It's the night before Thanksgiving. In the morning, Nancy and Ned will head to his parents' house, and after lunch they'll go to Nancy's father's house. Of course Edith and Hannah have been preparing the Thanksgiving feast for years now and don't really need help, but Nancy's making two dishes: green bean casserole for Ned's parents, and peanut butter truffles for dessert at her father's house. Even if they pale beside Hannah's usual showstopper desserts, Nancy knows that Ned will happily finish them off once they're back home. Edith is great at family meals, and Nancy wanted to take something that Ned's mother didn't usually make.
It's just that she's been working hard on catching up with her field reports, and she put off the grocery shopping until tonight, and it's snowing. She's exhausted.
Why the hell did I decide to do this from scratch? she thinks, stifling a yawn as she checks the ingredients gathered on the countertop. Couldn't just buy canned green beans and cream of mushroom soup, oh no.
Ned comes in, an empty M&M wrapper in his hand that he tosses into the trash. "Doing okay, babe?"
She shrugs. "Yeah. I just... I just need to get it in the oven, and I'll be okay."
"Mmm-hmm." He loops an arm around her waist, briefly, and drops a kiss on the crown of her head. "Let me know if you need anything?"
"Mmm-hmm."
There are so many steps. Ned steals a couple of the shallot rings once she's fried them, but she can't blame him for it; they smell incredible. With every step, though, Nancy feels her energy draining a little more. She decides to do the truffles while the casserole is in the oven, but right after she sets the timer for thirty minutes, it seems much more important to take a little rest break.
Ned's watching television, his laptop on his lap, and Nancy sits down beside him, releasing a little half-sigh, half-groan when Ned slides his arm around her shoulders. Her feet are aching. She's just so tired.
"How's it going?"
"Mmm. Okay. Wake me up in ten minutes if I fall asleep?"
"Sure thing, honey."
She was joking. She just needs to rest her eyes.
When she wakes up with a start, their apartment is dark and—and she's in bed. She's stripped down to her underwear, but she isn't cold, because Ned's cuddled up against her.
"Mmm—"
"Hmm?" Ned's arm is draped over her, and he tightens it a little.
"The—oh God, the—the casserole!" It's hard to think straight, but her panic is clear.
"In the fridge," Ned murmurs. "Shh."
"You took it out for me?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"The shallots?"
"On top. It smelled great."
She relaxes, her heart rate returning to something near normal. "Thank you," she whispers. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go to sleep."
"No prob."
The truffles aren't done. She'll just have to get up early and do those... very early, since they need to set in the fridge, and she doesn't want to transport them when they're still not set. She groans quietly.
"Mmm?"
"I'll get up early and do the truffles," she mutters.
"They're done, babe."
She blinks in surprise. "You did them?"
"Yeah. In the fridge."
"Really?"
"Mmm. Yeah. Wasn't too hard. Ate a couple."
"Oh." She cups his cheek, and he turns his head to kiss her palm. "You're pretty awesome, Ned."
He chuckles. "You looked so tired. Go back to sleep, hon."
There was a time, and it doesn't feel so long ago, when she thought he wouldn't be understanding, when she thought he would just be impatient and irritated by her career and her need to help people. He had a half-day at work, like people at more conventional jobs, but she had too much to do. And it's important to her, so important, that she does everything she can to contribute to their relationship and their families. She just doesn't always have the energy or the time to do everything she wants.
And he helped her. He's not impatient with her. He doesn't resent it.
Of everything in her life, he has long been the person she is most thankful for.
"I love you," she whispers, nestling against his chest, breathing him in.
"Mmm. Love you too," he murmurs, pulling her closer.