Phoenix rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen, sighing when he saw his wife, Maya Fey-Wright, standing in front of the stove, stirring one thing or another. He crept up behind the woman and wrapped his arms around her.
"Hasn't the doctor told you that you need to stay off your feet?" He said, resting his head on her shoulder.
Shifting her eyes for a moment, Maya smiled. "He has, but isn't it traditionally the wife who cooks Thanksgiving dinner?"
"It is. But exceptions can be made, my dear." He slid his hand over her protruding belly. "You certainly haven't been using little Mia here to get out of enough."
"Mr. Wright," Maya said, placing her wooden spoon in the pot of gravy she was stirring and turning around to face her husband. "I am offended that you think I would use my unborn daughter to get out of doing things I don't want to do."
Phoenix smiled and took hold of her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. "Be that as it may, Mrs. Wright, I believe you have earned yourself a rest. I have the Thanksgiving special of the Steel Samurai loaded on the TV and Pearls and Luke should be here shortly. And I know how much you like to torment Mr. Triton with that asinine show."
Maya smiled and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "You know me so well." She pulled from the embrace and took off her apron, handing it to the man. "The turkey should be done in a few minutes. Just keep stirring the gravy until then."
Phoenix sighed as he tied the apron around his waist. "Yes, dear."
With that, Maya waddled to the living room, leaving Phoenix alone with his thoughts.
A loving wife, two beautiful daughters, and a third one on the way… What don't I have to be thankful for?