SCENE_01
Between the Rooster Gravy Boat and the Second Helping
Uncle Dennis is still holding the electric carving knife when he asks it, gravy from the rooster-shaped boat dripping off his thumb. The card table wobbles under the extra leaf, the TV plays football on mute in the next room, and he leans back in the recliner he claimed an hour ago. 'So when are you getting a real job?' comes out between bites of dark meat, like he's asking if you want more rolls.
SCENE_02
The Math You Do While Refilling Your Plate
You laugh it off out loud, then spend the next twenty minutes doing arithmetic in your head at the sideboard: what you'd have to say to make him understand, how many years it would take, whether it's even worth explaining. You go back for a second helping of stuffing you don't want just to have somewhere else to stand. By dessert you've skipped the pie and left the room twice.
SCENE_03
What the Recliner Doesn't Audit
Dennis is grading your year off one carving-knife's worth of small talk. He hasn't seen the parts of your work that don't fit into a Thanksgiving sentence, and he isn't going to, no matter how good your comeback is. The more accurate read is that his question measures what fits between bites of turkey, not what your job actually is. Before you leave tonight, you write down three plain facts about your work on the back of a place card and slide it into your coat pocket.