B: What are you doing?

 

J: My dad and I got in a fight. I was crashing at Eric's,

and he finally chased me down.

 

B: You're lucky. You have a family who fights for you.

Mine doesn't even care if I'm there.

 

J: Your mom loves you in her own way, Blair.

 

B: But the way your father loves you, I've never had that.

My own dad, as sweet as he is, isn't here.

Your father    will go anywhere for you, any time.

I know, because I've sometimes even made it happen. 

B: What? What? Is it my hair?

 

J: No. You're just wrong.

E: Jenny. You look cold. Here. Come on, dear. You've made your point.

B: I don't think I have.

E: Well, I think that you might. . . . . .feel differently when you find out what I have been waiting to show you.

B: I'll come.

E: Yes.

B: On one condition.

E: What?

B: Jenny has to go home too.

E: I think that's a terrific idea.  Everyone should be where they belong on Thanksgiving. With their families. Oh, come on. Come on. Come on, come on.