13
CASSIDY
Groaning,I rolled over in bed and winced at the bright light doing its best to blind me. I was in my house, but I didn’t remember getting here or much of anything after going to the grocery store yesterday.
“What time is it?” I moaned, rolling toward my nightstand.
Whimpering, I nearly wept when I saw it was already seven-thirty in the morning, and it was Thanksgiving Day. I was supposed to cook for my parents, and I hadn’t even started the pies yet.
I frowned at the pills and water sitting on my nightstand, but shoved them in my mouth gratefully and drank as much of the water as I could handle while my stomach roiled.
I really needed a quick remedy for this hangover. There was no time to feel sick when there was so much food to cook.
“The groceries,” I murmured, remembering how I shot out of the store yesterday without paying for my shopping cart or bringing the food home.
I was so screwed.
Tossing off the covers, I frowned as I looked down at my bare legs, wondering why the hell I removed my pants but not my sweater. Not that it mattered.
“Bathroom. Vomit, then brush teeth and shower.”
I walked myself through the steps, taking everything as slowly as possible while also rushing to get myself ready for the day. There was so much to do, and I considered calling my parents and canceling right up until the moment I realized my groceries were on my counter, and the cold items were in the fridge.
“That’s weird,” I murmured, wondering when that had happened.
I hadn’t finished shopping yesterday, but almost everything I needed was here. I might have to modify a few dishes, but at least I wouldn’t have to run out for everything this morning.
I set to work on making pies, rushing to the sink every few minutes when the smell got to me. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get through this day. I felt absolutely miserable.
Glancing at the clock, I groaned when I saw it was already ten, and I still had to get the turkey going. I hustled to the fridge, pulling out the turkey and quickly patting it down. So much for letting it sit at room temperature.
I was elbow-deep in butter and olive oil when the phone rang. I would have ignored it, but it was my mother, and if there was any hope of getting this meal together in time, I was going to need her help.
Wiping my hands on a dishtowel, I quickly answered, grimacing at the grease streak I’d left on the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, honey! How’s everything going this morning?”
My mother’s cheery voice did nothing to help the pounding in my head. Glancing around the mess of my kitchen, I tried to be positive. “It could be better.”
“Oh, good. Good. I just wanted to let you know that I invited a few people along for dinner this afternoon.”
“You did what?” I gaped.
“I invited the Callahans. You know they’ve been dealing with a lot of hardships lately. What with the town attacking poor John for his part in his brother’s ordeal and his son getting all that flak for that business with Bailey…”
“Mom, you invited Austin to my house?”
“Honey, there is no proof he did anything to Bailey. That’s just town gossip, and you know how this town loves to spread rumors.”
“Yes, but?—”
“Honey, I will not blame a man for something that happened without evidence that he actually did it!”
I appreciated that about my family, but in this case, I was pissed that she invited him over here without even talking to me. I remembered hanging out with Austin when I was in school, dating Jeff. He was always a little on the weird side, and as the years passed, his attitude only got stranger to the point that I was uncomfortable when he was around.
Now, she invited him for Thanksgiving dinner.
