My mother rushed out of the old farmhouse to hug us.

"Billie!" she exclaimed while pulling me into a back-breaking hug. "Luke!"

"Hi, Mom," I said weakly as Luke struggled for breath. "I'm so glad we could make it for Thanksgiving. We haven't seen you for so long!"

Luke shot me a look as if saying 'and thats probably why we aren't in the hospital right now!' I grinned evilly back at him; he's stuck here for the week, no excuses this time.

My mother grabbed our hands and dragged us bodily through the screen door to greet my father. He said hello and shook Luke's hand, then gave me a small hug. Dad never was much of a social person. Luke looked relieved that my father didn't bend his back out of shape too, though slightly put out that he did not qualify for a hug as son-in-law.

My mother was still gabbing on about how things had been going for them, and asking us questions about our lives, and I was answering automatically about how my job was going, and what interesting places we had gone to etc.

While I satisfied my mother's curiosity, I looked around at the decorations; they had really spent a lot of time on them. There were streamers and pictures of turkeys, and little clay figurines of Pilgrims and Indians eating together, and much more.

"You guys did a good job at decorating this year," I commented. My eyes fell on a small wooden turkey that had been carved to make a candy bowl. It had Crunch bars in it: my favorite.

Mom immediately switched from talking about a dog she had met the other day, and latched on to the topic. "Oh yes, we did it all especially for you!" She beamed. "We even killed the pig for dinner, as its such a special occasion."

My mind suddenly went blank. I had a hard time understanding what she just said. "You- you what?"

She looked at me quizzically. "We're serving the pig for dinner, Billie."

It finally clicked in my head.