WORDS: ghost – bacon – turkey – growl – corn
Thanksgiving had turned into Abby’s worst nightmare. She looked forward to it from January 1—after she’d fully recovered from the last dinner—to the Wednesday before the wretched day. Make that until the Monday before that dreaded day, when her preparations began.
Her worries started from the moment she went to the grocery store to purchase the enormous amount of dinner necessities. With each item, she added to the cart: pumpkin puree for her pie; pecans for another pie; cranberries and pineapple for a salad; colored mini marshmallows and pudding for another salad; lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and dressing for yet another salad; at least two kinds of pre-made rolls; green beans, bacon and dried onions for a baked vegetable dish; peas and mayo for a cooler vegetable dish; and… Something else. What was she forgetting on that extensive shopping list?
Abby rolled over for the hundredth time early Wednesday morning. Her mind hadn’t shut down since she’d crawled into bed last night. Her nearby family of twelve would come today, and she wanted everything to be perfect. Not that anyone but her expected that. She couldn’t help it; she wanted perfection in her house, even if only for this one day of the year.
“Honey, just relax,” Sam soothed from beside her, gently trying to pat her back as she rolled over yet again. “There’s nothing to worry about.” He sounded barely awake even as he spoke the words.
“Nothing?” she questioned in disbelief, sitting up and glowering down at him. His eyes were closed, which only made her more frustrated. “Nothing!” She slid off the bed, giving the mattress a firm jiggling to show her annoyance.
“Everything is under control,” he grumbled, opening one eye at her. “You always have things under control. That’s how you roll.”
She blew out a deep breath and stared down at the idiot man she loved but wanted to shove off the bed now. “It’s notunder control. I’ve forgotten something. I just know it,” she growled.
He chuckled, dared to laugh at her hysterics. “Impossible. I know you.”
She picked up her pillow and swatted him, which only made him laugh harder. “You’re worthless,” she growled. “Absolutely worthless.”
“Maybe, but you adore me anyway.” Finally, he sat up and said more seriously, “What can I do to help?”
Now she felt horrible. It wasn’t his fault she was a mess. It was this stupid annual family dinner. Every year she hosted it, she felt this way. Crazy. Certain she had forgotten something. Sure her beloved family would find fault with something. There would be a freak dust storm inside the house and all her careful housecleaning would be for nothing. She would go to set out the stoneware dishes she only used on this one day of the year and she would drop half of them before they made it to the table. The silverware in the drawer would have rusted overnight. The glasses would have disappeared from the cupboard, stolen away by some mischievous ghost.
She pulled in a steadying breath and gave him a weak smile. “It’s probably best if you just stayed out of my way. I need to focus.”
“You know the family will help you. This isn’t all on you.” He slid his long legs over the side of the bed, stood, and stretched. Even though he’d gained a few pounds and lost a bit of muscle tone over the fifty-two years of their marriage, he still looked good to her.
He was right. From the second the first of their guests arrived, her kitchen would fill up with people wanting to help. And they would all be bringing even more food. She always, always made too much, worried needlessly.
It only took her a few minutes to hurry through her morning ablutions and hustle to her kitchen. With each step there, she mentally went over her food list. Check. Check. And check. Then her eyes widened, and she gasped, “Corn! I forgot to get corn for the…”
“Our daughter always brings a corn dish,” Sam reminded her as he strolled into the room.
She nodded. “Right. She does.” Problem solved. Still, something felt off. There just had to be something she’d forgotten.
He glanced around the room, at the counters covered with already made pies, and at the various baking dishes ready to be filled. He sniffed the air, frowning. “Where’s the roaster?”
“The roaster?” Abby asked in confusion. Then she gasped, “The turkey! I forgot to buy a turkey.” She burst into tears and slumped against the counter. “I’ve ruined everything.”
Sam walked over and pulled her into his arms, wiping away her tears, smiling lovingly down at her. “I just remembered you telling me your sister borrowed the roaster. She’s bringing the turkey. Nothing is ruined, sweetheart.”
She slumped against him, relieved. But she could swear she heard that mischievous ghost giggling at her.
