Maggie could hear Sam's voice among the jeers, and she looked around the room, trying to find his face among the sea of testosterone-induced males.

"Hey, where did the rest of the boys go?" one of the uncles shouted out.

"Probably pouting in the basement," another replied. "Hating us, hating football, hating Thanksgiving, hating life. The usual. "

"Hey Sam, did you ever hate us?"

"Nah. Only you, Uncle Pete." The men again erupted in a chorus of jeers.

"Yeah, but who hasn't hated grumpy Uncle Pete at some point? He's the only one who works on Thanksgiving. It makes us lazy asses look bad."

Maggie spotted Sam sitting towards the back of the den between two of his teenager cousins. More...