“Last week.”
“When I was hopped up on medicine?”
“I suppose.”
“Chris?!”
Cassie’s lips contorted into a grimace as she shoved her finger into her ear, wiggling it furiously against her best friend’s shriek.
“Baby,” I tried to console her, feeling at a complete loss. I knew she was stressed, but I didn’t understand what the problem was. “What’s wrong?”
“Well,” she huffed, marched to the refrigerator, and pulled open the freezer drawer. “This!”
“Oh,” I muttered when I saw another twenty-pound turkey sitting comfortably where I planned to put mine.
“Yeah.” She blew her hair out of her face before swiping it away from her flushed cheeks. “What on earth are we going to do with two turkeys?”
I shoved my turkey in next to the other one. “Eat them,” I suggested, immediately realizing my sarcasm was not the answer she was looking for.
“We don’t have the oven space here to cook two turkeys, Chris. We’re already going to have to time things perfectly for all the sides and everything else. Your parents and Savannah are going to be here. This is our first Thanksgiving together. It’s their first impression of me?—”
“Emily, they already met you,” I reminded her.
She shot daggers into me from where she stood.
“Honey,” I said, approaching her carefully. I rubbed up and down her arms and reminded her, “They love you. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“I’ve never cooked for them is what I meant. And this is a big deal. It’s Thanksgiving dinner. With your family. It has to be perfect!”
“And it will be,” I said.
“It will be perfect,” Cassie said, finally jumping in. “You’re a wonderful cook.”
“I’ve never made Thanksgiving dinner,” Emily confessed. She looked like a deer in the headlights as she looked between me and her best friend. “My grandma always took care ofeverything. And when that got to be too much for her, we joined other friends and family in the neighborhood. After that?—”
“You moved here,” Cassie finished for her.
Emily nodded as tears pooled in her eyes.
Cassie pushed between us and took Emily in her arms. “And then you started coming to my family’s Thanksgivings.”
Emily nodded again as her tears spilled over. Then she erupted into full-fledged sobbing as Cassie held on tight.
“I don’t know what to do,” Emily blubbered.
“The first thing is to take a deep breath,” Cassie said.
Emily inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath.
“One more,” Cassie said.
I breathed with Emily and hoped for the best.
Cassie peeled herself away from Emily, asking, “Okay? Are we better now?” She brushed Emily’s hair away and waved her hand my way, mouthing, “Paper towels.”
I unfurled a strip, tore them away, and shoved them into Cassie’s awaiting hand. “Thank you,” she said before turning back to Emily, handing them to her so she could wipe her eyes and blow her nose. “Now, let’s go over your list. Again.”
Emily breathed in before she smiled again. “Scalloped potatoes, sweet potato casserole, green beans—casserole and almondine. . .”