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Cooper-Jones Home
8:20 AM
24 hours prior to Thanksgiving
Burlap table runners and napkin ties had just been released from their attic home where they hibernated for fifty-one weeks out of the year. Pumpkins of various shapes, colors and sizes decorated the mantle and dining room table, bringing a sense of warmth and festivity when paired with the stuffed cornucopias that were scattered about as well.
Alice had been jittering around all week in preparation for Thanksgiving dinner, wanting to ensure it was a perfect affair. Her relationship with Betty, while still tense, was at least slightly improved. They could at least have a civil conversation without a knock-down-drag-out argument.
An extra folding table had been set with their dinner table, also covered in warm fabrics and holiday knickknacks. With so many changes this past year, it made sense that holiday plans would be changing as well.
With both her father out of jail and her half-sister stirring up trouble, Veronica and had opted to have dinner with the Cooper-Jones clan this year. Mary and Archie would also be joining them; Fred had always cooked dinner and being in the house and seeing the empty kitchen was too much for Archie to bare this year.
Alice had gotten Polly a temporary release for the day so she could join them for dinner. Because of this, Cheryl, Toni and Nana Rose would not be in attendance with Juniper and Dagwood. They felt she wasn’t far enough along in her healing to be around the children yet. Alice and Betty had words about Polly’s presence at dinner a few days prior.
“Mom, she’s psychotic!” Betty had reasoned with her. “You cannot let her out or she may run and never go back!”
Alice had flared her nostrils and planted her hands firmly on her hips, ready to face the drama head-on.
“She’s your sister, Elizabeth! We cannot just leave her there alone on Thanksgiving. We have to at least try to ease her back into this family!”
Betty stuck out her jaw and rubbed her tongue against her lower teeth, nodding her head in a knowing way and huffing a bit.
“Oh, I get it. You can leave me alone for months while you run off to rescue Polly, but she can’t be alone for one holiday even though she’s been threatening me from inside her rehabilitation center.”
“How many times, Betty?!” Alice shouted, flinging her arms open wide. “How many times are we going to have this same conversation?!”
Stretching her eyelids open wide and shrugging, Betty roared. “I don’t know, Mom. I guess until you actually start taking my feelings into account.”
Alice laughed, a sharp, single snort while continuing to core apples for the pie she was making for the holiday.
“Betty, there aren’t enough hours in a day for me to take all of your feelings into account. Polly is coming. End of discussion.”
Betty folded her arms across her chest and scowled forwards towards the floor in defeat.
“Fine.” she fumed. “Why should it be a happy Thanksgiving anyway. Why should that day be unlike all the others around this place!”
Alice rolled her eyes at Betty’s dramatics. She had been used to these theatrical arguments with Polly before, but never with Betty.
“Remind me to tell Jughead how grateful I am that he left Riverdale High when he gets home tomorrow,” Alice ranted sarcastically. “You’ve been such a ray of sunshine without him around.”
Huffing out an “ughhh” at her mother, Betty turned to leave the kitchen.
“Oh, and Betty?” Alice called from behind the counter. “Charles is coming, too.”
Stopping where she stood and spinning in the spot, Betty glared at her mother.
“Fantastic!” she yelled. “A psycho sister who was enamored with a serial killer cult leader and a brother who may be a serial killer all at our dinner table. Don’t let either of them carve the turkey. Or better yet, maybe Charles will know all the prime slice spots.”
Shooting her mother a dirty look, Betty stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs to scream into her pillow. Alice grabbed a nearby knife and took out her rage on the Granny Smiths instead.
Since that altercation, FP had been walking on eggshells with Alice, working extra hours just to be out of the house. JB had spent most of her time locked away in her room, headphones set atop her head.
With Thanksgiving a day away, Alice had kicked the preparations into full gear. Betty sat at the dining room table with Jellybean, eating cereal before JB would be heading off to school.
As a senior, Betty had finished midterm exams since most were in the form of term papers and was staying home today to help clean and set up. She also had other motives as well. Jughead was getting home around noon and with all their respective exams they hadn’t seen each other in two weeks.
Alice was already in the kitchen, cast iron and stainless steel pots scattered about. She had coerced FP to take off the day to help her prepare.
“Here’s the pan you wanted from storage, babe,” FP cooed sweetly to her as she stood cutting up bread to begin her homemade stuffing.
Smiling up sweetly at him, Alice slid a hand up his jaw to pull him down closer and press a kiss to the underside of his chin.
“Thank you.” Alice smiled warmly. “Now go grab the meat from the basement fridge so I can preseason it please.”
Betty put her spoon back in her bowl and wrinkled up her nose. There was a sour taste in her mouth and it wasn’t from spoiled milk. She pushed her chair back from the breakfast table, her appetite suddenly gone.
JB’s face held a similar look of disgust, but after an eye roll and a fake finger down the throat vomit motion to Betty, she resumed her meal, never one to skip eating.
As she stood, she heard a loud ‘plop’ from the kitchen as FP dropped a whole ham on the countertop. Alice’s back was turned towards the stove and Betty grinned to herself, pausing in her dash to go iron more napkins to enjoy the show she knew would soon begin.
Finished washing her hands, Alice turned towards the counter and stopped abruptly, her eyes, first wide, and then narrowing in frustration.
“What the hell is on my countertop?” she deadpanned, eyes narrowing at the offending hunk of meat.
JB looked between her father and Alice before sliding out of her seat and grabbing her backpack. She had seen enough domestic arguments for one lifetime. Quietly she slunk to the front door and disappeared off to school.
“It’s a ham,” FP said dumbfounded by her anger over a piece of meat.
“I know it’s a ham, FP, I’m not kosher. I’ve eaten ham,” she growled. “I mean, why is it on my countertop instead of a turkey.”
FP momentarily looked over to Betty for assistance, but she stuck her hands up as if to say, ‘not my problem’, before pretending to sort things out in their table linen drawer.
“The Jones men always have ham for Thanksgiving so when you sent me to shop I got a ham,” FP shrugged, unprepared for the full Alice Cooper experience coming his way.
“Oh,” she said softly and evenly. “Alright, then.”
FP breathed a sigh of relief and Betty’s head shot up, her jaw-dropping in disbelief.
“Yeah? It’s okay?” he questioned, looking hopeful.
Slapping the pot down on the stove and turning back to him, her hip jutting out and her hand hanging on her hip from behind her apron.
“NO! It is obviously NOT okay!” she spat at him and he recoiled from the verbal blow.
“We have seven other people coming to dinner who are NOT Jones men and who will be expecting turkey. They will be expecting turkey, FP, because it’s Thanksgiving and turkey on Thanksgiving is an American tradition! Nobody has ham!”
Sensing the depth of the trouble he was in, FP tried to reason with her.
“Alice, with the year we’ve all had I’m sure everyone just wants a nice quiet meal together. They won’t care if it’s ham or turkey. People like ham.”
“I like ham,” Betty interjected, suddenly feeling a bit defensive of FP after his comments and all his support this past year.
“Won’t care?” she exploded. “Are you shitting me, FP? People went up in arms when Starbucks didn’t have the right colored holiday cups and you think no one will care about our lack of turkey.”
“Alice,” FP chuckled. “I don’t think-“
“That’s exactly it!” she screeched as she began scrubbing potatoes as hard as she possibly could. FP was suddenly glad he wasn’t a potato. “You don’t think, FP! So now what you’re going to do is go out to every grocery store within fifty miles and find me a fucking turkey the day before Thanksgiving!”
He opened his mouth as if to argue but then decided against it. Grabbing his keys and his hat, he decided it was just easier to go with the flow.
“And FP?” she sighed. “I need some Guinness and mustard if you want me to cook this ham, too.”
A slow smile spread across his face and hers in return before he winked and headed out to look for a bird.
Betty had paused in her rummaging and looked up at the scene with a peculiar look. She had expected Alice to eviscerate him and instead she was cooking his ham. This was very different from her spats with Hal.
“Show’s over,” Alice mumbled from the kitchen. “Those napkins won’t fold themselves.”
12:00 PM
It had been almost four hours since FP had gone in search of a turkey the day before Thanksgiving. Since then, Betty had pressed and folded napkins, cut up cheese for an appetizer platter, stuffed 30 mushrooms, and vacuumed the whole first floor. She should have just gone to school.
At 12:03 on the dot, an engine rumbled up the driveway. Looking up from where she dusted the woodwork, she saw a familiar plaid jacket step out of the passenger side door and up the front steps.
Dropping her duster and prying off her gloves, Betty dashed to the front door and flung it open, pulling him into the front foyer and gluing her lips to his own. Her force propelled Jughead back a few steps and the kiss smothered his chuckle at her eagerness.
After a moment, a soft chortle and shuffle was heard from behind their linked bodies and they pulled apart. FP was trying to sidestep around them to get into the house, his arms weighed down by a giant 20-pound turkey.
“Sorry, Mr. Jones,” Betty blushed, stepping aside so he could get in.
“All good, Betty,” he replied. “I remember the draw of young love. And it’s FP, remember?”
Before Betty could respond, Alice’s voice came booming from the kitchen.
“If there’s not a turkey in your hands, FP, there won’t be any old love ever again.”
Shaking his head and rolling his eyes at them, FP tilted his head towards the kitchen and headed to bring Alice her bird.
“I missed you,” Jughead confessed, pulling her closer into a tight hug. “Two weeks felt like forever.”
Betty buried her nose in his jacket and sighed. “I know. It was so empty around here without you. Everyone has been so busy and wrapped up in their own lives.”
“I’m sorry,” he sighed, brushing his lips across the crown of her head. “I’m sorry you’re here dealing with our families and I’m not here with you.”
Betty looked up abruptly and shook her head.
“No, Jug,” she said firmly. “Don’t put this on yourself. We agreed this was why was best for you… best for us and our future. Don’t start to question that.”
He offered her a warm half-lipped smile before kissing her again.
“Alright you two,” Alice called from the kitchen. “That’s enough kissy face. No more PDA.”
Alice’s words were punctuated by the sound of spices being drawn from a cabinet and plopped on the counter.
Pulling back from Jughead, Betty groaned at her mother’s commentary.
“You can’t even see us from the kitchen and this is my home,” she retorted. “Can’t be PDA if we’re alone in the foyer.”
Sprinkling some rosemary into her stuffing mixture Alice chortled.
“I can hear you and that’s almost worse.”
Jughead chuckled at Alice’s cheek. He was used to her tough exterior and snide remarks by now but also had come to realize they were a part of her thick outer skin and her desire to have control over herself by controlling everything around her and he paid them no mind.
“Betty, Jughead,” Alice called. “I made you guys some sandwiches for lunch. I figured you’d be hungry, Jug.”
“Starving,” he drawled, staring down at Betty with a lascivious look. “Thanks, Mrs. Cooper,” he called towards the kitchen, intertwining his fingers with Betty’s to head towards the dining room table.
FP’s pool table had been relegated to the basement after months of intense debate to make way for the return of the table. Jughead recalled his first meal there, breakfast, where Alice had played 20 questions and stared at him as if he were a squishable insect.
“Just give me a few minutes. I need to stuff this turkey,” she called back.
Putting on his most suave expression, Jughead leaned over to Betty and teased, “I’d like to stuff-“
“BOY!” came FPs voice from the kitchen, deep and stern in warning.
“...that turkey in my mouth,” Jughead finished, his tone much less flirtatious.
Betty suppressed her laugh on the back of her hand as he leaned in close to her ear.
“Geez, the sound really does carry on here,” he whispered, lowering himself into a chair and tugging her into his lap.
Alice quirked a brow before dropping her eyes back down to the turkey in front of her.
She began to stuff the turkey further while mumbling to herself, “...apparently not enough chairs in this house, either.”
Pursing her lips and reminding herself to try harder, Alice gestured to FP to come help her.
“Grab the sandwich tray from the fridge?” she asked him. “There’s some for you, too.”
Popping a quick peck on the side of her head in thanks, he hurried to the fridge to grab the tray. After balancing the tray on one hand, he grabbed a fresh pitcher of iced tea with the other before pushing the door shut with his heel.
Alice grinned up at his balance before getting back to work.
“Look at those skills you got from your time at Pop’s,” she teased. “You’re a natural.”
FP swayed his way over to the table and slid everything down.
“Working at Pop’s?” he said in mock agitation. “I’ve had these skills forever, babe. I’m a Jones man and Jones men do not drop food.”
As they sat down and ate, Jughead filled them in on his most recent debates with the upper elite in his seminar. Betty couldn’t help but smile at his exuberance over scoring higher on his fall midterm than Bret and she squeezed his knee in praise as she ate.
Alice joined them after she had finished stuffing the turkey, exhausted from working in the kitchen since dawn.
“It seems like you’re really taking to your studies at Stonewall, Jughead,” she commented. “It’s nice to see that you feel challenged and are enjoying what you’re doing. We’re very proud of you.”
FP smiled over at her before sliding an arm around her shoulders and nodding in agreement. Jughead blushed, not used to the unabashed praise and Betty’s chest filled with warmth. They may be a bit unconventional, but they were family.
That night, after lounging around on the couches, all five of them tossing popcorn and watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, Betty and Jughead lay reclined on her bed; her head on his chest and him combing his fingers through her hair.
“So,” he prodded, “you ready for the big shebang tomorrow?”
“Honestly?” she confessed, “It’s all just too fast and too much for me.
Sliding a finger under her chin, he tipped her face upwards to look at him.
“Tell me,” he urged her, his eyes, kind and deep, gazing sleepily at her features.
“Mom and I just made up and Polly isn’t Polly anymore. Charles is coming and while he keeps dodging my investigative efforts, something still doesn’t sit right with me. He’s playing at something and I just can’t put my finger on it.” She exhaled. “After Chic and… my Dad…” she paused, sucking in a large breath between her teeth, “Everything still just seems so… wrong or off base.”
“Mmm,” he hummed, pulling her closer as she finished.
“Juggle, I love your family. They were good to me when I was alone,” she explained. “But all this newfound Cooper-Jones family bonding is also a LOT to take in after everything that’s happened.”
“Hey, Betty, it’s alright to feel-” he began to explain.
“Everything I loved has been destroyed in this house, in this family,” she choked out, tears she had been warding now spilling off the tip of her nose and onto his white tank below. “I don’t want to lose you guys, too.”
Quickly and unexpectedly, Jughead sat up, his forward motion pulling her up as well and he wiggled himself around so they were facing each other. Linking their left hands, he caught her eyes reassuringly before wiping at a tear with his right thumb.
“Betty,” he said softly, “Just because things seem to be good right now doesn’t mean something bad is going to happen. I know that might seem like the case with all you’ve- we’ve- been through, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Sniffling and looking up at him through her lashes, she nodded at his words, not truly believing them.
“Listen, your Mom and my Dad, as weird as that is, are happy. JB has a warm home and a full stomach without my Mom’s drug lords around. Polly IS getting better and you and I- well we are everything. We have things to be thankful for this year. Just take the moment and enjoy it.”
She remained silent for a few just looking up at him until she realized he was waiting for a response.
“Okay,” she finally whispered, rewarded with a small grin from him.
Pulling her into a soft embrace, he hugged her close before lowering them back down to the mattress and pulling the covers over them.
“C’mon, let’s get some sleep,” he said, getting cozy behind her, one arm draping over her stomach. “I’ll even let you be the little spoon… again.”
Her soft chuckle vibrates through him as he clicked off the light and lay flush against her back.
“I love you,” she whispered into the pillow.
“And I love you,” he mumbled into her hair.
Thanksgiving Day
6:00 AM
They had heard the bedroom door creak open around six am. Neither had bothered to open their eyes. They knew it was Alice.
She hesitated in the doorway, taking in the scene; the two of them cuddled up together and cuddled under a blanket. They looked to content and safe. She decided to let them sleep in.
The next time they awoke her bedside clock said it was eight twenty-two. After a few morning kisses and yawns, they trudged downstairs ready to be pummeled with a list of last-minute chores from Alice.
“Morning you two lazy bones,” FP called from his spot at the table where he shined silverware. A muffled morning came from them and a grunt of hello from JB who was curled up on the couch watching the parade.
“So, what can we do Mom?” Betty asked, her eyes still droopy from her uninterrupted sleep.
Alice shook her head and smiled softly. “Grab some pancakes, I kept them warm, and go watch the parade. Take a break. You did enough yesterday, Betty.”
Pouting out her bottom lip and curling up one side of her mouth, Betty shuffled over in her slippers to hug her mom before joining Jughead to load up on breakfast and plop on the sofa.
Alice joined them with a fresh cup of coffee as they watched the Rockettes perform and the colorful balloons march their way past Macy’s. Maybe Jughead was right. Maybe everything would be just fine.
2:00
Betty panted from the floor where she sat polishing the legs of the table once again. Jughead sat above her, clawing at his neck from the itchy sweater his father had “suggested” he put on as he repolished the silverware that Alice had deemed unfinished.
The guests were to arrive at 2:30 and Betty was second-guessing her decision to wear this cranberry merino wool.
At 2:17, the front door opened and Alice stepped through with Polly hiding timidly at her heels. This would be the first contact she had with Betty since the diffusing of her bomb vest at FBI headquarters.
“The table looks presentable now, Betty. Go wash up and then come and say hello to your sister. You too, Jughead,” Alice ordered.
After following orders, they headed back out into the living room where Betty was propelled backward by the force of Polly’s embrace.
“Betty,” she headed into her shoulders. “I missed you so much. I’m so sorry for the bomb vest and Edgar and…”
“...And the prank phone calls?” Betty queried, her tone not as warm as her sisters.
Polly pulled back from her embrace and offered a confused look.
“I didn’t- I wasn’t sure what you were talking about that night, Betty, and you never let me explain. I wasn’t calling you. I don’t even have outgoing call privileges.”
Betty wasn’t sure what to believe, but Polly’s response seemed genuine - lying was never her strong suit.
“Please, Betty,” Polly begged. “Can we just try and make things right just for today? I know there’s a lot to mend, but…”
Still caught up in her own thoughts, Betty offered her sister a nod and another small hug.
“Sure, Pol,” she sighed, not wanting to set off Alice’s dragon-like anger. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
Soon after all the guests began to arrive. Archie and Mary arrived first with a pumpkin pie and some cookie platters. Veronica came soon after, dressed impeccably and carrying fall-flavored macarons she had ordered from her favorite French shop.
Charles was the last to arrive, shuffling in the door a bit awkwardly and uncomfortably.
“Everyone,” Alice called to her guests who were gathered in the living room picking on her various appetizer platters. “This is Charles. Our son,” she added looking over at FP.
A round of “Hello” and “Happy Thanksgiving” echoed through the room as Charles nodded shyly. Mary stepped forward to offer a handshake and introduce herself and Archie gave a firm shake as well, followed by a “Nice to meet you, bro.”
Veronica held out her hand delicately and smiled brightly at him.
“Veronica Lodge. Girlfriend of Archiekins over here and owner of La Bon Nuit. Stop by any time,” she chirped. “Any brother of my dear Betty is a VIP to me.”
Polly moved to introduce herself but Alice pulled her back. While it was nice to have all her children in one room, having Polly and Charles interact was not something she wanted an audience to witness.
After the introductions had been made and the appetizers and cheese platter cleared, they sat down with a drink, apple spiced bourbon with cinnamon sticks for the adults and Alice’s own homemade sparkling cider for the minors, while they waited for dinner which would take place shortly.
Charles, FP, Alice, and Mary all sat around the dining table swapping old high school stories and giving Charles some background on their long, drawn-out histories. Betty, Jughead, Archie, Veronica, JB, and Polly sat around the sofa’s, chatting about Archie’s community center and how much Veronica despised her half-sister.
“Refills?” Betty asked, rising from her spot on the couch.
“Yes, B!” Veronica chirped, holding out her glass. “Maybe slip a bit of your Mom’s actual cider in it if you can. I could use the kick.”
Betty nodded and glanced back at her mother at the dinner table.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she replied.
As she gathered glasses, Jug rose up from the armchair to help her.
“I can carry some,” he offered, receiving a half-grin back from her in thanks and a quick peck on the lips.
“Gross,” JB groaned, curling back up into a ball on the couch and re-opening the comic book she had been reading.
In the kitchen, Betty began to refill all the glasses. Jughead has positioned himself behind her and was periodically tickling her sides, and hugging her waist, dropping his chin to rest on his shoulder. The warmth from the fireplace and the comfort of having a home left him feeling extra thankful this year and he couldn’t help but express his affections outwardly.
Giggling, “Jug! That tickles!” Betty spilled a bit of cider on the countertop. With one last squeeze, he let her go so she could finish filling the glasses and he grabbed a rag to wipe up the spill.
With the counter clean and drinks poured, Betty turned to face him as he went to lift a few glasses to carry back inside.
“This is nice,” she said softly. “You were right. I was anxious for no reason.”
“What was that?” he asked, placing a hand behind his ear as if he couldn’t hear. “I was right? Can I get that inked and signed for future reference.”
Betty swatted at him and began to shift away, but his hands once again found her waist and he pulled her into a soft hug, his lips coming down to graze her forehead and then her nose before landing on her lips.
It was a short kiss, but smoldering and lingering all the same. Pulling back he loosened his hold on her and sighed.
“Good,” he smirked down at her. “You deserve time to enjoy today and to be happy. We don’t get that very often.”
They grabbed the glasses and headed back into the living room, unaware of Alice’s gaze upon them. Sensing her internal struggle, Mary decided to jump in.
“Alice, FP, those two are honestly just perfect together,” she cooed. “When they were little they always had a special friendship and I often wondered if it may grow into something more one day.”
Alice raised her brows and took a long sip of her drink, sitting back in her chair against FP’s arm.
“Yes, well, I just worry their relationship is growing a little too fast,” Alice confided.
Offering an affectionate smile, Mary leveled,” Come on now. They aren’t doing anything we weren’t in high school. The difference is that they are a lot smarter than we were and definitely more mature.”
Alice simply hummed, whether in agreement or not Mary was unsure.
“Isn’t it a good thing that after all they’ve been through they have each other to keep them grounded?” Mary added.
“They do love each other, very much so,” FP agreed with a wistful smile. “Jug would do anything for Betty. She was there for him when I wasn’t. No matter what happens I’ll always love her for that.”
Alice smiles back at him, proudly and maternal, before leaving her fingers in his on the table.
“And Jughead has been good for Betty,” Alice agreed. “I don’t deny that. I just worry that with all the hands they’ve been dealt in Riverdale that they’ve grown up too fast. I don’t want them making the same mistakes we did.”
Mary waved a hand and scoffed at her. “Oh Alice, look at those two,” she said, gesturing towards Betty perched on Jughead’s lap in the living room. “They aren’t you two. They won’t choose other paths and forget each other.”
Alice shook her head at Mary, sipping her drink against before explaining herself.
“No, I don’t mean about breaking up,” she explained. “I’m worried they may get careless and reckless. I don’t want her ending up like Polly and I- pregnant and in high school.”
Mary grew silent and FP tensed beside her, not sure if Alice realized the notion her words conveyed.
Clearing his throat and glancing down at his cocktail, Charles shook the ice in the drink back and forth before pushing his chair back.
“Right,” he said with a crooked twist of his lips. “Because a baby from a teen pregnancy would be a bad thing.”
Alice’s jaw dropped open and her eyes blew up into saucers.
“Charles, no,” she gasped, standing from her chair to reach across the table. “That’s not what I-”
Rebuking her effort to grab him, Charles scooted back further from the table and shoved his hands into his pants pockets.
“I think,” he began, shifting back and forth on his toes. “I just need some air.”
Excusing himself, he put down his cocktail before heading out front into the chilly night air, his jacket still hug on the entryway coat rack.
Alice dropped her head back against the chair and FP squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.
“Alice,” he said warmly. “He knows you didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
“I have to fix this,” she said grimly. “I’ve hurt that poor boy enough for one lifetime. Would you excuse me?”
Grabbing a sweater from the hall closet, Alice snuck out to find Charles sitting on the front steps.
“May I sit?” she asked, waiting for his slight nod of freemen’s before doing so.
For a while they sat silent, Alice debating where to begin.
“When I was Betty’s age I got pregnant with you,” she began. “I was- God, I was terrified. I was poor, young, and had no idea what to do with a baby.”
Biting down on her tongue and glancing up at the sky for courage, Alice continued.
“My friends had suggested places I could go…” she eluded. “Places that would… end the pregnancy.”
Charles winced slightly at her confession, his fists balled tightly in his lap, jaw tense from the chilled air.
“I couldn’t,” Alice whispered finally. “I couldn’t do that to my baby. But I also knew I couldn’t be the mother he deserved.”
Sniffling back up at the sky and wiping the corner of her eye, Alice placed her hands over his frozen ones.
“I never thought in a million years that you wouldn’t get adopted, Charles. That didn’t occur to me. I always pictured you happy and loved- and I thought of you every day.”
Charles glanced at her for the first time since she began and could see the truth behind her words.
“Earlier, inside, I didn’t mean to infer that having you was something bad. I just meant that I didn’t want Betty to have to make that choice or to be as scared and confused as I was. I want her to decide for herself when she’s ready to be a Mom and have no regrets, Charles. Can you understand that?”
For a while he didn’t respond. He just stared back at her, an unreadable expression on his face. After what seemed like an eternity to her, he finally spoke.
“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I can understand that.”
A faint smile drew across her lips and she offered his hands one more squeeze.
“Cmon,” she said standing up. “Let’s get you inside. It’s freezing out here.”
Charle’s remained on the steps, his hand dropping from hers as she rose.
“You go ahead, Alice,” he said politely. “I’ll be just a few moments more.”
With one last smile and nod, Alice headed back into the house and after hanging up her sweater, into the kitchen since dinner was now ready.
Betty, although she had not heard the exchange in the dining room, could sense something was awry. Things had been so perfect today. She was surrounded by loved ones and even warming to Polly a bit again. She knew Charles was the odd man out and decided to extend an olive branch to him as well.
Slipping on a jacket, she grabbed his from the coat rack, assuming he must be chilly out there.
Just as she opened the door, she heard the whispered end of Charles on a phone call.
“Me too,” he had said affectionately. “I love you.”
Closing his phone, he turned to find Betty at the top of the steps and his pupils dilated slightly and he stiffened bedside he caught himself and righted his posture.
“Betty,” he said perplexed. “What are you doing out here?”
She debated for a moment before deciding to pretend she hadn’t heard his call. Olive branch be damned, she thought to herself. He was definitely up to something and she should trust her gut instincts.
“Bringing you a jacket,” she said sweetly, holding his coat out to him. “I thought you’d be cold.”
Smiling hesitantly, Charles took the jacket but did not put it on.
“I was just coming in,” he explained, climbing the steps to meet her.
“Oh, perfect,” Betty said, turning to head back up the steps. “I can’t believe work was bugging you on Thanksgiving!”
“Well,” Charles groaned, “the FBI doesn’t take holidays.”
Betty, having perfected a phony chuckle, offered one to her half brother before opening the front door.
“Dinner is ready,” she explained, stepping in the house. “Get ready for the turkey vs. ham debate of 2019.”
As they entered the house, they were unprepared for the scene before them.
Alice stood in the kitchen, roasting pan empty in her hands, the ham on the floor in front of her while huge teardrops cascaded down her cheeks.
“Ally,” FP reassured her. “It’s fine-”
“It is NOT fine, FP,” she bellowed. “My hands were all greasy and now you’re ham is on the floor! Your only tradition you wanted! I just wanted everything to be perfect for our first Thanksgiving. I wanted to get it right this time!”
Sinking down to the floor, FO sat with her, scooping the ham up and the. Plopping it on a platter.
“Hey,” FP said softly. “Ham doesn’t make my holiday. Family does. And I’ve got more family this year than I ever have.”
Alice smiled up at him in thanks from the floor where she continued to sop up grease and juices.
“Besides,” FP reasoned. “I’m totally still eating that ham.”
Alice shot him an incredulous and disgusted look.
“Me too, Mrs. Cooper,” Jughead agreed. “Your floor is literally cleaner than most people’s plates anyway. Plus, we’ve settled for Spam some Thanksgivings, so floor ham is already a step up.”
Laughing, Alice took Jughead’s hand and let him pull her up before wrapping him in a tight hug.
“Thank you,” she sniffed into the hug. “Now, let's go eat some floor ham.”
The dinner table was covered with dishes and looked like a Martha Stewart catalogue. Various potatoes, string beans, candied yams, stuffing, meats, rolls, and other side dishes painted a colorful display against the white table cloth. The conversation was as colorful and delicious as they spread of food.
As most finished eating, Jughead and JB kept reloading their plates, filling up to the edges and making others laugh is disbelief.
As they all had finished and settled back in their chairs, pants tight and stomachs bulging, Veronica spoke.
“Not to get cheesy,” she simpered, “but I just wanted to say that I’m really thankful for all of you at this table. My family, while always unconventional, isn’t really my family anymore. If it weren’t for moving here to Riverdale I’d be alone in all this. But, I’m not. I have you and I’m thankful.”
“V,” Betty smiled and leaned over to hug her friend. “You’re my family for sure.”
“My turn,” Archie said taking another sip of cider.
“Is this a thing?” JB groaned. “Do I have to go?”
FP elbowed her softly and tossed a look that said to behave. JB rolled her eyes and stuffed another dinner roll in her mouth.
“You guys know I’m thankful for all of you,” Archie began. “Especially you this year, Mom. But this year, I’m thankful for all the times I spent with my Dad. Every time I stayed in to watch awful old movies or hung out in the garage working on the car. Uh, yeah.”
Mary grinned sadly before hugging him. “I’m thankful to be back in Riverdale and to be closer to Archie. I’m also thankful that we can leave the past in the past and rekindle old friendships.”
“I’m thankful for second chances,” FP jumped in. “For my kids to have a warm house and food. For me having a chance to be an honest man and get things right. And I’m glad you gave me another chance, Alice.”
Alice leaned over and offered FP a small kiss before taking a deep breath.
“I’m thankful to have Polly home, safe but recovering. I’m thankful, Betty, that you’ve let me back in your life after all I’ve done, and for you, FP and Jughead, for taking care of her. And Charles? I’m so thankful you found me.”
Glancing over at Betty, she realized it was her turn to speak. She wasn’t sure exactly what she would say and decided to let her words take her.
“Last year was a roller coaster, to say the least. I’m thankful for such supportive friends who have been there for me this past year. And Jughead, I’m most thankful for you because I don’t think I would have survived myself if you weren’t there to ground me and love me,” she confessed, grabbing his hand and linking their fingers.
“You were really my rock and my lifeline; my constant. I’m thankful, Jug, that you have this wonderful opportunity at Stonewall to help you prepare for the future you deserve. Also, I’m kinda thankful not to be dead.”
Laughs echoes around the table at her last remarks, after all the chaos of the previous year, laughter seemed like the only way to get by.
“Polly?” Alice prompted her.
“I’m - I’m thankful to be home, even just for a day. And that Junie and Dag are safe after I-”.
Polly couldn’t continue from there and Alice wrapped an arm around her daughter, comforting her. To diffuse the tension, Charles jumped in.
“I’m happy to have met you all,” he interjected. “Happy to be having my first ever Thanksgiving dinner.”
Jughead cleared his throat before speaking.
“I am thankful for opportunities. Arch has his Community Center and Veronica her speakeasy. Dad, you have a whole new life and job and you’re doing amazing. Alice, you get a chance to report in a way you’ve always wanted. I’m just thankful that everyone is in a good place. Oh, and also Betty. I’m thankful for Betty,” he tossed in as if it was an afterthought, earning a slap from her that he, in turn, leaned into to steal a kiss, mumbling, “I love you,” against her lips.
“Floor ham,” JB blurted out from behind her fork. “I’m thankful for floor ham.”
Loud and joyous laughter and choruses of “She’s still eating?” echoed around the table. They were far from okay and far from perfect. There were still roads to pave and mountains to climb, but if they celebrated love, friendship, and family, they had a lot to be thankful for.