Page 10 of Sugar, Sprinkles, and Secrets
Cara
Haha, ok, I’ll keep that in mind.
Me
If I don’t see you, Happy Thanksgiving, Cara.
Cara
Happy Thanksgiving, Max! Have a good night.
Me
You too, Cara. Sweet dreams.
My dreams will be sweet, but torturous, because they will likely once again feature the dark-haired beauty that’s filled with moxie and spice.
Chapter seven
“No, no, no, no,” I murmur as I hold back the curse that is definitely not appropriate for the little ears sitting at the counter. I stayed up late getting everything ready for today and got up at four a.m. this morning to put the turkey in the oven. When the kids woke up at six-thirty, we went for a morning walk before having breakfast downstairs. It’s now just after ten and my apartment should smell delightful—but there’s nothing.
Just like there is no heat in my oven. I look at the knob that is clearly turned to bake, but even my hand can tell that the inside of the oven is room temperature. I can take the sides out of my refrigerator and bring them downstairs to bake in the bakery’s ovens, but the turkey is a total loss—and after sitting in the oven for six hours, it wouldn’t be edible even if I cooked it immediately.
“Gobble, gobble! Happy Thanksgiving, turkeys!” I hear Cami call out as she comes into the apartment using the key I gave her. She carries the two pies she made and freezes as she takes in the scene before her. “What’s wrong?”
“I uh … I think my oven died.”
“Oh no!”
“And my turkey has been sitting in it since four this morning.”
“Oh noooooooo!” Cami sets the pies down and immediately pulls me into a hug as the tears collect in my eyes.
“I can’t give them a Thanksgiving without a turkey.” I try to speak softly, but of course, Dante hears me.
“There’s no turkey? What’s wrong with our turkey?” Dante doesn’t ask for that much as a kid, but turkey is his favorite meat, and Thanksgiving is his favorite meal of the entire year.
“There has to be a solution. I don’t know if any restaurants are open, but we could go into Nashville. I’m sure we can find somewhere to get a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Let me get my phone and start looking at our options.” Cami squeezes my shoulder and goes to get her phone out of her purse.
Max’s text from last night comes to mind, and while I really don’t want to consider it, I know that man and his brothers will have more turkey than they will know what to do with. “I might have another solution that wouldn’t require an hour drive…”
Swallowing my pride, I grab my cell and send a text.
Me
So, when you say you have too much food… does that include turkey?
Max
So much turkey. Smoked, baked, and I think Tommy is going to fry some too. Why? Can I bribe you with turkey?
I huff out a breath. The man doesn’t need to bribe me with anything. He is enough temptation all by himself.
Me
Maybe. I had an issue with my oven and I have a very sad turkey-less five-year-old little man. I have sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, and the stuff for roasted carrots. Cami also brought a pumpkin pie andan apple pie.
Max
