The day after Thanksgiving, the house was quieter than usual. The remnants of turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce still lingered on the dining table, but the energy of the holiday had faded. The scent of cinnamon and baked pies clung to the air, but now it was just Andy and his nephew, Austin, sitting together in the living room. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor.
Andy, a hulking figure, sat in a large armchair, his massive frame nearly swallowing the seat. He was dressed in an old band t-shirt, sweatpants, and worn-out sneakers—nothing fancy, just comfortable. His thick arms, veins snaking down to his hands, rested on the armrests as he glanced down at his nephew. Austin, on the other hand, was a small, wiry ten-year-old who looked like he could barely lift a stack of books, let alone the weights Andy moved with ease.
Austin sat cross-legged on the floor, fiddling with his fingers, clearly lost in thought. He was a little shy, the kind of kid who preferred books over sports and didn’t mind sitting on the sidelines during family events. But today, he looked up at Andy with a sudden glint of excitement in his eyes.
“Uncle Andy,” he said, his voice small but determined. “Can we do the wishbone thing?”
Andy blinked, momentarily confused. He wasn’t sure what Austin was talking about, but his nephew’s eager expression gave him no room for hesitation. Austin had mentioned the tradition briefly at dinner the night before, but Andy hadn’t paid much attention. He was more concerned with getting through the meal than with any of the old family customs that didn’t involve lifting weights or protein shakes.
“The wishbone?” Andy asked, furrowing his brow. “What, like… from the turkey?”
“Yeah!” Austin nodded, his face lighting up. “We’re supposed to make a wish and then break it. You know, like in those movies.”
Andy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. His niece had explained the tradition a few times, but he’d never really gotten into it. He was the kind of guy who focused on lifting, eating, and occasionally throwing around a football—superstition and wishes didn’t really register on his radar. Still, Austin was looking at him with those wide, hopeful eyes. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him for a minute. Besides, how hard could breaking a wishbone be?
“I guess we can try it,” Andy said with a shrug, standing up from the armchair. His feet thudded heavily against the floor as he crossed to the kitchen, his bulk filling the doorway.
Austin scrambled to his feet, eager to follow, his small hands tugging at his sweatshirt. “I’ll get it, I’ll get it,” he said, rushing ahead of Andy and grabbing the bone from a small dish on the counter. It was a clean, pale piece of turkey bone, slightly bent in the middle where it had split after being pulled from the carcass.
Andy leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. The bone looked fragile in Austin’s tiny hands, but he was determined. Austin’s lips parted as he glanced up at Andy, his eyes full of expectation.
“You know how this works, right?” Austin asked, suddenly self-conscious. “We both hold a side and then pull. Whoever gets the bigger half gets to make a wish.”
Andy gave a small laugh, a deep rumble that seemed to shake his entire frame. “Guess I can’t back out now. Let’s do this.”
Austin handed him one end of the bone, gripping his own side tightly. His small fingers wrapped around it with surprising determination, his knuckles going white as he braced himself.
“Ready?” Austin asked, his voice pitched higher than usual, as if he wasn’t sure what was going to happen next.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Andy said with a grin. He wasn’t about to let his nephew down. He figured it’d be a quick game, a little tug of war to amuse the kid. He was stronger, but Austin was quick and persistent—traits Andy could respect.
“On three,” Austin said, lifting his other hand and counting down.
“One…”
“Two…”
“Three!” Austin shouted, and the two of them yanked in opposite directions.
Andy wasn’t prepared for how tight the pull would be. His initial yank should’ve been enough to break it, but Austin held on. The little guy wasn’t giving up. His face scrunched with effort, his body jerking as he pulled with all his might. Andy smiled, admiring the kid’s tenacity. He gave it another tug, but Austin’s grip only tightened.
“Come on, kid,” Andy muttered, using more force.
Austin’s feet slid against the kitchen floor, but he refused to let go. He was determined to win. Andy couldn’t help but feel a little proud. For a moment, he let go of the bone’s other side and gave Austin a head start, watching as his nephew fought to hold his ground.
Then, with a final, sharp tug from both of them, the bone cracked in the middle, splitting with a resounding snap.