Highway Kismet

The Fight for Pie

When Mitchell said his family went big for Thanksgiving, I didn't think it would be huge. Carly was a woman on a mission in the kitchen and was awake from five AM, cooking up a storm all by herself. Not only did she prepare Thanksgiving dinner but made a splash for breakfast too.

When Mitchell and I reached the Clarke residence the previous night, it was pretty late and his parents were already asleep, so we only met them in the morning. Seeing them after so many months was a heartwarming experience and much different from the first time I met them, Carly and Mason were thrilled to see me and hugged me before greeting Mitchell – he felt a little left out but his parents didn't seem to notice.

I was more than happy to see them too and Carly's maternal affection touched me, she was too good for words and even though she and Mason knew everything about my mom, not once did they smother me with sympathy or even bring it up.

It was almost one-pm and I was in the kitchen with Carly while Mason and Mitchell were elsewhere – Carly had to raise her voice a few times for them to get ready before the guests arrived. I insisted on helping where I could because the poor woman seemed so stressed without any help, she gave all the staff the weekend off because she believed they also should celebrate holidays with their families.

Carly was currently setting the dinner rolls onto a tray to put into one of the three ovens the kitchen had, she brushed over butter, parsley, and garlic before placing them in.

"I think you need a spa day after this," I commented.

Carly let out a small chortle, "Mason generally treats me to that the weekend after Thanksgiving."

I took on the responsibility to make a few side dishes because I felt bad, Carly made so many different vegetarian dishes for me and I felt that added to her workload, of course, she did it with a smile and didn't mind one bit.

After preparing squash topped with creamed corn and cheddar cheese, I was currently mixing breadcrumbs, parmesan cheese, parsley, and garlic in a small bowl to stuff zucchini with. 

I smiled at her, "I thought Mason would've helped out with the cooking."

Carly choked on a laugh, "Mason would burn down the kitchen, the only thing he can make are scrambled eggs," She lowered her voice and added, "And between me and you, those aren't the best either."

I laughed, "Well, I see where Mitchell gets his culinary skills from."

"No," Carly shook her head, "Mason's better than Mitch, Mitchell needs a recipe to boil water and he'd still find a way to mess it up."

I could believe her, Mitchell was absolutely useless in the kitchen, our experience with the brownies was proof.

"I can believe that," I chuckled.

Carly shut the oven door before she walked over to the oven above that one and checked on the turkey. She then sighed and looked around the kitchen, there were over a dozen cooked dishes all ready to be served, she looked exhausted and needed a nice long bath before all the guests arrived.

"Let me help you with that," She stepped towards ready to take over, but I stopped her.

"I got this," I assured, "I'm no MasterChef but I promise I'm better than Mitch. Go freshen up and I'll handle what's left."

Carly grinned gratefully, "Are you sure?"

I nodded, "Certain."

She lovingly caressed my arm before removing her apron and with a thank you, she left me all alone in the huge Clarke kitchen.