Thanksgiving Day

Back in ’04 it had snowed in Truckee on Thanksgiving Day. Andrew looked forward to driving out there for the holiday every year since starting at Berkeley.

“Be careful of that truck in front of us, he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Seth said as they made their way up the mountains.

“It’s only a light snow, don’t worry so much,” Andrew said. “The way you’re talking, it’s a blizzard.”

“Whenever it snows in the Sierras, it’s a blizzard.”

“Quiet down, honey, Be still!”

“You wanted to drive the Z4 out here. Can’t think of a worse car for driving in the snow. What ever possessed you to buy it?”

Seth had clearly forgotten about those sunny days driving across the bridge and up to Napa Valley with the top down.

“Oh, no,” Seth yelled. “That truck is about to slide into a ravine –“

“No, he’s not. Just pipe down. We’ll get there in one piece. I’ve done this drive a thousand times.”

Just then a Jeep Grand Cherokee came barreling past them and the truck up front.

“See,” Andrew said. “That Jeep is driving just fine. And the truck has chains on it.”

“I don’t know. We’re gonners, I’m sure of it. Now I know how the Donner group felt.”

When they reached Truckee an hour later, Andrew’s mother asked them how the drive had been.

“No problem at all,” Seth said. “Couldn’t have been more smooth.”

Andrew laughed and looked at Seth. Never unpredictable. He kissed him on the left cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving, honey. Happy Thanksgiving.”