Willamina Von GrubleSteinHoffmanVonGruble stared out her window of her 980th floor corner office. She was the CEO of “Passion Office Staples”, yes, THAT “Passion Office Staples” the most luxurious Avant fashion office staples in the world. You would think someone so successful in Newest York would be happy a week before Thanksgiving, but Willamina had the blues.
“I have the blues.” She thought bluely. She put on some music to reflect her blue feelings of having the blues and feeling blue – improvisational Bossa nova.
Her assistant, Martin, asked what was wrong.”What’s Wrong?” asked Martin.
Willamina sighed. “Oh. I am going back home for Thanksgiving. I haven’t been back in a very long time. It will be nice to see my friends and family, but I’m just so busy, materialistic, and self absorbed. Oh, no!”
Her assistant, Martin, asked what was wrong. ”What’s Wrong?” asked Martin.
“My flight boards in 3 minutes! I better start heading to the airport!”
And so Willamina Von GrubleSteinHoffmanVonGruble arrived back in her hometown of Misty Canker. It is a small, pleasant town, with a cute town square set in a nest of beautiful fall foliage stock images.
Willamina Von GrubleSteinHoffmanVonGruble couldn’t help but be excited seeing her mother and father after so much time. Mother Von GrubleSteinHoffmanVonGruble, and Father Von GrubleSteinHoffmanVonGruble welcomed their daughter warmly, and soon it was almost like old times.
Almost.
Father went to town to pick up groceries and supplies for Thanksgiving Dinner, and Willamina put away her things in her room and caught up with Mother.
“Willamina, we have a surprise for Thanksgiving dinner this year,” Mother said.
”Oh yeah? What’s that?” Willamina asked while putting away yet another sweater.
“Oh, you’ll see in a bit when Father gets back.”
”Why not tell me now?”
”Half-assed dramatic suspense,” Mother said, with mischief in her eye.
A little while later, Father returned from town. Goods for the Thanksgiving Day celebration filled the back of his rustic yet somehow street-legal truck. After all, this year the whole family, including Willamina’s three sisters, three brothers, eight cousins, and that weird Victorian child who just seems to show up and doesn’t talk but just stares and hums and is so goddam creepy nobody wants to talk to him so he just stands in the corner in his little blood stained sailor suit, will be there.
”I’ll help Father unload the charming rustic truck.” Willamina said.
“No need. He has help.” Mother said with a wry smile. Willamina went downstairs to the large but quaint kitchen to help.
“Don’t worry, bunny buggy. We got it,” said Father.
”We?” Willamina asked with a raised eyebrow.
”Didn’t Mother tell you? You’re not the only one staying this week to help with Thanksgiving dinner. And I’ve got big, BIG dinner plans for him.”
”Whaaa…” But she couldn’t finish her comically drawn out “whaaaat” before seeing who was walking in carrying a box full of tater radishes. It was… Tom!
“Tom? Tom Humdrum?” She immediately blushed. “Humdrum” was the cruel nickname given to poor Tom when they were all children. Just foolish little kids – like that creepy little Victorian girl that crawls on the ceiling. ”I’m sorry Tom. I’m sorry we called you that. You’re not Humdrum.” And Tom certainly wasn’t. This Tom was muscular and strong and handsome and… dreamy.
Tom looked at Willamina, then gave a good natured gobble. Willamina blushed. “Oh, thank you. That is kind of you to say. I guess it has been a while since we’ve seen each other.”
Father broke the moment. “Yes. Tom was renting out the top floor of his family home as an apartment to a nice young couple, two women from over in Nerbly County, when a Wildfire Axnado hit. That’s a tornado made completely of flames and axe blades. It hit the house and destroyed everything. Tom had nowhere to stay while the repairs are being done. So, we invited him to stay over and be our…”
”Dinner!” Mother called from the other room. “Dinner is ready!”
“Be our…guest” Father finished.
”Oh, wow. I mean. Oh, really?” Cool Move Willamina, she thought reproachfully. As they ate dinner, Willamina and Tom caught up. She told him about her busy, materialistic, and self absorbed life in Newest York and he told her about taking over the family’s pickle orchard. He was so different from the shy Tom she remembered. Now all grown, confident, strong, and funny… and dreamy.
When Willamina went to bed that night, she asked herself, “had I been misjudging Tom this whole time? Well, that’s not fair. We were just silly children. Besides, I should get my rest. A lot to do tomorrow.” She turned over and fell asleep to the hissing sound from the fork tongued Victorian child standing on her bed.
The next morning, Willamina met her long-time friend, Pam, for coffee. They caught up and for a while; it felt almost like old times again.
Almost.
“So it must be exciting living in Newest York and being so successful, materialistic, and self absorbed!” said Pam.
”It has its moments. But it can also feel lonely, even with so many people around.”
”So, are you seeing anyone?” Pam asked with a smirk.
”No. Not right now. I’ve gone a few dates here and there, but they just weren’t…weren’t..” An image of Tom flashed across Willamina’s mind and she had to stop herself. “Just weren’t what I was looking for, I guess.”
”So what are you looking for?” asked Pam
”I dunno. Maybe someone who is less big city, more appreciative of the simple things, the important things. Maybe… maybe…”
”Maybe someone who owns a pickle orchard?” Pam asked with a grin.
”What? How? What makes you say that?” Willamina asked, all flustered.
”Because Tom is across the street unloading a pickle shipment. You haven’t stopped staring at his tail feathers this whole time!”
”Well. He is cute. I always saw him as just a friend when we were kids, ya know?”
”I know. I also remember he had the biggest crush on you, but was too shy to say anything. He still asks about you.” Mischief glinted in Pam’s eye.
”What? What does he ask?”
”How are you? Do you like the big city? Are you still sexy?”
”WHAT?” Willamina almost dropped her coffee.
”Okay. I made that last one up. But, I dunno. There is something in his eyes when he hears your name, still. Just saying.”
”Oh, probably nothing. And we’ve both gone our separate ways. The past is the past.” Said Willamina and absentmindedly took a sip of Pam’s coffee while staring at Tom through the coffee shop window.
The rest of the day was busy cleaning the house and getting everything ready for Thanksgiving the next day. After finishing his pickle deliveries, Tom helped Father carry chairs and get things set up around the house. From time to time, Willamina would catch Tom looking over at her, then bashfully turn the other way. How could he still be bashful? Especially when he is so strong, so confident, so… dreamy.
By the end of the day, the house was ready, and everyone was exhausted. That evening, Willamina and Tom sat on the porch and drank Honey Blossom Tea, which turned out to be the favorite of both.
”So. Yeah. That’s how elevators work. You’ve never been on one? Really?”
Tom gobbled.
”Well. Maybe sometime, if you come to visit, you can ride one. I’m just saying. If you happen to be around Newest York, I mean.”
Tom gobbled.
“Good question, Tom. I don’t know where I see my future. I’ve been so successful at business. But I guess that’s not everything, you know. Being back home for almost one full day has given me a lot to think about. I love business, but work isn’t everything, and who’s saying there may be some things I’ve missed and not realized it?” Willamina and Tom looked at each other.
Tom gobbled.
“Well, if you put it that way.” She smiled at him and leaned over to his beak for a kiss.
“C’mon Tom! Oh, sorry. Hope I wasn’t interrupting you two.” Father stamped onto the porch carrying his hatchet. ”Say Tom. I have… uh… one last thing I need from you. A last thing. For Thanksgiving Dinner tomorrow.”
Tom gobbled.
“Where are you going?” Asked Willamina.
Father weighed the hatchet blade in his hand. ”Oh, just out to the dark, secluded woods. I just have one last… uh… thing, and I can’t do it without Tom.”
Tom gobbled.
Father chuckled nervously. “Yeah. Of course we can talk on the way. What’s on your mind?” Tom gave Willamina a long look, then followed Father into the dark secluded woods.
”Goodnight Tom” said Willamina, but they were already gone.
On Thanksgiving Morning, Willamina awoke slowly. She had trouble sleeping, and kept dreaming of a different future for her, maybe for her and Tom? She looked over at her alarm clock. 7:30AM! Oh, no! Thanksgiving dinner had started thirty minutes ago!
She shot out of bed and put on her clothes and brushed her hair. As she was about to leave her bedroom when she glimpsed herself in the full-length mirror. She was a mess: messy hair, wrinkled and messy clothes, and a messy life. She looked no better than the reflection of the laughing Victorian child with bloody hands. Willamina took a long breath, centered herself, and got properly dressed for the day.
She went downstairs to the long dining table, which stretched from the kitchen door to the end of the driveway. Cheer, laughter, and the familiar scents of Mashed Tater Radish, Hornet stuffing, Green Bean Banana Casserole, and roast Turkey filled the air.
At the head of the table sat Mother and Father, and seats for the kids and for Tom. Well, Willamina had set a place for Tom. Sitting next to her. But his seat was empty. Had he left? Wilhemina’s heart sank. “Happy Thanksgiving Everyone! Sorry I’m late,” Willamina said with a thick tongue. Everybody greeted her joyfully.
Father sliced some juicy turkey meat and slapped it on her plate. “Good morning, bunny buggy. Climb over the table and take a seat. You must be worn out from working so hard to get everything ready for today. Didn’t she do a great job, everyone?” Indeed, the house was festive and cheerful and everyone applauded Willamina’s efforts.
“Thank you. I am glad everyone is having a good Thanksgiving Dinner. Say…” Willamina asked with a dry throat. “Where’s … Where is Tom?”
Father gave her a sly grin. “Oh. You could say he’s closer than you think.” Father jabbed the carving fork into the turkey carcass.
Again, Willamina looked around. “Father. Did he… say anything to you in the dark, secluded woods last night?”
“I don’t know. Ask him.” Again, Father wriggled the carving fork in to a piece of Turkey bone and made it shake. Father looked at her with a beaming smile.
“What do you mean?”
Father and Mother both smiled, then pointed to the top of the stairs. Willamina turned and gasped when she saw Tom standing there. Handsomely dressed in his best little suit and tie. His waddle, normally stubbly in a rugged sort of way, was washed and clean shaven. Tom looked to her and smiled, not a nervous smile, a beautiful, beaky smile.
Father continued. “Last night I had taken Tom out to the dark secluded woods to slaughter him for Thanksgiving Dinner, but on the way he told me about his love for you, and asked for your… well… look at me going on like and old so-and-so. You tell her son- I mean- Tom.”
Tom confidently part walked, part bound down the stairs flapping his wings and gobbled.
Willamina’s eyes grew large. “Do you mean it, Tom? Because I feel the same way!”
Tom showed Willamina a modest, but beautiful, engagement ring. He got on one knee and gobbled.
“Yes! Oh Yes! Of Course I’ll marry you!” Willamina and Tom hugged and kissed and the room exploded in cheers, applause, and joyful tears. Even the crowd of pale Willamina children were cheering and crying, I think, or something. Their mouths were open wide and something was definitely oozing from their black, unblinking eyes.