The Thanksgiving meal that I had spent hours preparing was thrown out by my daughter-in-law, and I was devastated by the news.
On the other hand, my granddaughter, who is 14 years old, was not going to let it go.
Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays.
When you gather your loved ones around a table that is laden with food that you have cared deeply about, there is a certain enchantment that takes place.
What is my recipe for turkey? It was handed down to me by my mother. What about my pecan pie? After many years of trial and error, it has been perfected.
Every single one of the mashed potatoes, the stuffing, and the cranberry sauce is a component of who I am.
But hosting is not a simple task. After I have finished peeling, chopping, and roasting, I find that my knees are starting to hurt. Despite this, I tell myself that it is justified.
Whenever she visits her grandmother, Chloe always tells her, “Grandma, your food tastes like love.” My motivation comes from those words.
However, there was a hiccup in my preparations for this year in the beginning. My daughter-in-law, Candace, has never shown much interest in either me or the food that I prepare.
The modern twists and store-bought shortcuts are her absolute favorite things. We’ve never actually communicated with one another, but I understand how she feels. And she is aware of how I will feel.
At least my son Brad and my daughter Chloe are huge fans of my meal. In fact, Chloe asked me the previous week if I could show her how to make my pie crust as well.
I told her that I would do it when she was ready to make the commitment to having sticky fingers and flour-covered countertops. Her grin was followed by the word “Deal.”
I was exhausted to the bone by three o’clock, but I felt proud of myself. The turkey was a golden brown color, the pie was allowed to cool, and the sides were seasoned to perfection.
I was able to prepare so much food that it was unable to fit in the refrigerator in my kitchen, so I had to utilize the backup refrigerator in the garage.
As I was in the process of preparing the table, I became aware of the entrance to the house.
“Mom? ” Yes, we are here! The upbeat tone of Brad’s voice beckoned out.
Upon seeing the clock, I blinked. “You’re early!”
When Candace entered the kitchen, she was wearing heels that no sensible person would cook in, and her blonde hair was nicely done on the side. She greeted me with a “Hi, Margaret,” but she hardly looked at me. “We thought we’d come early and help.”
“Help?” Despite my shock, I repeated. During the ten years that Candace had been a member of this family, she had never once offered to assist with the preparation of a meal.
The big smile that lit up Chloe’s face as she ran in behind her was a welcome sight. “Hi, Grandma!” I was thankful for the warmth that she had given me, and I responded by giving her a firm hug.
All of Candace’s hands were clapped. “So, what can I do?”
I was hesitant. Had this been some kind of a gesture of goodwill? Or did she have some sort of secret? Brad wore a grin. “All right, Mom. Allow her to contribute. You’ve already accomplished a great deal.
“Alright,” I responded in a tense tone. Candace, you shouldn’t worry about the turkey. I will go and get some fresh air for a moment.
Upstairs, I intended to spray some water on my face and possibly take a seat for a short while to give my legs a break. But as soon as I sat down, I was overcome with tiredness. It’s possible that I fell asleep, because when I opened my eyes, the house was filled with the sound of people talking.
I mumbled, “Oh no,” as I jumped to my feet. As I hurried down the stairs, I stopped suddenly at the entrance to the dining room.
All of the guests had already begun eating, and the table had been set. A smile appeared on Candace’s face as she sat at the head of the table and received compliments on her food.
“This turkey looks absolutely incredible,” Aunt Linda remarked as she cut into her own chunk of the bird.
Candace replied, “I worked so hard on it,” as she tossed her hair with her hands.
I blinked my eyes. Worked very hard? It did not appear that any of this was my food. Not clumpy, but creamy, were the mashed potatoes that I made. Sage was used in my stuffing, not whatever green flecks this was supposed to be. May I ask where my pecan pie was?
A knot was beginning to form in my stomach, and I made my way into the kitchen by stealth. Initially, I was struck by the aroma, which included sweet potatoes, turkey drippings, and… the garbage?
As soon as I opened the garbage can, my heart sank immediately. In addition to the coffee grounds and napkins, there were my dishes, which were all in their original sealed containers.
My hands were shaking. “What—”
“Grandma?” It was Chloe who whispered to me from behind me. My eyes welled up with floods of rage and pain as I turned as I turned around. “Did you see—”
“I saw,” she said as she moved closer to the scene. By looking about, she made sure that there was no one else in the vicinity. “She threw it all out when you were upstairs.”
My voice was trembling. “Why would she—”
“Don’t worry,” Chloe murmured as she took my hand in hers. Something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on was reflected in her eyes. “I took care of it.”
“What do you mean?”
Chloe flashed a grin. Please have faith in me, Grandma. We should get back to the table and enjoy the show, so let’s get started.
And with that, she dragged me toward the dining room, leaving the kitchen and the dishes that I had damaged behind.
A hush descended upon the dining room. There were forks floating in the air, and the visitors exchanged bewildered stares with one another.
“This… uh…” As he chewed slowly, Brad continued, his brow wrinkled in concentration. “It’s a little… intense?”
Aunt Linda mumbled, “I think I got a bad piece,” as she reached for her water glass during the conversation. “Is it me, or is the stuffing… salty?”
“Salty?” Uncle Jim repeated, his expression contorting into a frown as he did so. “This is not salty; it is water from the ocean! Where can I find this?
The self-assured smile that Candace wore wavered. She exclaimed, “Oh no,” with a voice that was a little bit too loud. “Are you serious? Does it have a salty taste? I must have, well, applied too much seasoning to the dish. The tone of her laugh was artificial, and her cheeks went a bright pink. “I was rushing, you know, trying to get everything perfect.”
Under the table, Chloe gave me a gentle prod. She hushed, “Go ahead,” with a voice that was low and naughty.
“What?” In response, I murmured.
She said the words, “Try it,” with a grin that was scarcely contained.
I gave my plate a quick glance. A small slice of turkey was carved up and placed in my mouth, and I did so with a rising sense of distrust.
Instantaneously, my pupils drew together. Due to the high salt content of the turkey, my tongue was burning. Not only was the stuffing not any better, but it was also inedible. In an effort to suppress my laughter, I hastily went for my waterglass.
“Well,” I remarked, mopping my mouth, “that’s… something.” that was my response.
A soft giggle came from Chloe, and I managed to catch her wink.
Other people around the table did not appear to be as composed. It was with a clink that Aunt Linda placed her fork down. She whispered, “I’m sorry, but I just can’t eat this,” while attempting to smile but failing.
There was a lack of diplomacy in Uncle Jim. “Candace, this stuffing could preserve a mummy.”
Candace’s grin became more constricting. She spoke at a higher pitch, “Oh, I—I don’t know what happened,” as her voice became more elevated. “Perhaps the turkey brine was too potent for the turkey? Or was the seasoning mixture poorly done?
It was my cue to do so. I got to my feet and cleared my throat. “Well,” I remarked, raising my glass of sparkling cider, “let’s not worry too much about one little mishap just because it happened.” After all, preparing food for a large group of people is not an easy chore.
Feeling relieved, Brad smiled. Yes, Mom, that is correct. To celebrate all of Candace’s hard work today, let us raise a glass to her.
In addition, I smiled warmly and said, “Oh, without a doubt.” “Candace definitely surpassed her own efforts. I have a small surprise of my own, and since everyone is still hungry, I will share it with you.
The smile on Candace’s face became ice cold. “You do?” she inquired, raising the volume of her voice over the norm.
“Oh, yes,” I responded as I put my glass down on the table. “Because I had a hunch that we might require a backup plan, I made sure to prepare some additional dishes. They are currently located in the refrigerator located in the garage. Could you please lend me a helping hand, Brad?
There was a flurry of murmurs in the room as Brad followed me out of the room. As I opened the refrigerator, I discovered that the Thanksgiving dishes that I had meticulously prepared were still in their containers and had not been eaten.
“Wow, Mom,” Brad exclaimed as he lifted the pot of turkey that was quite heavy. “You really went all out this year.”
I repeated it in a soft voice, “Just wanted to be prepared,” despite the fact that my pulse was pounding with happy anticipation.
Upon our return to the dining room, I started arranging my dishes on the table, which included the golden turkey, fluffy mashed potatoes, savory stuffing, and my well-known pecan pie. The expressions on the guests’ cheeks were radiant.
Aunt Linda remarked with a gleeful clap of her hands, “This appears to be absolutely incredible.”
“Finally, real food!” With a giggle, Uncle Jim said, which resulted in a few people laughing.
With her lips squeezed into a narrow line, Candace sat rigidly in her seat. “Oh, you didn’t have to go to all that trouble, Margaret,” she remarked in a tone that was tense.
At a later time, after the visitors had left, I was standing in the kitchen covering any leftovers with aluminum foil. Candace entered the room with her heels making a soft clicking sound against the tile.
The throat was cleared by her. I’m sorry about what happened earlier, Margaret. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. When I threw away your food, I don’t know what possessed me to do whatever I did. I was simply thinking, don’t you know, that it might be too… more traditional.”
I gave her a brief glance, taking in the discomfort that she was experiencing. I finally said, “I appreciate the apology, Candace,” while maintaining a level tone throughout the conversation. “I know you were trying to help in your own way.”
While she did nod, I could tell that she was not used to acknowledging that she was at fault.
Chloe appeared just as she was closing the door to the kitchen, her hands stuffed with pie plates. “Grandma, your food saved Thanksgiving,” she commented with a grin on her face.
I let out a quiet laugh. “I think you had a hand in that, sweetheart.”
She smiled broadly and remarked, “Mom is never going to forget this,” as her grin went wider.
“Well,” I remarked as I pulled her into an embrace, “the most important thing is that you stood up for me.” To me, that means more than you will ever be able to comprehend.
Chloe radiated happiness. “Anything for you, Grandma.”
That evening, while I was turning off the lights in the kitchen, I was overcome with a profound sensation of appreciation. Despite the fact that the day had not gone according to plan, it had brought to my mind something that is far more valuable than a ritual or a beautiful meal: the intense and devoted love that I have for my granddaughter.
Did you like reading this story? Check out this one, if you are interested: In preparation to make a good impression on the guests, Margaret carried her Thanksgiving turkey with a beaming smile on her face. The moment was shattered, however, when her daughter, who was only five years old at the time, grabbed the tray and threw the turkey onto the ground while yelling, “I SAVED YOU ALL!” When the reality was revealed, everyone was left speechless and unable to believe it.