There's an episode of the Gilmore Girls entitled "A Deep-Fried Korean Thanksgiving," where Rory and Lorelai end up attending four separate Thanksgiving dinners, all in the course of eight hours. That's what today sort of felt like, for me.
We started the day by visiting Scott at 11:30, Corb's brother, as well as Corb's mom. This was probably the potentially drama-prone part of the day. With all the drama surrounding the sale of the house these past few months, Corb's mom and grandmother were not eating dinner with Scott and his family, and the question I had was, would they even spend time in the same room together?
As it was, Corb's mother timidly stepped into Scott's part of the house to say "Happy Thanksgiving," and Scott gave her a big hug, and she started crying. That was sweet, although Scott then went into the other side of the house to say hello to his grandmother, and that reception wasn't exactly warm. She's a great lady, but when she's angry, you know it, and she hasn't spoken or seen Scot or his family since June, even though she lives five minutes away. That must be tough. I can't imagine my grandmother holding a grudge for five months.
After that, it was off to see my parents at their home in Plymouth. This had its own element of drama, since it was Corb's first visit on a holiday to my family, but that worked out just fine. My brother and sister both really love Corb, and the only complaint I heard was from my mother, who wanted us to eat Thanksgiving dinner with them. We only pigged out on appetizers, and then had to head off to Josie's for dinner.
Which was HUGE, as you can see. After dinner, I barely had room for dessert, even an hour after dinner was in my belly. Turkey, stuffing, squash, broccoli casserole, summer squash and zucchini, potatoes, gravy, rolls...and good company. It was an excellent dinner.
And now, at midnight, comes the best part of the day. A slice of pie and a cup of tea, right before bed. The world is asleep. Oliver is running around in the living room, playing with a jingly toy, and Corb is snoring in the little bedroom. I hear the rain pounding a steady rhythm outside. I'm sitting here, Indian style in my favorite chair, a hand on my beard, scratching the chin, and feeling a heaviness in my belly from a day of indulgence.
Very pleased with progress for "Late Night Show." I've mapped out the entire end of the novel, and basically have seven chapters left. It's been a long journey, but it's underway again, and this year, I don't have the weight of a play looming over my shoulder. It's a good feeling, made all the better by the hint of possibility that I can see, hovering just around the horizon.