CHAPTER 7
Soon, the time of Thanksgiving rolled around. Thanksgiving in New York is a wonderful time. It is a time for giving of yourself, for thinking of your fellow man. A time when the unforgiving city becomes a little kinder.
"Well, I just ralphed." Quinn remarked, walking out of the bathroom, her face slightly queasy. Finn and Santana, who were sitting on the sofa, raised an eyebrow.
"How much did you guys drink last night?" Santana remarked.
"Not how much… what?" Finn replied.
12 hours ago…
"A Thankstini." Puck exclaimed, handing Sam, Finn and Quinn each a blood-red glass. "A fun and delicious new novelty drink I invented. Cranberry juice, potato vodka and a bouillon cube. Tastes just like a turkey dinner. Sam hesitantly took a sip and he smiled widely.
"Mm, it's like Thanksgiving in my mouth!" He exclaimed.
Back to the present…
"You want a good holiday drink? Try his Kwanzaapolitan." Finn remarked. Suddenly, the horn of a car rang through the air and Sam rushing out of his bedroom and peered out the window.
"The shuttle's here!" He shouted, running back into the room and grabbing his suitcase.
"He hasn't been back home to Minnesota since Christmas. He's a little excited." Quinn explained. Sam came running back into the living room, clutching two bags in his hands.
"Babe, we're holding up the shuttle! Do you have everything you need… toothbrush, pajamas, underpants? Underpants!" He yelled in shock, running back into his room. Once he was gone, Finn turned to Quinn.
"So, Q… Sam's family. A whole weekend with the future in-laws. You excited?"
"Yeah, no, it'll be fun." She said, cheerfully. Santana raised an eyebrow.
"Quinn, you just said yeah, no." Santana remarked.
"Did I? No. I-I love Sam's family. But yeah, no, it'll be great."
"You just did it again." Finn laughed.
"Yeah, no shut up!" Quinn snapped. Santana then turned to Finn.
"So, you're not going home for Thanksgiving?" Santana asked. Although Finn was raised in New York, he was originally from Lima, Ohio and had a couple of relatives there. Finn shook his head.
"No, I have an audition for an extra in a musical." Finn replied. "You?"
"I'm Canadian, remember? We celebrate Thanksgiving in October."
"Oh, right, I forgot. You guys are weird. You pronounce the word out as 'oat'" Finn smirked. Santana rolled her eyes.
"You guys are the world's leader in handgun violence, your healthcare system is bankrupt and your country is deeply divided on almost every important issue."
"Your cops are called mounties." Finn giggled.
"So probably hanging out with Puck then?" Santana asked. Finn shook his head furiously.
"No! Puck's got his own Thanksgiving tradition: Thanksgiving in a strip club. Using his words, apparently The Lusty Leopard has a surprisingly good Thanksgiving buffet. Plus they do this thing: Heather dresses up as a pilgrim, and Misty dresses up as an Indian, and they 'share a meal together'. I think I'm gonna go to a homeless shelter, serve food."
"That's awesome!" Santana exclaimed.
"Yeah, I thought I'd just spend the day giving back, you know? Doing some good."
"Canceling out Puck." Santana laughed.
"Exactly!" Finn laughed. Suddenly, Sam came rushing out of the room once more.
"Where are all my underpants?!" He cried.
"Did you check your suitcase?" Quinn asked. Sam ripped open the bag, found what he was looking for and sprinted out the door behind Quinn. And they went… all the way to St. Cloud, Minnesota, Sam's hometown. And as Quinn stepped into her fiance's boyhood home, she received a big welcome. Literally.
"Hello, we're home!" Sam shouted as he walked inside. Suddenly, seven giants - Sam's parents, brothers and sisters - walked into the room and hugged them. See, at 6'4, Sam was the runt of the Evans clan and 5'4 Quinn was like an ant to them.
"Wow, I forgot how tall you guys are!" Quinn remarked.
"Where's my almost daughter-in-law?!" Sam's cheerful father exclaimed.
"Here I am!" Quinn replied, completely covered by Sam's massive family and waving a single hand over the fray. She managed to make it out the circle of giants and hugged Sam's dad.
"Oh, you got yourself a great little bride here, son." Marvin Evans said, lightly patting Quinn on the back but sending her flying. He then walked over to his son.
"All right, son! No fartin' around! Put your skates and your pads on, boys!" He yelled. "Game on in 5!"
"Oh, you're gonna play hockey?" Quinn asked. Suddenly, Marvin passed Sam a basketball. "With a basketball?"
"Well, it's sort of a combination of the two. We called it bask-ice-ball. We invented it." Sam explained. "It's the most dangerous and awesome sport in the world."
"Bask-ice-ball? Not ice-ketball?" Quinn remarked.
"Ice-ketball? That just sounds weird." Marvin laughed.
"Yeah, it's bask-ice-ball, okay? And I'm the best." Sam's brother, Marcus, said.
"Well, maybe that's just 'cause you haven't seen me play." Quinn challenged him.
"I don't know, honey. It's not really a sport for a girl." Sam said. Quinn raised an eyebrow.
"Well, that's funny, because your brother throws like a girl." Quinn responded. Marcus then tossed the ball to Quinn but, due her diminutive frame, she was sent flying backwards and onto the floor.
"Marcus!" Sam's mom, Judy, yelled. Marcus blushed.
"Sorry." He mumbled.
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That night, Finn and Santana lined up in a homeless shelter, ready to help volunteer with the preparation of Thanksgiving dinner for the homeless.
"This is gonna be great." Santana smiled as she looked around.
"I know. I'm so psyched that we did this!" Finn exclaimed. "Look at all these people, giving up their Thanksgiving to help their fellow man. These have got to be the best people in New York."
At that very moment, the doors to the kitchen swung open and Puck walked out, dressed in a Helping Hands t-shirt. Santana and Finn's eyes widened.
"P-P-Puck?" Finn stammered.
"Well, hi guys." He smiled
"What are you doing here?" Finn asked.
"Oh, just the Lord's work." Puck replied.
"But… you're Satan." Santana murmured, also in shock.
"Guys, okay, look, I don't advertise it, but I volunteer here. I think it's important to help the less fortunate. I'm the Angelina Jolie of incredibly hot guys."
"This is a joke, right? You don't actually volunteer here." Santana stated. Just then, a man, presumably the head of the volunteering foundation because he was wearing a headset, ran into the pantry, where they were standing.
"Puck, we need you out front. There is a logjam on the stuffing line. Can you show them how it's done?"
"I'm on it." Puck replied.
"Wait, so this is real? Puck does this?" Finn asked the head of the foundation.
"Every Sunday, all year long. He's our best volunteer." The man replied.
"That's because I was trained by the best, Kendall." Puck winked and walked away.
"Anyway, we're psyched to be here, Kendall. What do you need us to do?"
"Uh… go home. We're full." Kendall replied. Finn and Santana raised their eyebrow.
"What? We're volunteers. We're unpaid help. Can you ever really have enough unpaid help?" Finn asked.
"On the biggest volunteer day of the year? Yeah, you can." Kendall replied.
"Come on, we just want to help out." Santana pleaded. Puck walked over to them at that point.
"Kendall, they're cool." Puck said. Kendall nodded and turned to them.
"Fine, but I'm not promising anything. Wait here. We'll let you know if we need you." Kendall replied.
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That afternoon, while the men in Sam's family played Bask-ice-ball, Quinn and Sam's two brothers' wives stood in the kitchen, cooking dinner.
"Oh, I almost forgot something!" Judy, Sam's mom, exclaimed, grabbing something from the cupboard. "I know it's early, but… you are a future Mrs. Evans." She said, handing Quinn a lilac apron, identical to the ones that Sam's brothers' wives were wearing, with the word Mrs. Evans stitched on the front. It looked, quite frankly, pretty hideous but luckily, Quinn was a very polite person.
"Thank you! Well, it'll go great with my, uh… I just love it." She said.
"Okay, Quinn, we're putting you on salad duty." Judy said.
"Oh, I make this great frisee and endive salad with a coriander-lime vinaigrette." She stated.
"But… this is an American holiday." Sheryl, Sam's oldest brother's wife, said.
"Now that you're going to be a Mrs. Evans, I'm going to let you in on a secret recipe." Judy said. "The Evans family seven-layer salad!"
"Seven-layer salad?" Quinn asked, nervously. Judy handed her a recipe and Quinn's eyes widened.
"Six cups of mayonnaise? That can't be right." She remarked.
"Oh, no, dear. Sixteen cups." Judy replied. Just then, Sam limped into the room.
"Oh my god. There is some serious bask-ice-ball going on out there. Dad totally nailed Marcus in the face with a snowball, which is a foul, because you only get one snowball per possession so I nailed him in the shin with my skate and I totally dunked it!"
"Yeah, you were sitting pretty till I whacked you with that mallet." Marvin said.
"You having fun?" Sam asked Quinn.
"Yeah." Quinn lied. "But… I kind of miss you. Could you stay in here for a little bit?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, no problem. It's halftime."
"Oh, halftime's over! Get your butts out here! Come on! And I hope you like the taste of skate, son!" Marvin exclaimed. Sam turned to Quinn.
"Go." She said. Sam smiled widely.
"Thanks, baby. Aw, isn't this great? Can't you see why everyone from my high school stays in this town?"
With that, Sam raced out the door and Quinn grabbed the vat of mayonnaise. She then proceeded to scoop out 16 cups, somehow managing to prevent the retches that were rising up her throat.
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"Man, it's amazing out there." Puck stated, walking into the pantry from the cafeteria where the homeless people were eating. "I've done so much good today, I've got like a soul boner. Man, the way the faces of the less fortunate light up when you give them a hot, nutritious meal. Is there a better feeling on Earth?"
"Yesterday, you said the best feeling on Earth was getting your toes sucked. And then you requested a high five. With your foot." Santana remarked.
"Hey Puck, what do you say you let us sub in for you, scoop scuffing for a little bit?" Finn asked. Puck scoffed.
"You want to scoop stuffing on your first day out? Hey New York Giants, can I be quarterback this Sunday? Dude."
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"Okay, I finished the gummy bear layer of the… salad." Quinn mumbled. "What's next?"
She checked the list and sighed.
"Cheetos. Of course."
"So Quinn, when are you gonna start thinking about having a baby?" Judy asked.
"Baby? Uh, you know, I hadn't really thought about it." Quinn stammered. That was a lie. It was all she had been thinking about. You see, remember when she said 'I just ralphed' that morning, at that point, she was 5 days late. This was day six. "Yeah, I mean, I'm way too young to have a baby, right?" She asked.
"Oh, are you kidding? I was younger than you when I had Marcus. Beautiful 15 pound boy. Not much bigger than this turkey right here. Quinn's eyes widened. That turkey suddenly looked so much bigger to her and she imagined pushing out a baby that size. It was not a pretty thought.
Now, if Quinn was already uneasy about joining the Evans family, imagine how she felt about possibly having a 15-pound Evans growing inside of her.
"That's a big baby, Judy." She stammered.
"The doctor thought he was twins." She smiled. Quinn laughed weakly.
"Twins!" She mumbled to herself, terrified. Twins!