I really wanted to finish this fic before the premiere…and maybe if we had a few more weeks of hiatus like last year I'd have managed it, but hey, I'm not complaining!


Thanksgiving sucked.

Given Sylvester's history of folding like a house of cards, Paige was both grateful and impressed that he didn't let on to what was bothering her, even when Toby actually incorrectly assumed that she was simply missing Walter. That was certainly part of it. She was, above all else, thankful for her little found family, and the member of Team Scorpion who was most important to her – who she and her son were overwhelmingly thankful for – wasn't here.

This year, she was especially grateful for Sylvester.

But her guilt over the fallout with Linda was hanging over her head, so much that she could barely muster enough energy to appear convinced that she was thrilled to death with the rest of the group's rare enthusiasm for the holiday. She hoped that they all brushed off her unusually subdued attitude toward Thanksgiving as simply missing Walter.

She should have gone after Linda. Or called. Or texted. Heck, even poked her on Facebook, if that was still a thing. Done something to initiate conversation. It had to be Paige who did, because Linda was so horribly awkward, so anxious, and, most importantly, the person who felt hurt.

But, like she had before in situations when a situation could have been avoided by the more socially adjusted one taking a leap, she choked and did nothing. She supposed this was an improvement on how she treated Walter in the months before they got together, since she wasn't blaming Linda for the situation, but it wasn't as if that helped that situation any.

When the festivities broke up, Paige took Ralph's hand and walked out to the car. She was glad that Ralph allowed that. She knew he was getting to the age when he would stop wanting contact like that, and she never called attention to it when he pulled his hand away, but tonight he seemed to sense that she needed it.

This year, she was especially thankful for her son.

"Did you enjoy that meal?" She asked him as the car pulled out onto the road.

"Yes," Ralph said. "The stuffing was really good."

The stuffing. The stuffing that Paige had made last minute because Linda's plan for vegetarian stuffing hadn't happened. Paige knew her son was aware that she'd made it on a time crunch, but he didn't know why. He was trying to cheer her up. It wasn't his fault that it wasn't working.

"I'm glad," she said. "So what do you want to bet that Toby throws up tonight given all that cranberry sauce he ate?"

"One thousand dollars."

"Okay," Paige said, "I wasn't actually…how about ten dollars?"

"I say ten dollars he pukes. And double it if he says he didn't but Happy confirms he did."

"You're going to put me in the poor house, kid," Paige joked. "Fine. Ten, and double."

"Cool."

In the rearview mirror, Paige saw him put his headphones on, and so she turned the radio up just enough to make out what song was playing. Thankfully, the default station didn't have anything overly related to her current feelings.

Peering back in the rearview mirror as she turned onto their road, Paige saw Ralph's eyes closed, his head against the back of the seat. She wasn't sure if he was asleep or if he was just immersing himself in whatever song or lecture he was listening to, but she felt a pang of envy at his tranquility. She had no idea what she really wanted or needed to say, but she wanted to talk.

She wanted to talk to Linda.

She wanted to talk to Walter.

She really, really wanted to talk to her father.

Hell, she wanted to talk to her mother.

Her phone chimed as she woke Ralph up, and she looked down at the display before they headed for the door. It was Walter. Paige put the phone back in her pocket. If it had been Linda, she would have stopped, made an excuse, and read it right then and there. Linda didn't deserve to be left hanging for even a minute right now. But Walter wouldn't know if she was free to answer. He wouldn't be nervous or stressing if she didn't respond for a few.

"Are we going to watch a movie or go to bed?" Ralph asked. Sometimes after a Thanksgiving dinner they watched a Christmas movie to kick off that season. But, Paige reasoned, they didn't do it every year, which meant it wasn't a tradition. And one couldn't break a tradition that didn't exist.

"Why don't we go to bed?" Paige suggested. "I know I'm tired, and you look like you are, too."

"I am, a little bit. Mom?"

Paige sighed. "Yeah, honey?"

Ralph cocked his head. "Is everything okay?"

Paige wanted to feed him a lie. But he was too old, too smart to fall for that. "No, Ralph. I have a lot on my mind right now. But it will be okay, I hope."

Ralph bit his lip. "Is it Walter?"

Paige walked toward him, shaking her head. She pulled him into a hug. "No, honey. It's not Walter. He's fine."

Ralph hugged her back, then stepped back and nodded. "Good. Good night, Mom."

Paige watched him head to his room, hoping that she hadn't inadvertently lied to him. What if something had happened to Walter and that's what his text was about? She fished her phone out of her pocket.

Happy holiday, Love. Unable to phone tonight. Thankful for you. Immeasurably. Unapologetically. You and Ralph. Love you. Talk tomorrow.

Despite everything else, Paige smiled.