One holiday that hadn't been changed by the problem was Thanksgiving. Families still gathered and feasted on a turkey dinner, celebrating the harvest.
Portland Row was no different. Fall decorations adorned almost all of the houses. A wreath, wooden blocks with caricatures of turkeys and scarecrows, banners with sayings like 'Harvest' or 'Thanks' or 'Fall', and the odd hay bale. At number 35 there were a couple of pumpkins sitting by the door and fallen leaves had been strung together and wrapped around the iron fence.
Inside the house, five people sat around a table. A table laden with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, gravy, rolls, and cornbread. An array of pies were set out on the counter.
This was their first Thanksgiving with Kipps and Holly. There hadn't been time to celebrate last year. The Chelsea Outbreak had taken all of their time. And Kipps was a recent addition.
"Do you have any traditions?" Holly asked. Thanksgiving had never been a big event for them. Around this time there was always an uptick in cases. So they threw together a miniature feast of chicken, rolls, and mashed potatoes. Before immediately having to head out again.
"We haven't exactly had the time to make traditions," Lockwood said.
Holly looked somewhat surprised. "Oh, well, my family would always say what we were thankful for before we ate."
"That doesn't sound too bad," George said and then he suggested. "Lockwood, why don't you start and then we can go clockwise around the table."
It wasn't lost on them that he had basically made himself go last.
"I'm grateful for George's mom making us dinner," Lockwood stated. "...And for the support you've given me these past few years. I was… in a dark time still… and you guys helped me out of it."
Lucy reached across the space between them, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it.
"I'm grateful that the fiasco with Fittes is done and that we all-," Lucy glanced at the skull, brown and still on the table. "-most of us made it out alive."
"I'm grateful for the amazing friends I've made here," Holly said. "I didn't think I'd be able to find this level of friendship."
"I'm grateful for the opportunity you guys gave me. To find my sense of purpose again." Kipps said. His head was down watching his hands flitter together.
George looked around the table taking in all of their expectant faces. "I'm grateful for the growth we've made as a team. I don't think we would have accomplished half as much if we were still the same as when we tackled Comb Carey."
There was a moment of silence.
Lockwood's cheerful voice broke it.
"Well, that was more profound than I was expecting."
The table was hit with quiet chuckles.
"Shall we start then?" George asked hopefully. "I'm starving."
Lucy snorted. "When are you not starving?"
"I'm a growing boy."
Lockwood cut in before it could get any more out of control. "Lucy, why don't you start?"
"I think that's an excellent idea."
Slowly the food was passed around.
Holly looked around confused.
"Did we forget to cut the turkey?"
"Oh, yeah. I was going to do that." Lockwood started to push his chair out.
The window by the sink shattered. Glass and a person flew into the kitchen.
The person rolled as they hit the ground, stood up quickly, snatched the turkey off the table, and jumped back out the window.
Everyone sat staring at the table.
"Did that just happen?" Kipps asked.
"I think Flo just stole our turkey." Lockwood turned toward George. "When you see her next George, tell her she owes me a new window."
Lucy shrugged. "I don't really like turkey anyway."
A chorus of 'I don't really either' filled the room.
"Well," Skull said. "If this is what Thanksgiving is like, I can't wait to see what she's gonna do with the Christmas ham."
"Skull!?"
Indeed, there was a lot to be thankful for.
Even- especially dramatic skulls who choose the most Extra moment possible to reveal himself as 'not-dead'.