An answer to the Thanksgiving story challenge.

THE ART OF COMPROMISE

by

Owlcroft

"We gotta have a serious talk." Judge Hardcastle plopped into the right-hand wing chair in front of the television.

McCormick lifted an eyebrow at him and muted the sound on the Angels game. "Serious? What about? Look, if it's those azaleas, I'll get to those this weekend, okay?"

"Nah, nah." The judge waved a hand. "I said serious."

McCormick mentally ran through a list of possible serious topics for a discussion, from the Birds and the Bees to specializing in Constitutional law, then gave up and asked, "What?"

Hardcastle looked down at the memo pad he carried and said, "The menu, of course. For Thanksgiving. Now I'm willing to compromise on some stuff, like the stuffing and the veggies. You said last year you hated those peas and little pearl--"

"Don't even say the word!" Mark held up a hand. "I hate those!"

"Okay," replied the judge pacifically. "How about that green bean casserole instead? With the soup in it."

"Now yer cookin'," said McCormick slyly. "Hey, cranberry jelly or cranberry sauce?"

The judge rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. "You got to pick the beans, I say cranberry sauce. Now, candied yams or sweet potato pie? Your pick."

Mark hmm'ed. "How come I get the tough ones?" he complained.

Hardcastle just looked at him and waited.

"Candied yams," was the final answer. McCormick shook his head. "I think."

"Nope, you've picked. It's candied yams this year. Now, I'm gonna say those fan-tan rolls, okay?" The older man made another notation on his list.

"Not the Parker House? Ju-udge, come on," wheedled Mark. "Yeah, well, if you get to pick the rolls then I get to pick the stuffing."

"Hey," Hardcastle protested. "That's not fair!"

McCormick grinned at him in triumph. "Wild rice with mushrooms and walnuts."

The judge eyed him closely. "Not sausage?" he tempted.

Mark visibly wavered, then held firm. "Nope. Wild rice. If we went with sausage, you'd probably cheat by using one of those boxes from the store instead of real bread."

Hardcastle bridled in contempt at the idea. "I'd never do that." He glared at his sidekick's snort of disbelief. "Especially after that fiasco last year," he admitted. "Well, then, all that's left is dessert and that's my pick. I say . . ."

"Wait a minute. You're gonna say mince pie and I want pumpkin." McCormick rested his chin on his palm and squinted at the ceiling. "How 'bout both this year?"

The judge considered that, then wrote down 'mince/pumpkin'. "Okay, but whipped cream on top," he stated unequivocally.

"But it won't hurt to have some ice cream in the freezer." Mark brightened. "Hey, ice cream sounds pretty good right now. You want some?"

"Yeah, sure, why not." Hardcastle put his memo pad down on the coffee table. "It must be in the 90s outside."

McCormick ran lightly up the steps to the hallway, saying, "Yeah. I don't know anybody else that has to plan Thanksgiving dinner in July."

finis