“I can make a pudding pie, Mom!”
She laughs. “I know you can. Eli is bringing something a little more intensive, right?”
“Rolls.”
Mom blinks. “Oh. Yeah, you’ll both be fine. Next time you make a lasagna, though, I’ll help. Just thinking about the mess you described when you made it for me . . .”
“That was a blender issue. Otherwise, I think we did pretty well.”
“It was really good.” She kisses my cheek. “Have fun baking in the morning, and if I don’t see you before you go, have fun at your party!”
I go to my room and pull out my phone, sitting on the bed and messaging Eli that Mom enjoys teasing us about cooking too much.
His reply is quick.There’s a lot to tease, even thinking about us cooking. Pretty sure we’ll get to tease some of the guys tomorrow, though. None of the team strikes me as master chefs.
Friendsgiving, here we come,I text back.
Maybe it’s the differentkitchen, but everything goes really smoothly the next morning. No real mess, other than a bit of flour and milk that spilled over the bowls on the counter. My chocolate pudding pie and Eli’s homemade rolls are done long before we need to go, and the kitchen cleaned.
We celebrate by eating the last of the apple raspberry pie and watching a movie.
“Fred just texted,” Eli says. “He told Gavin he could help set up, so he’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
I hide the evidence of the now-finished pie in the trash can just before Janet gets back with Hugh, from his playdate.
“Don’t tell me you’re still baking,” she says, as Hugh runs right to his toy cars in the living room. The kid can’t get enough of them lately.
“Nah, we finished right after you and Hugh left. We’re heading to the party in a few minutes.”
“Hope you don’t poison anyone,” Janet calls over her shoulder.
“That’s your job, when you cook!”
Eli is shaking his head when I look at him. “Pathetic comeback.”
“Like you could do better.”
“Shut up.”
I pause. “Actually, that is better.”
His lips tilt up.
Seth and Fred pick us up and drive us to Gavin’s. I spot Seth’s contribution for the party as soon as I climb into my seat, and have to smile. “You brought the bag of chicken tenders, still frozen?”
“He claims we’d just need to reheat them when everyone gets there,” Fred says, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. “I say he’s just being lazy.”
“Never said it wasn’t both,” Seth says, grinning. He turns to us. “So how was Thanksgiving for you guys?”
Eli and I look at each other, unsure how to respond.
“I can tell you about mine,” Fred says swiftly, over the awkward pause. “We had a video chat with my brother, since he had to go back to base . . .”
In minutes we reach Gavin’s house, having heard about both Seth and Fred’s Thanksgiving days and told them an abridged version of the chaos that took place at my house.
“Let me get that,” Seth says, grabbing Eli’s container before Eli hops down from the truck. He looks at me. “Here, I got that too.” Seth sets the pie on top of the container of rolls he took from Eli. “Don’t need any tragic accidents.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” I mutter, hopping to the ground.
