It smells insane. My stomach has been growling for ten straight minutes.
Caroline sits beside me, her knee pressed lightly against mine under the table. Her hand rests on my thigh, thumb tracing lazy circles like she's doing it without even noticing.
Across from us sit my mom and Sam, and at each end of the long table are Caroline's parents—Franklin at the head, Esther at the foot—watching over everything with warm, content smiles.
Caroline's dad is smiling as he lifts his wine glass just slightly.
"Well," he says, eyes moving around the table, "before we dig in, I want to start by saying thank you. Thank you all for coming and celebrating Thanksgiving with us. Our families have been friends for decades, and it means a lot having you here today. You've been a part of our lives for so long that I don't even think of you as 'family friends' anymore. You're just... family."
Mom smiles at that, nodding gently. "We feel the same way," she says softly.
He nods, clears his throat, and his expression warms.
"Well, I guess I should say what I'm thankful for this year."
He takes his wife's hand, thumb brushing her knuckles.
"First... I'm thankful for the gift of life. After the accident... we weren't sure we'd be sitting here like this."
He turns to her, voice dipping. "But we are."
Caroline's mom smiles back at him—quiet, steady, full of love—and squeezes his hand.
"And," he adds, looking toward Caroline, "I'm grateful that our little princess is finally back home. We missed you more than you'll ever know."
Caroline's cheeks tint pink as she laughs. "I'm happy to be back too, Daddy. With you and Mom."
Everyone lifts their glasses. Soft clinks echo around the table.
The rest of us take turns after that—nothing rigid or formal, just easy threads of gratitude overlapping with laughter, teasing, stories.
Esther smiles warmly and says she's thankful for"healing, progress... and a certain boy who's been making her daughter very happy lately."
She shoots a pointed look at me and Caroline.
I take Caroline's hand and kiss the back of it, and both moms giggle like teenagers.
Caroline nudges me with her shoulder, smiling into her glass. "Well? Anything you're thankful for?"
"Yeah," I murmur, grinning at her.
Everyone looks in my direction, so I clear my throat, suddenly aware I have an audience.
"I'm thankful for health," I say, "This year... that means more to me than I can explain." My eyes flick to Sam. She gives me a small, half-smile.
Then I look at Mom.
"And I'm thankful for my family. For the people who keep me grounded, keep me sane, keep me going—even on the hardest days."
Finally, I turn to Caroline and brush my fingers along her cheek. "And I'm thankful that my best friend is back in my life. That I get to make up for every day we lost."
Her eyes soften, and she threads her fingers through mine under the table.
Mom goes next, smiling at the Pennington's.
"I want to thank you both," she says softly, her voice full but steady. "For welcoming us into your home today... and honestly, for so many years of friendship. You've been there for us more times than I can count."
Caroline's mom reaches over and squeezes her hand gently.
