was 49 once and it wain't nothin' special!”

“Listen, I know how it must seem to you,” Sydney’s Mom said beside him, turning the attention back from the racket in the livingroom, “But I know my husband, and every Thanksgiving he always does whatever he can to help with whatever he can help with. I know you haven’t… had the best experiences with Thanksgiving, but we look out for each other here, and I’ve seen how you and Sydney are together, I know you two would do the same.”

Yeah,” said Omar, “but I wouldn’t strain my leg just so I could get out of dishes.” He regretted it immediately after he said it, but he colun’t help it, his frustration was too much. But from the hurt look on Sydney and her mother’s face…

“He didn’t strain his leg to get out of dishes,” Sydney’s mother said, her expression hard.

Omar looked away. “I’m sorry, I know he didn’t.”

Sydney’s Mom’s face softened, but she didn’t say anything more.

They worked in silence a bit, Grandma eventually retiring back to the couch after her back got to be too much, and it was just the three of them.

Then, as they worked, they heard the sound of feet on the floor behind them. They turned around and saw Grandpa standing there.

“The Seahawks are being stupid right now,” Grandpa answered their questioning looks, “I figured I could step away from the game a minute to help with them dishes a bit.”

But by the way he nodded at Omar as he made his way to the sink, Sydney could tell exactly what it was that had changed his heart.

Shortly afterwards, Howard came in as well, everyone looked at him. He scowled. “Okay, I’ll help with dishes too,” he replied grudgingly. “Don’t thank me, it was you who raised me to be like this,” he said, looking at his Mom accusingly.

With the room at the sink now completely full, Sydney turned to her Mom, “Why don’t you sit down, you’ve done a lot today.”

Sydney’s Mom nodded gratefully and went back into the living room, stretching her back, glad to finally have a chance to relax.

So they went back to work, the mood much brighter now, the Christmas music coming from the radio, the sounds of the TV coming from the livingroom (somebody had turned off the game, and now they could hear the sound of some generic paid programing host giving some speech about diamonds or something on the air). Even when Grandpa went back to sit down (there was a fight over turning back on the game vs. continuing with paid programming, football won out), everyone was once again cheery.

“You’re getting soap everywhere,” Sydney teased Omar.

“Oh am I?” Omar asked, suddenly flinging a large swath of loose bubbles at her. (“Hey!” cried Howard, stepping out of the way of the soap fight.) The soap splashed her in the face, and Sydney took a step back in mock horror.

“Oh, will you look at that waddle,” Omar joked at the pile of bubbles under Sydney’s beak, “It looks so handsome on you.”

“Oh, you want to see a handsome waddle?” Sydney asked. She scooped up a huge pile of bubbles and started slathering it on Omar’s face like shaving cream. Omar tried throwing up a wing to stop her, but he was helpless to resist. She grabbed a second wingful of soap and proceeded to run it up his comb, Omar tried to fight back, laughing, and when Sydney was done, she backed away to inspect her work, “Now that’s a handsome comb and waddle,” she proclaimed.

“Okay, ew!” Howard exclaimed, “If you don’t stop this… whatever this is,” he gestured to all of them, “I am so going to leave you two to finish these dishes by yourselves.”

The two of them looked at him for a moment, and then they burst out laughing.

When they were done with dishes, the football game had finished. Sydney’s Dad was scrolling through the channels.

“Well, wha’dyou think? There’s this new special on about a Turkey who gives his life so his family can have Thanksgiving Dinner,” Dad said.

“What, no!” Everyone cried (except Howard who looked as if his interest was now peaked).

“Who even makes these kinds of stuff?” Sydney’s Mom declared.

“Carnivores these days,” Grandma said.

“Oh rooster, I wanted to watch that too.” Howard said sadly.

But it seemed it was getting time for everyone to get ready to leave anyway, so helping the Grandparents gather their things, they started to lead them out to Sydney’s parent’s car. Dad’s leg still strained, Sydney’s Mom offered to drive them home.

“You rest that leg up tomorrow,” said to her husband, “okay?” Then she gave him a peck before heading out.

As Omar helped Sydney’s Grandma to the car, she thanked him profusely, “It was nice to have such a nice young gentleman like you over for dinner tonight,” she said, then she stopped to look at him seriously, “Marry that girl.”

Omar shifted his feet awkwardly.

Then Grandma turned to Sydney, a stern look on her face, “If you ever dump that boy, I’ll whoop you so hard, the only tail feathers you’ll be able to grow will be prosthetics.”

“Grandma!” Sydney’s Mom said from the car, good humoredly, “Give them some time, they’re still young.”

“I want Great Grandbabies, and I want them from him!” Grandma declared.

Sydney flinched, knowing how those Great Grandbabies would feel to lay.

As the car pulled out of the driveway onto the snowy road, them officially on their way back home, Sydney and Omar were left standing out in the snow together.

“Thank you for coming over tonight,” Sydney said finally.

“Thank you for having me,” Omar replied.

“I told you we do Thanksgiving good, didn’t I?” Sydney asked.

“The best.” Omar replied.

Sydney felt her face glowing with warmth at this reply.

“I loved having you over today.” Sydney said.

Omar remembered all of his problems at home, but suddenly that all paled compared to how much happiness he’d had spending the day with Sydney and her family.

“I loved it too,” he said.

And there they stood in the night, wing in wing, just watching it snow.