A/N It's Thanksgiving and I really wanted to write this. Mainly because Dobie could always use some more fanfiction but also just for fun. I hope you enjoy and please review! Thank you.

The kitchen was filled with the smells of food cooking- turkey, and rich steamy gravy. Winnie Gillis bustled around, her apron splattered with food, as she singlehandedly cooked a meal for her family. Usually, Thanksgiving was a large gathering for the Gillises, with Winnie's mother and sister Gladys coming to visit, as well as Herbert's brother and little nephew Dunky, but this year, no one could make it. It had been snowing heavily for days, and in late November, it already felt like winter. The roadways in Central City were blocked with icy snow, and days ago, Winnie had resigned herself to the reality that this year would be a small gathering. It felt unnatural, however, to make a small meal on Thanksgiving, so the counters were piled with all sorts of traditional foods. Stuffing, cranberries, and gravy boats filled to the rim. The turkey was in the oven, nearly finished cooking, as the holiday dinner was scheduled to start later that day. Only one thing remained. In order to recruit help, she pushed open the kitchen door, looking into the living room.

The aroma wafted out of the open door to the living room, where Herbert T. Gillis was reclining in an armchair, with the TV turned on. Dobie was lounging on the couch, his arms folded behind his head. Cigarette and car commercials dominated the screen, but then the program came back on- the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade in New York City. "Boys," Winnie called from the doorway. "Could you give me a hand in here?"

"Go on, boy," Herbert said, gesturing to his son. "Go help your mother."

Dobie got up to his feet, walking towards the kitchen, when his mother said, "You too, Herbert."

He craned his neck to look back at her. "Oh, but Winnie!" Mrs. Gillis was very used to her husband's outbursts, so she listened calmly. "You know I can't cook! I'm too clumsy and I'm just useless in a kitchen!"

"Yes, dear."

"Don't agree so fast!" Herbert accused. "I can't tell a whisk from a spatula! I'm just too clumsy and inept and a complete slob."

"You rang?" The call came from outside the door. While Mr. and Mrs. Gillis looked to the door with surprise, Dobie declared, "Maynard!" But he was also as confused as his parents. He went to the door and pulled it open, to see Maynard standing there, hats jammed over his hair and countless jackets fastened onto his thin frame. His boots left wet footprints tracked down the hall, and snow dripped from his coats.

"Hi, good buddy. Like hi, Mr. G, Mrs. G," Maynard greeted, taking off his hats- Dobie counted at least four- and holding them in his hands. He was about to ask his friend why he was here and how he had even made it through the snow, but his father interrupted him.

"Just a minute, just a darn minute! Maynard, what is the meaning of this? Are you a nut or something? Coming here through the wind and the snow- do your folks know you're here? What are they gonna say?" Herbert T. Gillis raged, leaving his wife's side and walking over to the two teens.

"Well, you see, Mr. G, my parents like told me to come over. They said it was tough to be thankful for what they had when I was around," Maynard explained, as he took off his multitude of jackets and handed them to Dobie, who hung them over his outstretched left arm.

"How'd you get in?" Dobie asked, cutting off Mr. Gillis before he started in on another tirade.

"It sure wasn't easy," Maynard started.

"I should hope not," Mr. Gillis mumbled. "That was an expensive lock."

"I remembered when you told me about the key buried in the potted plant outside, Dobe, and so I dug that up," the beatnik recounted. "It was real tough, though, because the dirt was frozen, and the key was buried deep." Taking a step away from Mr. Gillis, he added, "So I had to dig out the whole plant."

"You what?" the man fumed. "The whole plant? Gone?"

Maynard nodded. Winnie stepped in, ever the peacemaker. "That's wonderful. We can plant a poinsettia, just in time for the holiday season. Isn't that wonderful, Herbert?"

"Wonderful, wonderful…" he turned back and sat on the couch. "Just wonderful!"

While Herbert wasn't thrilled with Maynard's arrival, and Dobie was simply confused and surprised, Winnie was happy to have a guest over for Thanksgiving, so it wouldn't just be the three Gillises on such a family oriented holiday. "Maynard, I'm so glad you're here," she said warmly and hugged him. "Once you get your coat- uh, coats- off, come and lend me a hand in the kitchen. You too, Dobie." She walked back to the kitchen, on the way laying a hand on her husband's shoulder. "You're off the hook, for now."

Dobie collected all of Maynard's jackets and hung them by the door. Then the two friends went into the kitchen. "What do you need us to do, mom?"

"I'm going to set you boys to work peeling potatoes," she said, and Maynard nearly jumped out of his skin, squeaking "work?!".

"Peeling potatoes. Got it, mom," Dobie said, laying an arm on his friend's arm to calm him. The two relocated to the counter, peeling potatoes, the skins falling into a large tub. Winnie busied herself with other preparations for the meal. She was pleased to have Maynard over, since it was in the tradition of Thanksgiving, when family members came to visit. Even though she had just last seen Maynard a few days ago, it was nice to have a gathering that extended beyond her husband and son.

With the water set to boil, she returned to the two boys. "How's the work coming?"

"Work?!" With that cry, a half-peeled potato and peeler went flying, landing on the linoleum floor.

She shouldn't have said that. Winnie amended, "How the peeling going?"

"Not too great, mom," Dobie admitted. "Maynard keeps dropping the potatoes and I'm not meant to be a peeler."

"It's probably for the best," his mother said. "How about you boys head into the living room, dear?"

"Yes, let's like go, dear," Maynard agreed, offering his arm to Dobie.

"Maynard…" Dobie trailed off, and the two were practically shoved out of the kitchen.

"Herbert, I'm going to need you after all," she called to her husband.

"Winnie, I can't help you. I don't know the difference between a fried egg and sunny side up!"

"Lucky for you we're dealing with potatoes, not eggs."

"Winnie!"
"Now, Herbert…"

With that tone, he knew that his wife had won. He got up and joined her in the kitchen.

An hour later, the TV was shut off and Winnie was setting the table for dinner with Maynard, who had volunteered to help. She feared that he would trip and send food flying, but no such incident had taken place.

Surprisingly, since she had kicked the boys out of the kitchen, things had gone off without a kitchen. Herbert sure had complained a lot, but he had no trouble peeling the potatoes, and soon Winnie had a bowl full of creamy mashed potatoes.

The table was set, and the four were ready to sit down to their meal. Mr. Gillis pulled out his wife's chair for her, smiling at her. She returned the smile as she sat down. He went around to his own seat, and as he was about to sit, Maynard cleared his throat. "Mr. G, aren't you gonna like pull out my chair too?" he asked. "And Dobe's too?"

"Maynard!" Herbert yelled frustrated, but the boy looked so sincere that he sighed and pulled out his chair for him.

"Thanks, Mr. G," he said happily.

For the sake of being fair, Mr. Gillis pulled out Dobie's chair for him too, and soon everyone was seated. "Maynard, dear, we have a tradition every year where we go around and say what we're thankful for," Winnie explained.

Maynard nodded. "Gee, Mrs. G- ha. Gee, Mrs. G. Did you hear that, good buddy?" the boy giggled.

"Very funny, Maynard. Now what were you trying to say?" Dobie asked.

"That's like the most, Mrs. G," Maynard concluded.

"Thank you, Maynard," she smiled. "Who'd like to go first?"

"I'll go!" Maynard volunteered and stood up. Clearing his throat, he started, "I'm thankful for ice cream sundaes and chocolate covered hamburgers and Charley Wong and Dizzy Gillespie and Thelonious Monk and jazz and bongos and hi-fi sets." He took a deep breath and continued, "And Riff and the dogs in the street that lick my hand and my parents and movies and Zelda Gilroy and Chatsworth and Mr. Pomfritt and the old Endicott Building. But mostly my best buddy Dobie and Mr. and Mrs. G for letting me have this swinging dinner with them. Thank you." He took a deep bow and sat back down.

"That was beautiful, Maynard," Dobie said, patting his friend on the arm while Winnie clapped softly. Herbert smiled proudly.

"Thank you," the beatnik repeated. "Who wants to go next?"

"I think I'll go," Winnie said and got back to her feet. "I am so thankful to have been blessed with such a wonderful family- my loving, hardworking husband and my bright, thoughtful son. I am so lucky to be able to work with my husband everyday. I am thankful that the store is so successful that we are even able to enjoy this meal. I couldn't ask for anything more. And Maynard, I am so glad that you were able to join us this year."

"Your mother's quite a woman," Herbert said to his son, as he clapped.

Dobie nodded, and Winnie curtsied and sat down.

"I'll go now," Dobie said and got to his feet. "I'm grateful for girls who are dreamy, beautiful, round, pink, creamy, and mine."

"Dobie!" his father interrupted sharply. "There's a lady present."

"Excuse me, mom," Dobie said, ducking his head. "I'm also thankful to be able to be with my family and my best friend. I'm grateful that I have two great parents and the most loyal, true blue pal anyone could ask for. I'm thankful that my parents work hard to make sure I have what I need. And even though I don't have a girl of my own, things are the greatest."

"Gee, Dobe, I'm like getting all misty," Maynard said, wiping at his eyes.

"Me, too," Winnie agreed, looking proudly up at her son.

Dobie sat down and Herbert got to his feet. "I guess that just leaves me," he said, and the others looked up at him expectantly. Taking a deep breath, he dove in, "I know I yell and complain a lot, but I have all I need with me right here. I've been lucky to have such an amazing wife who supports me and loves even when I don't deserve it. And I'm lucky to have my son, who might be a bit of an idiot, but he's a good kid. And Maynard… well he can be a pain but he's a sweet kid too, and I'm glad he could be with us. I guess his parents' gain is our gain too. I'm also lucky that the store has done as well as it has, and that Mrs. Kenny's visits are just once a week." Mrs. Gillis chuckled softly at that. "That's, uh, that's all I have to say."

The other three cheered, and Mr. Gillis sat down.

"I'd like to like thank you all again. This has been the best Thanksgiving I've ever been to… and we haven't even started eating yet," Maynard said.

"Thank you so much, Maynard. We're glad to have you," Winnie said.

Herbert and Dobie heartily agreed. "I'm glad you're here good buddy," Dobie said. Then the four dug into their meals, reflecting on each other and all that they were thankful for.