Thanksgiving

It had turned out to be a particularly wet and dreary November. But, as gloomy as the weather became, the Simpsons' spirits were high. 'Damnation of a Nation' was an unprecedented success, registering in the top ten album sales for four weeks, and reaching number one by Halloween week. Online downloads of the individual songs, the most popular being 'Dead Man's Party', followed closely by an online exclusive track 'Billion Dollar Babies'. All in all, the album was a success, and they considered trying to capitalize on its success with a re-hashing the next year.

Considering what had been happening the previous October, and that they had been recovering in hospital last November, things were fairly peaceful. Brian and Lisa continued planning and scheming about their marriage. Lisa almost regretted telling everyone about their engagement the day that he proposed, as she had nothing to look forward to until February. Yet her schedule was far from empty. She had an album to record with Brian for their jazz side-project, and songs to write for the Springfield Nine's next two albums, due out in mid-January and late-March. She there were also the matters of Thanksgiving, Brian's Birthday, Christmas, and New Years, and all that those ever-hectic holidays entailed. The wedding, though still a few months away, needed planning. Lisa decided that she wanted a small wedding, nothing nearly as extravagant as Bart and Jessica's, just family and friends, no press, and a simple reception at the family home. Lisa decided that it would be best if it weren't catered: her mother was used to preparing large amounts of food, and would be all too happy to prepare enough for thirty or so guests.

And then, there was the matter of Millhouse. Though her family had suggested getting a restraining order, Bart suggested giving him 'some face time with Mr. Fist', and Martin Prince said that it would be proper for Brian to challenge Millhouse to an honour duel, she and Brian had decided it would be best to let him be. The poor man was on the edge, so to speak, and anything drastic would push him over the brink of madness. It wasn't his fault that he was neither very strong, very smart, or very good-looking, that his parents hated each other, or that he had been sacked. Yet nothing justified his constant late-night phone calls, his burning his name on Brian's lawn, and his obscene letters written in red lipstick. Brian reasoned that he deserved fair warning, and if he caused any trouble, they would be justified in defending themselves. Still, Lisa was troubled. She felt sorry for Millhouse, that is, until she thought of his stalkerish obsession with her, and how he tried to…either kill her or attack her or…rape her in the hospital restroom. Poor, sad, pitiful little man!

As the month rolled along, Brian asked Lisa something he had been planning to ask her for some time.

"Lisa…?"

"Yes?"

"Lisa, I've known your family for some time now, and I've gotten to know them quite well. You know me, romantic I am, I've always felt it important that a man have the approval of a woman's family, especially her parents and especially her father. But you haven't met my family yet. And as they're just staying home this Thanksgiving, I thought it would be nice if you could meet them for Thanksgiving dinner."

Lisa smiled, but it was a smile that other thoughts tugged down at the corners. She had wanted to have Thanksgiving with her family. It was Bart and Jessica's first Thanksgiving as a married couple. And the previous year's had been dampened by the fact that they had all just barely escaped death at the hands of the unholy UnDead. It'd be nice to have a quiet, normal…wait…since when is anything at the Simpson house quiet or normal?

"Sure. It'd be nice to meet your family. They live in state, right?"

"Yeah, about a two-hour drive away."

"Okay."

Lisa later told her family.

"But Lisa! Thanksgiving is for family!"

"But Brian's like a part of our family, and thus, so is his family!"

"Hrrrmmm…Its just that we've always had Thanksgiving together. I don't want to break with tradition."

"Mom, its important to Brian that I get to know his family, and if its important to him, then its important to me."

Marge smiled.

"Oh, okay."

"Don't worry, I'll be here for Christmas and New Year's."

"Damn well better," Homer growled, "I need someone to talk to. Eric doesn't talk much, Maggie spends all her time sulking, Grandpa doesn't make any sense, Bart and Jessica are only interested in each other, and you can just forget even trying to talk to any of Marge's family!"

"What about me?" asked Marge.

"But I talk to you all the time! If I wanted to talk to you I'd take you out to dinner by ourselves!"

"Then why don't you?"

"Fine!…D'oh!"

"Gilded Truffle, tonight," Marge said victoriously, kissing him on the cheek as she walked out of the room, "And you have to get a baby sitter."

"Grr…"

Brian and Lisa left after breakfast on the day before Thanksgiving. Brian's parents lived in Springton, a small town out in the country. The drive took four hours, due in part to meal and bathroom stops. They arrived late in the afternoon.

Lisa was pleased by the sight of Springton. It had the feel of a typical rural, 1950's village. She noted the population as they crossed the city limit: 15,371. She took in the broad, tree-lined streets, the small shops and stores, and the outdated automobiles. The air had the glow of a dusty old house at sunset as the golden-red rays of the dieing sun illuminated the brick and timber town.

The businesses grew fewer, the houses larger, older, and more dispersed. Here and there, Lisa saw where nature was struggling to reclaim land. The grass grew tall and wild, and the trees taller and more numerous. She rolled down her window, and sniffed the brisk air. Birch…pine…running water…She became aware of how low the sun was on the horizon. Brian noticed as well, and instinctively reached for the rear view mirror, pulling down the rosary he had wrapped around it, letting the crucifix hang down.

As the sun passed below the horizon, they arrived at the Callahan homestead. It was an old farmhouse, built in the late forties between the wars. Lisa noted the rows of orange trees, their branches heavy with plump fruits.

"Orange farmers."

Lisa smirked.

"So that's why you picked that old house out in the orange groves."

A screen door slammed. Lisa saw what looked a like a Hobbit come stomping out from the house, arms spread wide. As he grew nearer, Lisa recognized the strange creature as Brian's brother Ben, who suffered from Down Syndrome. He was a short, round little man, his face round and pudgy, his eyes sleepy. His bare feet flapped about, slapping the ground flatly. He smiled joyously.

"Bwian!" he called, his dull voice filled with joy.

"Benny!" Brian laughed, opening his arms and hugging his little brother. After a long hug, Brian pulled back and gestured toward Lisa. "Benny, this is Lisa, my friend."

"Hi," said Lisa, waving nervously. She didn't know quite how to react to this strange little person. She felt strange, a combination of revulsion, pity, curiosity, and awe. Ben buried his face in his brother's shoulder, closing his eyes. He opened one only slightly, looking at Lisa.

"He's a little shy. C'mon, Ben, this is Lisa, my friend, she's wanted to meet you for a along time!"

Ben opened both eyes and looked at Lisa, blinking dramatically. He pulled away from Brian and held his arms out at Lisa. Brian urged her to hug him using one of the signing languages they knew. Lisa hugged him, reluctantly at first, but then grew comfortable.

"Aww…" Ben said, swaying back and forth in the embrace. They pulled apart. Ben looked up at Lisa, his sleepy eyes taking her features in. "Girl…" he said plainly.

"Yeah, I'm a girl," Lisa replied without sarcasm. Ben reached up and felt her spiky hair.

"Ow, that hurts!" he cried, pulling back his hand and cradling it.

"Oh! I'm sorry-!"

"Ow! Don't, Ben!" Ben yelled at no one. Lisa looked to Brian. With a twitching of his fingers, he explained in sign how Ben said that often because he had heard it so often in his life. She nodded.

The screen door slammed again. A man and a woman, both in their early sixties, were coming from the house. Seeing them, Ben rushed back and into the house. The man looked at his wife, nodded, and followed Ben back in. The old woman came up.

"Oh, Brian! Its so good to see you again!" she said, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Hi, Ma," he said, kissing her on her cheek, "Ma, this is Lisa Simpson, Lisa, this is me Ma."

"Hi, Mrs. Callahan."

"Oh, call me 'June'. Its nice to finally see you Lisa. Brian's told me a lot about you."

"Thanks…June." said Lisa. She noticed her eyes widen, and saw that she was looking at her engagement ring. "Oh, do you like it?"

"Its beautiful…" she said, her voice carrying awe, envy, and disapproval. Lisa maintained her smile. "So, come inside, we'll figure out where we'll go for dinner.

Inside, they found Ben sitting in front of the television, watching The Wiggles. Brian's father, a man in his fifties, sat on the couch. He had thinning grey hair and a bushy white moustache. Seeing them return from outside, he stood.

"Brian!" he laughed, taking his son in a tight hug and rocking him back and forth. "And you must be Lisa."

"Hi," she said, a touch intimidated by his gregariousness. He promptly pulled her into a hug. She noticed it was a lot less enthusiastic, and he broke it off almost immediately, feeling her discomfort.

"Well, I guess you must be tired and hungry. Don, what's the plan for dinner?"

"EEEEEEAi-UP" Ben yelled. He held up one hand and counted the nights coming events off on his fingers. "Eat! Noonoos!"

"What did he say?"

"'Noonoos'," Brian explained, "It means 'noodles', or 'pasta'. Benny's very picky, and his severe food allergies make finding food for him even more difficult. Well, is Rosa's still open?"

"Yes, very much so."

"But not tonight. It's Monday, they're closed on Mondays."

"Tokyo Bowl? I mean, I liked it, Ben still likes it, right? Chinese noonoos?"

"Yeah!" Ben laughed enthusiastically, rubbing his hands together and drooling slightly.

"Brian, you know I never liked that place!"

"Mom, you just ordered wrong, once, fifteen bloody years ago!"

"It got a '95' on the last Health Inspection! They've never had above a '97'!"

"Junie, please, Rosa's gets '97's and '96's all the time!"

"But never a '92'!

"Ma, that was back in '92! Get with the program!"

"Besides, aren't you vegetarian?" Brian's dad asked Lisa.

"We both are." Brian answered promptly. Lisa looked at him in surprise. She noticed that his family was doing the same, except for Ben, who was staring blithely into space, humming slightly.

"Since when?" Brian's dad asked, "You used to tear into every thing that had meat in it! At barbecues you'd eat three burgers! You never touched a salad in your life."

"Well, its give and take, you know, Dad. I mean, she embraced my Catholicism and rabid conservatism, and I embraced her fierce environmentalism and humourless vegetarianism."

"Hmm…"

"If vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat?" June asked.

They all stared at her in shocked disgust.

"Callahan humour. You'll grow numb to it eventually."

"Well, I've been pretending to laugh at you for more than a year, haven't I?"