Month 4: November 22

"Okay. I think we're ready." I surveyed the table, set with Cam's porcelain china. A sense of pride came over me.

Everything had been placed flawlessly. The scene looked like a Hallmark movie. There was a twenty-one pound turkey, roasted to a deep bronze and smothered in seasoning. A glass bowl of mashed potatoes. Gravy. Cranberry sauce. Green beans. Sweet potatoes. Homemade pumpkin pie. Corn on the Cob. Everything I could possibly think of had been baked, cooked, grilled, or fried. It was perfect.

Cammie walked into our dining room, her hands placed over her growing stomach. She was starting to show, and it made me smile.

"Wow." She breathed. I pulled her to my side. "You really outdid yourself babe. This is amazing."

I couldn't help beam a bit. I'd never had a real Thanksgiving. My family was a lost cause and all the previous years I'd been with Cammie were incredibly busy with work. We'd never gotten a chance to fly out west to Nebraska and spend it at her grandparents. But now Bex, Grant, Cam's grandparents, Mrs. Morgan, Abby, Joe, and their little girl Emma had come to visit. This was my first Thanksgiving. It had to be perfect.

"I'll go get everyone." She said, turning into the hallway that led towards our living room. Something caught her eye on the edge of the table and she stopped in her tracks.

"What?" I asked. Something was wrong. A part of me broke into panic.

She pointed at a tray I'd arranged with assorted vegetables. The look on her face was pained, like it hurt her to unnerve me on my first Turkey Day. "Are… are those all the vegetables?"

I frowned. "Yes."

"Oh." She said simply. It was obvious by the way she stood there, fiddling with her shirt sleeve, that something was missing. Something wasn't right.

"Tell me."

"Huh?"

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Oh nothing's wrong Zach. The dinner looks wonderful. I should gather the family before anything gets cold." She tried to leave but I grabbed her hand.

"Cameron, if this dinner isn't perfect all that work will be for nothing."

She rolled her eyes. "That's ridiculous. You've spent all day in that kitchen and you did an absolutely brilliant job. This is by far the most delicious-looking Thanksgiving feast I've ever seen."

She turned again, but now my thoughts were driving me mad. Something was missing.

"Tell me." I begged.

"Zach, everything's perfect! C'mon, I want you to enjoy this!"

"But now I can't. Something's missing."

"Don't be silly. I just told you-"

I cut her off. "You lied."

She grimaced, knowing a lie had been hopeless to begin with. "…Fine."

"So tell me."

Her mumble was so low not even my trained ears could hear the word.

"Cam." I pushed on.

"Pickles." She pointed at the silver tray.

I must have heard her wrong. Pickles? You don't eat pickles for Thanksgiving… do you? I was no holiday expert, but that didn't seem right.

"Did you say pickles?" I had to clarify.

"Yes. Pickles."

"Are you sure?" This seemed so wrong.

She frowned. "Let's just eat. Okay? I'm hungry." But now she seemed agitated, like she was in the middle of an all-out mental war.

"No no. We can get pickles. Just give me ten minutes and I'll pick some up from the store."

"You really don't need to do that Zach." She told me as I moved to leave.

Liar, I thought. I could already hear her sighing with relief behind me.

Everyone feasted without modesty. Even Mrs. Morgan. They scarfed down every crumb set on their plate. Each dish was brutally attacked and emptied. So this was Thanksgiving? Devouring course after course of home cooking? I could get used to this holiday.

I was happy to see that all the food was gobbled down and praised for delectability. All except for one. The pickles Cam had been so worried about went almost untouched. She stacked them on her plate continuously and popped them into her mouth, but otherwise they were avoided.

Abby had insisted that I needed help washing dishes, though I thought she was just trying to escape changing Emma's diaper.

"You did a truly wonderful job Zach. I swear, mom's cooking isn't even that good." Abby placed a couple spoons in the cabinet.

I smiled. It was great to finally be part of a family. "Thank you. I'm glad you guys were able to stuff it all down."

She laughed. "I just have one question."

"Yeah?"

"What was with the pickles?"

I turned to look at her. She was chuckling to herself. "What do you mean? Cammie said we needed pickles."

Abby shook her head. "I don't think we've ever had pickles at our Thanksgiving dinner. They really aren't a holiday food. Ya know?"

Yes. Yes, I knew. I pressed my lips together, stopping mid-scrub over the sink.

She glanced at me. "What's wrong?"

"I think maybe those pregnancy cravings are starting to kick in."

So I'm aware that this is two days late, and I apologize for it. Like me, you all have probably shifted in to Christmas mode already, but I really wanted to post something. So ta-da! Hope you liked it! Please review! I know I always say it, but I really do love to hear from you guys! Thank so much for reading and Happy Belated Thanksgiving! God bless.

~SpaceNut