Sara, not to be absolutely, beautifully, unapologetically, hypocritical at all, actually sits heself down exactly where John's feet were, only seconds after he obeys being removed from that spot. Right on the edge of that table, and its tacky table cloth. Going right about tucking her crystal drink glass between her knees and picking up her fork in her freed hand. "Well, It is today."

"I mean, at least try to come up with a better argument for when Ray comes to drag you into whatever song and games nonsense I'm sure he'd been planning for days now." You can positively smell it on him. Sage and butter and sugar, and too much god damn sunshine for any one too tall man. "Maybe try out the whole fact it's not even near Thanksgiving in any of the last four places in time we stopped this week alone."