Happy Thanksgiving to the U.S. contingent! I like including Thanksgiving scenes in my books because they’re always so ripe for family tension.

In my book Serpentine Walls, college student Pete Morgan is struggling with the aftermath of his parents splitting up. The following scene takes place on the first Thanksgiving since the divorce, with the absence of their father looming over the proceedings.

“When do we eat?” Nate stuck his finger into the dish of mashed potatoes sitting on the stove.

“Outta there!” Missy cried, slapping at his hand. “Not ’til two.”

“Two? I’m starving, dude!”

“Eat an apple. Or some yogurt,” Mom said, leaning into the oven to baste the turkey. “Have you finished setting the table?”

“Almost.”

“Meaning not at all,” Missy said. “I swear, Nate, you’re such a slug.”

“Jeez, would ya get off my back for once?”

“I’ll do it.” Pete walked out to the dining room, happy to escape the kitchen and his bickering siblings. He could still hear them, though.

“Nate should, the lazy slob!” Missy complained loudly.

“Hey! Stop with the insults!”

“I will when you raise a finger to help out around here.”

“Stop it, both of you!” His mother’s voice was tinged with weariness.

Pete stuck his head into the kitchen and said, “Nate, come here.”

Nate slouched into the dining room, muttering, “She started it.”

“Over here.” Pete yanked open the silverware drawer at the top of the sideboard. “Grab some forks and knives and go to town.” He picked up a stack of plates.

“I mean it.” Nate scowled as he got a handful of silverware. “She’s been on my fucking case all day, man. All week.”

“Yeah.” Pete started to set the table. “So, how’s school?”

“Okay.” Nate slammed the silverware down next to each plate, still looking like a thundercloud.

“Senior year, man,” Pete continued, hoping to divert him from his upset with Missy. “Have you been applying to colleges?”

“Just Nova and Mason.”

“Really? Why not U.Va. or Tech? Your grades should be good enough.”

“Too expensive, now that Mom and Dad—” Nate frowned. “Whatever.”

“What? Fuck, man, that’s just wrong. Dad should be able to pay.”

“He told me not to count on it.”

“Jesus!” Pete bit back the bitter words he wanted to spew about Dad and took a deep breath. “You should apply anyway. What about a basketball scholarship?”

“Not good enough for that. I already tried.”

“Oh. Well, apply to the ones you want to go to, is what I say. We can worry about the money later.”

“Worry about what money?” Missy had come in with a bunch of cloth napkins, and she placed them on the table.

Pete was about to answer when Mom entered carrying some glasses. “Nothing. Forget it.” He took the glasses and asked her, “When are Austin and Rob getting here?”

“Two o’clock. Thanks for setting the table, kids. The food’s under control, so I think I’m going to go lie down for a while.”

The three of them watched as she walked down the hallway to her bedroom and shut the door behind her.

“This is officially the most fucked-up Thanksgiving ever,” Missy said with a scowl.

“Really? What about the time you threw up on Great-aunt Hazel’s shoes?” Pete smirked at her, pulling one of her red curls.

“Or the time Uncle Andy got drunk and smashed Rob’s science project when he fell on top of it?” Nate added.

“True.” Missy quirked a sad smile. “I guess it’s a good thing it’s just us this year.”

“I guess.” Pete thought about Aunt Barb praying over them before they ate, head bowed piously.

“So, what were you guys talking about? What money?”

“For Nate’s college. Have you heard that Dad won’t pay for anything but local?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard. That’s what comes of being the last of five kids. They couldn’t afford for me to go where I wanted either.”

Pete stared at her. “Well, shit, I never knew that. I thought you wanted to go to Mason.”

“No big deal. Like I said, it’s good I went there, given all the crap that’s happened this year.”

“I’m gonna shoot some hoops,” Nate announced and was out of the room before either of them could say a word.

Missy heaved a sigh.

“Want some wine?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go raid Dad’s wine collection.”

“He didn’t take his precious wine along with everything else?” Pete followed Missy into the kitchen, where she opened the door to the walk-in pantry.

“Voila.” She gestured to a wooden holder containing a large number of wine bottles stacked on their sides. “Don’t ask me why he didn’t take ’em. Maybe Mallory doesn’t like wine.”

Pete leaned over and grabbed a few bottles at random, getting a vivid memory of Dad at dinner, making a big production out of opening the wine and instructing them on “bouquet” and “nose” in that booming voice of his. It was fucking weird not having him around.

“What should we have? Red or white?” He inspected the label of the bottle in his right hand. “French Bordeaux, 1996. Wow. Let’s have this.”

“Yeah, okay. It must be good if it’s that old, right?”

Pete was opening the wine when voices drifted in from the living room. A moment later, Rob and his wife, Jennifer, walked in, bearing wrapped bowls of food. “Well, brother Pete! I was beginning to forget what you look like, it’s been so long.”

Stifling a retort about Rob missing the garage sale, Pete inclined his head at him and Jennifer.

“Hey.”

“You guys look fancy,” Missy said.

It was true. Compared to the rest of them, they were dressed up. Rob wore a suit jacket, button-down shirt, and a sharply pressed pair of slacks, while Jennifer had on a nice dress and a fancy sweater with beads on the shoulders that sparkled in the kitchen light as she removed the Saran wrap from the salad bowl.

Maybe they went to church this morning, mused Pete. Did churches even have Thanksgiving Day services? Rob was so zealous about everyone he knew being saved that he probably took every opportunity he could to pray for their salvation.

“Wine? So early?” Rob bent over to get a closer look at the label. “Hey, is this from Dad’s collection?”

“So what if it is?” Pete asked.

“I don’t think Dad would like you drinking his wine.”

Pete narrowed his eyes at Rob, a flash of anger running through him, wondering when he had turned into such a tightass. “I don’t really care what Dad thinks. But you can call him in Puerto Vallarta if you’re so worried about it.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Rob said, flushing red.

“Dad’s the dick—so get off my back.”

“Rob.” Jennifer raised her eyebrows at him, her manicured fingernails tapping the sides of the salad bowl. Everything about her was perfectly in place, her hair curling around her shoulders just so, and Pete got a sudden urge to smash something.

**************

I hope your Thanksgiving or next family gathering is happier than Pete’s!

Until next month,

CJane

After years of hearing characters chatting away in her head, CJane Elliott finally decided to put them on paper and hasn’t looked back since. A psychotherapist by training, CJane enjoys writing sexy, passionate stories that also explore the human psyche. CJane has traveled all over North America for work and her characters are travelers, too, traveling down into their own depths to find what they need to get to the happy ending.

CJane is an ardent supporter of LGBTQ equality and is particularly fond of coming out stories.

CJane is the author of the award-winning Serpentine Series, New Adult contemporary novels set at the University of Virginia. Serpentine Walls was a 2014 Rainbow Awards finalist, Aidan’s Journey was a 2015 EPIC Awards finalist, and Sex, Love, and Videogames won first place in the New Adult category in the 2016 Swirl Awards and first place in Contemporary Fiction in the 2017 EPIC eBook Awards.

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