We Gather Together

Summary: Thanksgiving dinner. Set in the 'Future Perfect' universe.

Disclaimer: Katie and Leigh are mine; the rest belong to other people.

A/N: This is set in the 'Future Perfect' universe, which features Katie and Leigh, the twin daughters of Tim and Abby.

'Is this enough, Mama?'

Abby glanced over at the kitchen table, where her daughter was peeling apples for a pie. A single skinless apple, still possessed of its core, sat in a bowl waiting to be sliced.

'No, keep going.'

Leigh sighed audibly as she reached for another apple.

'And we can do without the attitude, young lady.'

'But, Mama, everyone else is...'

Abby turned as much as she was able to without moving her hands away from the sink, not wanting to drip turkey blood onto the floor. They'd already had the conversation about Leigh's friends taking advantage of the uncharacteristically mild November weather by getting together to play soccer while they waited for the big meal. A hint of exasperation edged into her voice.

'Well, the faster you peel them, the sooner you can get out of here.'

'But, nobody else has to...'

'You're the one who doesn't like pumpkin, Leigh. If you want me to make a pie just for you, the least you can do is peel the damn apples!'

Leigh's eyes grew wide with surprise, and she wisely stopped complaining and bent her head over the table. Abby suppressed a smile as she turned back to the sink and went back to making sure that the inside of the turkey had been cleaned to her satisfaction. Leigh had no doubt heard worse language on the schoolyard, but the uncharacteristic outburst had clearly been effective at conveying the message that her mother was rapidly running out of patience.

When Tim wandered through the kitchen a few minutes later, a freshly laundered tablecloth draped over one arm, Abby was staring critically at the turkey.

'Tim, how big does this guy look to you?'

Tim glanced briefly at the bird.

'Relax, Abby. It's going to be big enough.'

'No, that's not what I mean. The label says it's a twelve-pound turkey...'

'Ok, so it's...'

'Does that look like a twelve-pound turkey to you? It's enormous!'

'Abby, it's not 'enormous'. It's...'

'Bigger than twelve pounds!'

'Ok, maybe it's a bit bigger. What's the problem? It just means we got some free turkey...'

'Do you know how long to cook a turkey, Tim?'

'Uh... a couple of hours?'

'Twenty minutes a pound! Which means you need to know how much it weighs! Really weighs! If that's a fifteen-pound turkey, that's a whole extra hour it needs to be in the oven...'

'Well, we're not in a hurry...'

'But I need to know when to start cooking Katie's tofurkey, and when...'

'Katie's what?!'

'Tofurkey, Daddy. A tofu "turkey",' Leigh explained, sketching the inverted commas in the air with her fingers.

'...to put the vegetables on! I need to know how much this bird weighs!'

'Abby, calm down...'

'Don't tell me to calm down!'

Abby glanced back and forth between the turkey and her husband.

'Go get the scale from the bathroom, Leigh.'

Leigh looked up in obvious confusion.

'GO!'

Leigh dropped the knife with a clatter and grabbed a piece of paper towel, scrubbing at her hands as she raced from the room.

'Abby, you can't put a turkey on a bathroom scale...'

'So, we weigh you, with and without the turkey, and the difference is the weight of the turkey.'

'I am not getting on a scale holding a turkey!'

'Well, it's either that, or you take the turkey in to the lab and put it on one of the scales there for me.'

'Can't you just estimate the weight?'

'Do you want everyone to get food poisoning from undercooked poultry?!'

'We have a meat thermometer, Abby.'

'I still need to know when it's going to be ready, so I can time everything else!' Abby gestured wildly in the direction of the tablecloth on Tim's arm. 'Go put that on the table, and...'