Chapter 18: The Thanksgiving Table
Thanksgiving at the Sterling estate had traditionally been a stiff, quiet affair. Julian would usually hire a private catering company to prepare a flawless, five-course meal, which he and Matteo would eat in silence at opposite ends of the massive dining room table.
This year, the dining room was unrecognizable.
"Okay, I need someone to check the turkey!" Julian yelled playfully from the kitchen, wearing an apron covered in flour. "I think the pop-up timer is lying to me!"
"I've got it!" Matteo yelled back, scrambling off the couch where he had been watching the football game.
The house was incredibly loud, filled with a chaotic, vibrant energy that bounced off the marble floors. They hadn't hired a catering company. Instead, Julian and Matteo had spent the entire morning cooking, following recipes Julian had frantically Googled the night before.
But the biggest change wasn't the food; it was the guest list.
Sitting in the living room, laughing uproariously at the football game, were Elena’s three older brothers. When Julian discovered that Elena’s family usually worked through the holidays in various service industry jobs, he had flatly refused to let her work Thanksgiving. Instead, he invited her entire family to the estate as guests.
Elena walked into the kitchen, wearing a beautiful burgundy sweater, carrying a bowl of homemade cranberry sauce. "Mr. Sterling, you are going to give yourself a heart attack staring at that oven."
"Elena, please, it's Julian," he insisted, wiping his forehead with the back of his wrist. "And this bird is intimidating. It's twenty-two pounds. It feels like a high-stakes negotiation."
Elena laughed, nudging him aside and peering through the oven glass. "It looks perfect, Julian. Stop stressing."
An hour later, the massive dining table was covered in an assortment of mismatched platters. There was Julian’s slightly dry but highly praised turkey, Matteo’s lopsided pumpkin pie, and mountains of side dishes Elena’s brothers had brought from their own family recipes.
Julian sat at the head of the table, looking down the length of the wood. Matteo was sandwiched between two of Elena’s towering brothers, eagerly explaining the defensive strategies of the cardboard castle he had built in the media room. Elena was seated to Julian’s right, her eyes bright with happiness.
Julian tapped his knife gently against his water glass. The boisterous chatter slowly quieted down, and everyone turned to look at him.
"I've never been very good at toasts," Julian began, his voice thick with sudden emotion. He looked at Matteo, whose face was glowing with pure, unadulterated joy. "For a long time, I thought this house was just... too big for us. I thought the quiet was something we just had to live with."
He turned to look at Elena, offering her a smile of profound gratitude. "But I learned this year that you don't fix an empty house by ignoring it. You fix it by filling it with good people. So, thank you. To all of you. For being here, and for helping us make this place a home again."
"To family," Elena’s oldest brother boomed, raising his glass of cider.
May you like
"To family," the table echoed in unison.
Matteo raised his glass high, clinking it against his father’s, before loudly declaring that he was ready for a turkey leg.
