#elsewhere

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Twas the day before Thanksgiving, and thus a Wednesday, and so the Truthbranch couple a enjoying an evening of domestic bliss away from the manor.

As they do, at least weekly.

Sometimes more often, and sometimes with guests, but Wednesdays are just the two of them.

Coradel can certainly wear a formal gown, but she also makes these maroon jeggings and wheat-toned cable knit sweater look good.

Hair loose and flowing, barefoot, she dances a bit to the music they've got playing as she stirs the tomato sauce, occasionally using the wooden spoon as a microphone on the chorus.

August wears jeans and a gray henley shirt untucked. He is likewise barefoot, and frying hamburger.

She occasionally offers the wooden spoon "mic" in his direction so he can solo.

He... isn't bad. He knows all the Christmas songs and... his voice is not bad; he can carry a tune.

Coradel has not developed a strong opinion on how early Christmas songs should start (though she knows it's a debate for others), so she's fine with tuning into those if that's what he's in the mood to sing. And the water is ready for the pasta.

"... snow, let it snow, let it snow.....Is the sauce ready for the meat?"

"Ready and waiting and eager," she says with a sassy grin.

He looks over puzzled at that, then gives her a sheepish smile as he adds the browned beef in, grease and all.

"Get the pasta?"

She grins and shakes her head at her hopeless husband a moment, then goes to grab the pasta. "'Ghetti, bows, or shells?"

"Whatever you're in the mood for." he turns to the salad.

She tilts her head and considers, the brings over the shells and dumps a healthy portion in the water, giving it a little stir. "Got to remember not to eat tomorrow morning. The feast...remember last year?"

A smile. "Yes. We have the wishbone for this year."

"Do you think we could slip out to see your, ah, mortal host family for a dessert portion? After everything else."

"Oh, I didn't tell you...they actually told me we shouldn't come. They're being extremely careful about the virus." A bit of a grin. "I don't think they would have been that way a few years ago. Though...hm...." She trails off why stirring.

His expression falls but he nods. "That makes sense. And we can't get to my folks in time with any explanation." He looks at her "Though?"

"Wellll..." she gives him a side-long look. "We could enchant them, enjoy company with them, bring something with healing properties for them to take when we go...and they won't recall properly, but will probably remember a better Thanksgiving than they expected." A hopeful tone.

He blinks. "Yours or mine?"

She considers. "Well, I suppose both, if we could manage getting them in the same place."

"Coradel....." all his concerns are in his voice "To what purpose of the Dreaming would we do this? What need?"

A look. "To give comfort to mortals, my Liam husband?" A shrug. "Though maybe we should save such an adventure for Christmas."

"I... I'm not sure I'm comfortable with it. If we could visit them without subterfuge, offer our honest Thanks.... "

"It's fine. We'll do the video chat thing. I'm sure they're going to commiserate with other 'empty nest' parents about their video holidays. I imagine it's something of a status symbol, now."

"Are you sure?" He approaches and offers to take her hand.

A soft laugh as she rests a hand in his. "It was your suggestion to visit in the first place, silly. I'm fine, either way. And we'll likely be so well-fed we'll be properly round by that point."

He nods. "Very well. Thanksgiving... and there is so much to be thankful for.... at EarthRunes."

"Check the pasta?"

He turns to stir the sauce.

She checks, declares it good, and dumps it in the strainer in the sink.

"Save a bit of the.... nevermind. Sauce is ready. I'll mix, finish the salad?"

Surely Coradel has long since learned August's routines for how to cook pasta, since he's the one who taught her, so whatever needed saving got saved. "Got it," she says, turning to give the salad its last fixing and a good toss.

August gets the garlic bread out of the oven and brings that, then the pasta pot, to the table.

And the salad is there...plates...glasses, water, wine...."Ready?"

"Yes."

But first he crosses to her and kisses her. "Ready."

"Mmmm!" She lengthens the kiss, then murmurs, "Best appetizer ever."

He chuckles and leads her to eat as if it were the Feast, and seats her, and serves her.

She is happy to let him cater to her, and enjoys watching him as he does so. "I have a handsome husband," she points out.

"You have a Sidhe husband." He reminds as he seats himself to serve the same.

"Works for me," she replies cheerfully enough.

He chuckles and takes a bit, watching her.

She takes a bite as well, watching him right back, amused.

Then she declares, "Good." A sip of wine.

"It is." He agrees.

He takes another forkful. "What do you want to watch, after. Of... if you do?"