Vanessa Carlton comes winging our way on saccharine wings of tangerine sweetness, playing her stupid piano and reading from her dream diary. Eleanor gave Nate a covered plate for his father, still wrapped up in Amsterdam, and Harold laughed at Anne for refusing her husband his Thanksgiving gravy. Heading out to the elevator, the Archibalds met the van der Woodsens warmly. Eric's hair was what they call "Rufus-like." Lily went looking for her little girl, and found her slumped in a chair, passed out. "Too much turkey?" Yeah: Wild Turkey. What? Blair nodded and laughed and smiled and didn't think about how her best friend wouldn't even remember this Thanksgiving. The very best one ever.
Serena, Eric, and Lily laugh and talk about their mother's strange new history, chomping on French fries and smiling. Lily said goodnight to the Waldorfs, and Blair said goodbye, sweetly. Serena slept with Nate at the Shepherd wedding, and ran off to boarding school; Eric tried to kill himself. Lily tried to stay afloat, and sometimes she remembered how easy it was, once, to just be dangerous, and hit the ground running, without anybody around to disappoint her, or to be disappointed.
Eleanor brings in the ginger tea, and she and her daughter sit at the kitchen island, inventing new traditions and eating canapés. Harold and his wife, who had an understanding, sat with their daughter between them, and he massaged her feet, at the end of the best Thanksgiving ever. Blair could have gone to sleep right there. Harold ran off with Roman, deserting his daughter, but Eleanor didn't mind: she always knew he would eventually. Blair got better, and got sick again, and Eleanor always knew that would happen too.
Down in DUMBO, Dan passed the mashed and his family made fun of him, for dreaming about his girl instead of enjoying Alison's stuffing. She was so drunk she walked out into traffic, but all he could think about was how beautiful she looked that morning, and how there's something about dangerous girls; Jenny offered that one day Serena might remember his name, and then he'd have something new to be thankful for. Alison ran off for Hudson, and Rufus tried to become a man, and slipped into old habits. And now the four of them are playing football like a sack of fucking Humphreys, and falling into a pile laughing, and Alison's hip bone slices into Dan's abdomen like a spiral-cut honey-glazed ham, and they're a family for a second, as the sun goes down.