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Two young adults stepped into a modest suburban home, each carrying a duffle bag, chatting with each other as they made their way to the living room. One of them was a woman in her twenties, tan in complexion and fairly tall and slim in build. Her hair was long, curly, and naturally red, the color complementing her warm brown eyes. Currently, she was clad in a purple, midriff baring tank top with a blue butterfly on it and flared denim jeans with a pair of boots.
Next to her was a seventeen-year-old boy, with a smaller, wirier frame than the young woman. He had a similar skin color to the girl, albeit lighter and freckled, red hair that was short and wavy, and chocolate brown eyes. He was dressed in a yellow t-shirt with red mushrooms adorning the front of it, khaki shorts, and slightly worn-out sneakers.
“It’s great to have you back in town for Thanksgiving,” the boy said, “It’s so boring here compared to living it up in a big city. At least they have more than one movie theater and you don’t have to drive an hour just to get to the mall.”
“Trust me Layne, going to school in a bigger city isn’t as cracked as it seems,” replied the young woman. “You think I like being tight on cash and stressing out about classes? I’m pretty sure I have stomach ulcers! Value your youth, baby brother, before it gets cruelly taken from you.”
“I think you’re overexaggerating just a bit,” Layne chuckled halfheartedly.
The redheaded woman gave him a venomous smile in turn, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Just wait; you graduate from high school in a couple of months. You’ll know. You’ll learn the hard way.”
Their banter was cut off by a bubbly voice calling out from the kitchen: “Are those my babies I hear?”
Strolling into living room was a middle aged African American woman, a radiant smile on her face. Her body type was similar to that of the young woman, only shorter and with a prominent pair of hips. She had hair that was likewise curly, only ebony in color and stopping right below her ears. Her eyes were a pleasant shade of brown, shared between the two young people. Most strikingly of all, the woman was completely nude; outside of a pair of sandals and a wedding ring on her finger, she wore absolutely nothing.
The younger woman, completely unphased by the nudity on display, happily chirped, “Hey mom! Glad to be home! And I’m loving what you did with the new wallpaper.”
Overcome with emotion, the older woman rushed over and wrapped the younger redhead into an affectionate bear hug. “Oh, Aaliyah honey, I missed you so damn much! You haven’t been home since our summer trip to Disney World and then you weren’t taking our calls last week and I just got so worried…oh but thank God you’re here now!” the middle-aged woman spoke a mile a minute, overjoyed to see her oldest child once again.
“Yeah, sorry for not calling earlier…I was really busy with finals and kind of tuned everything out…can you try not squeezing so hard…I think I just heard a rib snap,” Aaliyah gasped, overwhelmed by her mother’s embrace.
The woman released her daughter from the fierce hug, eyes misty from emotion. “Sorry, I just can’t help myself! You have no idea what it’s like being a mama bird and seeing all your baby birds leave the nest.”
‘Definitely not looking forward to this after college,’ Layne mentally noted, fearing his mother’s empty nest syndrome and disposition for ferocious hugs.
Catching her breath, Aaliyah then asked, “Oh hey, where’s dad? He said he had something big planned for when I got home.”
“Oh, your father is in the backyard honey. He should have everything prepped by now,” the nude woman answered, abuzz with excitement. Giddily, she gestured her children to follow and all through walked into the kitchen, arriving at the sliding glass doors that lead to their yard.
Pushing one door aside, the older woman called out, “Bruce sweetie, Aaliyah and Layne are home!”
“Bring them out here Whitney, I just finished getting everything ready,” a soft yet masculine voice answered back. With that, all three stepped outside and into the back yard; looking around, Aaliyah noted that not much had changed since she came by in the summer.
Their yard was still surrounded by a seven-foot-tall white picket fence, ensuring complete privacy. Within the space itself, there was a flowerbed in the left-hand corner where Whitney liked to tend to her daisies and begonias. To the right was a salmon pink shed where their father Bruce liked to keep his tools, to the point he rarely uses them in fear of damaging them. In the very center was the family patriarch, a large cooking pot right next to him.
Like his wife, Bruce was completely nude save for a pair of gloves and some white sneakers. Bruce was a mountain of a man, a little over six feet in height and husky in body type, making him look intimidating to those that didn’t know him. It was eyes, a serene shade of baby blue, that gave an idea of the gentle family man he was. His body bared, one could see his fair skin tone and hirsuteness, with copper red body hair going from his chest down to his belly and covering his arms and legs. This same shade of hair color could be found in his neatly combed, wavy hair and a short, bushy beard.
“Aaliyah, welcome back home kiddo,” Bruce jovially greeted his daughter, “What better way to celebrate the family coming together than to celebrate a family tradition!”
Upon taking a close look at the pot, Aaliyah realized what her father had planned. “Dad, you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, right?”
“That’s right kiddo; it’s the annual frying of the turkey for the Thanksgiving feast!” beamed the older man. “For years our family has taken pride in frying our birds and each member had a shot at personally cooking up the main course. Uncle Joey had his shot last year so now it finally comes down to me.”
“Uh dad? Doesn’t everyone in our family always burn the turkeys when they try to fry them up? Uncle Joey’s eyebrows still haven’t grown back from the last Thanksgiving…” Layne noted nervously, not enjoying this particular tradition.
“Oh you can’t even tell they’re gone! He does such a good job of drawing them in with a marker,” chimed in Whitney, not really helping the situation.
“And things will be different from the last few times,” Bruce asserted to his family. “I spent the entire month studying what others did wrong-the kind of turkey used, the speed in which they put it, how hot the oil was-and comparing them to my own notes on Thanksgiving preparation. After several sleepless nights, I think I’ve come up with the perfect, absolutely foolproof way of frying this gobbler.”
Aaliyah merely crossed her arms, unconvinced of her father’s confidence. “You really think nothing could go wrong with this? Nothing at all.”
“You have my word as a father that nothing, and I mean nothing, will go wrong with this Thanksgiving,” Bruce replied with the utmost certainty.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Bruce was using a fire extinguisher on the smoldering remains of the turkey while Layne tried fanning the smoke away with a large plate, both in a coughing fit. Whitney couldn’t help but cringe at the sight before her while Aaliyah looked on with a dark scowl on her face.
“Well…at least the fire department didn’t show up. We managed to fix it all on our own!” said Whitney, forcing a smile on her face that fooled no one.
Stopping his fanning, Layne pointed to his forehead and added, “And look; we kept our eyebrows! No need for markers!”
Aaliyah, not in the mode for their lightheartedness, huffed, “Well, who could have seen this coming? Really living up to the family tradition. I suppose we’ll have to have pizza for dinner like the last few times?”
“We’ve lost the battle, but not the war,” Bruce said, putting the fire extinguisher down, “I still have one last trick up my sleeve which should be ready right about…now.”
A ding from the oven could be heard from the kitchen, signifying something was done cooking. Aaliyah’s expression went from disgruntled to curious as her ears perked up from the sound. “What was that…?”
“That would be Gobbler Two. Got it two for one at the supermarket and it really came through in the clutch,” smiled Bruce.
Aaliyah stood, dumbfounded. “So…you had a Thanksgiving turkey cooking in the oven while you nearly got your chest hair singed off in a fryer blaze?”
“Well, I told you it was foolproof didn’t I?” chuckled Bruce from the bottom of his belly, “You think I would do a family tradition with a success rate of less than five percent and not have a contingency plan? Homer Simpson I am not.”
“Shame we couldn’t pull a successful frying but at least Thanksgiving is back on!” chirped Whitney.
Aaliyah stood still for a moment, unresponsive, before breaking out into a tired but genuine grin. “This family can be really crazy sometimes, you know that?”
“Crazy as a fox. Now you cubs get in here; we got a dinner to dig into,” the red-haired man said, heading inside, with Whitney right behind him.
“I’m going to need a minute to get changed upstairs; my clothes reek from the smoke,” Layne mentioned as he went into the house. Aaliyah followed her family inside, removing her top along the way, “I’m not even going to wait; I’ve been dying to go au naturel since the car ride here!”
Soon the naturist family were gathered at the table, dressed in their Sunday’s best (as nature intended) and sitting on towels as they happily chatted amongst themselves. Aaliyah kept everyone updated on what was going on at college; classes were tough but fun, the professors kept you on your toes while actually teaching you something, but good God did she wish she had a roommate who was cool with nudity. Layne complained that there was nothing to do around town for the umpteenth time, eliciting groans from Aaliyah. Bruce brought up the fact that a nearby ranch was looking for some hired help and that he’d be perfect for the jobs there. That got the younger man to hush up quickly. Whitney kept everyone in the know about the recent developments in the neighborhood, such as the new potential nudist neighbors. When asked how she knew they were nudists, Whitney responded, “Well when I passed by their moving van on my way to work, I noticed there was only three boxes marked clothes. That has to mean something, right?”
The rest of the meal was filled with chowing down on good food in between laughter and enjoying each other’s company. Aaliyah stood by her claim that her family could be crazy at times. But it was, for the most part, the good kind of crazy, the kind she would cherish every minute of.