Happy Thanksgiving!

So I really wanted to write something special for our Edward and Bella, especially since these two have been having such a hard time lately. But what's Thanksgiving without something inevitably going wrong?

So I present to you: "Edward and Bella's Thanksgiving Fiasco"

This takes place five years in the future, so Edward is 22 and Bella 21. The first chapter of this story is four years after this. (Just to give you a timeline).

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

xxx

2011 Thanksgiving Day: New York- Bella and Edward's Apartment

The large turkey sits on the counter, practically taking up the entire tiny kitchen.

Okay Bella, it's game time baby. You can do this.

The more I look at the turkey, the more it feels like it's mocking me. I mean, even though you've never cooked Thanksgiving dinner before, it's only just the two of you, so it can't be that bad right?

The dirty dishes piling like Mount Everest catch the corner of my eye. I should probably deal with that first, you know, that way I won't be as stressed.

Scrubbing pan after pan, I catch the clock. Shit, it's already 8. Thank god Edward's volunteering. Edward has been volunteering at the soup kitchen every Thanksgiving Day for the past 3 years. It's not my thing, but his generosity, passion for others, and complete selfless attitude is part of why I love him. Thinking back on how we got here, the amount of pain we both put each other through, I can't help but feel grateful how things played out, that I got to keep him.

A smile unfolds on my face with the pleasant memories of the two of us. As I load the last dish in the crappy dishwasher, I reach under the sink, to the container where the tabs are, and…

Nothing.

No tabs.

Shit. Of all the things to run out of, and today of all days.

Placing my hands on my hips, I stare at the dishwasher frowning. Oh wait! Esme did say you could use dish soap if it's an emergency. Grabbing the bottle of Dawn, I pour the liquid into the little cubby, close and start the dishwater.

Grabbing another pot, I pour about 4 inches of water and put it on the stove top and turn it on high. I grab a couple of cinnamon sticks, orange rinds I had peeled earlier, nutmeg and ginger and throw all those in the pan. Within 5 minutes the comforting spicy and citrus smell wafts throughout the apartment.

Another great tip from Esme.

Feeling much more calm, I baste the turkey and toss it into the pre-heated oven.

Things are going to be fine. God, I hope Edward is happy when he gets home. We had decided to stay home for Thanksgiving, giving the excuse that he couldn't take the extra time off. Truthfully, we decided to stay home because we just didn't want to pretend this year. The holidays are always stressful for us, the same questions- "have you met someone yet" then inevitably "Well, you're not getting any younger, and I want grand-babies," even though we're only 21 and 22.

I need a cup of coffee. Turning around to get a mug from the counter, my eyes widen in horror. Large, foaming bubbles are erupting from the dishwasher cascading to the floor, completely covering the ugly tiles. Oh. My. God.

"Fuck!"

Running to the bathroom where we keep the towels, I grab a few and run back. Somehow, in the span of 30 seconds, those damn bubbles are everywhere. I frantically hit the cancel button, but nothing happens. Finally I just pry open the dishwasher. Water, bubbles and hot steam explode in my face, drenching the floor beneath me. I throw down the towels, trying to soak and wipe up the bubbles as quickly as possible.

It's not working. You've got to be kidding me! Of course this would happen, because you're Bella fucking Swan, that's why! Running back to the bathroom to get more towels, I race back to the kitchen and throw down more towels.

But it seems it doesn't matter how many towels I use, the bubbles are winning this war. Sweat pours into my eyes, my clothes are completely soaked. Glancing back up to the clock, I realize it's been over an hour. Oh my god! It's already nearly 10! Edward's going to be home in just a few hours!

Glancing around the kitchen, I spot the mop.

"Okay, maybe dry mopping this will fix it," I say aloud.

Taking two steps, I grab the mop and get to work but even though it helps some, it seems to only spread the bubbles across the floor, not actually soaking them up.

"Ugh!" I yell as I toss the useless mop to the side.

Whatever, I need to check the turkey.

Stomping over to the oven I open it.

The heating element is out.

I just stare at the inside of my oven, with eyes glazed over.

"You have got to be kidding me!" I scream.

Slamming the oven door shut, I stomp to our room, peel off my soaked clothing before throwing on a pair of sweats and a hoodie.

Just fuck it. Goddamn fucking Thanksgiving. I should just quit.

Edward's disappointed face pops into my head. Guilt slams into me. I really wanted this day to perfect for him, especially since I know he misses his family. We staying home was more for me than him. Letting out a sigh, I brave the kitchen again. Pulling out the turkey, I place it on the counter and stare at it.

"You will get cooked one way or another," I say with a determined tone.

Suddenly an awful smell permeates in the air, I turn around and see smoke coming from the pot of boiling water. Running over to the stove, the alarm goes off as I turn off the burner. I turn on the microwave fan and quickly disable the alarm before opening up our tiny window.

Running back to the pot, the entire bottom is a complete cracked, charcoal mess.

Stress, anger and disappointment start welling up inside of me. Grabbing the edge of the counter, I lean down and take a large breath to try to calm down.

Instead I get a lungful of nasty smelling smoke.

Coughing violently, I stumble back.

"Fuck!" I scream as I pull at my hair.

Then, because of course this would happen, my foot slips on the wet floor. I grasp at the counter to try to catch myself, but my hand grabs the edge of the turkey pan as I fall to the floor and the turkey comes crashing down on my head coating my head, face and body with raw turkey juice and butter.

Turkey on my back, me sprawled out belly up on the dirty, wet kitchen floor, there's only one thing I'm capable of doing. I cry.

And my tiny cries turn into full on sobbing.

The door to the apartment opens. I see his shoes. Welcome home Honey, I mean I know I'm a complete sobbing mess in an equally wrecked kitchen, but hey, Happy Thanksgiving!

Edward's hand pull me up to a sitting position with him crouching in front of me. He grabs the hand towel and gently wipes my face and smiles at me warmly.

"It seems you've had quite the morning Love," he says.

A little hiccup escapes my lips before I start crying all over again.

"I just wanted everything to be perfect!" I wail. "Then I ran out of dish tabs, and Esme said I could use Dawn, but the stupid dishwasher is so shitty and," I gesture wildly to the floor. "Then the oven element went out and while I was trying to deal with all that, the pot of water burned off and I nearly set the place on fire!" I continue wailing loudly. "I mean who does this happen to! Obviously me! Thanksgiving hates me!" I wail before he pulls me into his arms. "Don't," I say with a sniffle. "I'm going to get nasty turkey juice on you."

He just grabs me tighter. Rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"It's okay Bella, I promise," he whispers.

He holds me a little while longer before he helps me to a standing position.

"Why don't you get into the shower, and I'll get this under control," he says before hugging me again.

"I ruined Thanksgiving," I say with a hiccup.

He laughs, all hearty and it warms me from the inside out.

"Oh Love, come here," he says pulling me in again. "You didn't ruin anything, everything is going to be fine," he says before leading me to the bathroom.

He helps me out of my ruined clothes and turns the shower. I step inside and wash my face, scrubbing away all the raw turkey juice. Edward opens the curtain a little and grabs my hand and pulls me a little towards him. He grasps my chin in his hand and kisses me softly before pulling back.

"Chinese?" He asks.

I laugh a little.

"Yeah," I say.

After finishing my shower, I put on some cozy sweats and go head to our small living room. I sit on the kitchen as he hands me a carton of Lo Mein. His hand caresses my face before he leans in and kisses me hard.

"What am I going to do with you," he says smiling against my mouth.

"I can think of a few things," I say.

He groans into my mouth, pulling my hoodie over my head. It's all hands, skin on skin, kisses and heat.

The Chinese is forgotten.

This is the best Thanksgiving ever.

I had so much fun writing this! When I was thinking about what to write, I really wanted something lighthearted and fun (especially since I know that some of you will have at least one Thanksgiving fail!)

One quick question- are you guys a Pumpkin Pie people, Pecan Pie people or Apple Pie people? (Personally, I'm Pumpkin Pie all the way!)

Anyways, happy Thanksgiving Friends! Hope you enjoyed some yummy food and had fun spending time with loved ones! Until tomorrow!