Bob and Laura's Thanksgiving Dinner

One uncharacteristically-glorious November Sunday afternoon, Bob and Laura sat at Bob’s kitchen table, having a nice cup of coffee as they always did, talking about the upcoming week, as they always did.

“Bob,” said Laura, “Did you ever get a chance to make another pie?”

“No, hon,” Bob replied. “All of my pie filling was too old and I had to throw it out. But I sure would like to get some more some time. I still have that extra crust in the freezer from last week.”

(In a previous adventure, Bob and Laura had set out on a quest to make pie from canned pie filling Bob had found in the basement. Later, they realized the pie filling had been in the basement far too long, but that’s another story…)

“Say, Bob,” Laura asked, “What’s your favorite kind of pie?”

“Mmmm, I like me some coconut cream pie,” Bob replied. “And then there’s pumpkin pie, cherry pie…”

“Well then, I’m going to make you a coconut cream pie!” Laura proclaimed.

And then, inspired by visions of a coconut cream pie, it hit her. If Laura were to go to the trouble to make a coconut cream pie, it had better be good. It had better be FANTASTIC. It had better be from scratch. And one could not make a from-scratch, fantastic, coconut cream pie without all of one’s friend’s knowing about it, now could one? Otherwise it just wouldn’t be worth the trouble…

“Maybe we could just invite a few people over for coconut cream pie?” Laura thought aloud. “Bob, would you mind if we had a few people over to your house, if I make coconut cream pie?”

“Why sure hon, that’d be fine,” Bob replied, as he picked up the wooden tee brain-teaser game sitting on the table and began to play.

Laura watched him for a moment, as she took one last sip from her "We love you, Grandpa!" picture mug. She thought aloud as she walked to the coffee pot for a refill:

“Hmmm, say Bob, Thanksgiving is coming up.... and you know I won't be here because I’m going home. But I'd love to still celebrate with you... What would you say to the idea of doing a little Thanksgiving dinner here at your house?” she paused, watching his face for a reaction.

Bob lifted his head, and a plastic tee, and glanced through the thick of his glasses, "That sounds real nice honey, we can do that."

Laura continued as she poured creamer into her coffee and stirred it from a deep walnut hue to a milky chocolate:

“Let's see...my friends from work have been wanting to meet you… oh and we need to invite Pastor Steve and his family to show them our appreciation for all they do. Hmmm," she paused to take another sip of we can’t forget about the Maxwells--- you remember they said they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving with family?” Laura paused, studying the yellow-flowered wallpaper that had yet to lose its grip after 20 years of use. “Why don’t we do Thanksgiving for all the people we love and want to show we care, and maybe some of the ones who don’t get to have a large family meal?”

“Why that’d be fine, hon,” Bob smiled. “Let’s see we need to invite Johnny and Carol..."

As she sat back down at the table, Laura set down her coffee, and reaching for a nearby pen and the back of discarded envelope, began to scribble profusely.

"Put Harvey and Joyce down. I’d like to have Harvey and Joyce---”

“---Oh! I know, what about Paul? And the Lilly’s?” Laura chattered, excitedly now.

“What about Jeff and Faye? Don't forget Ahmed is by himself these days, we better have him over, too. Sweetheart, how many people is that?” Bob queried.

“Hmmm, let’s see--- six, ten…er, oh and I almost forgot--- …” Laura continued to tally the list, as she glanced nervously across the table at Bob. “Ew, let’s see, it looks like we’re up to…18?”

“Well that’s ok, hon, we’ve had a whole houseful before, we’ve got plenty of room. And we’ve got the downstairs too,” Bob offered, staring down the last 4 tees left on the wooden triangle.

“Well, in that case,” as she struck out names on the list, “Let’s just invite the whole church…”

“That’s fine, hon. Sounds good to me,” Bob laughed, then, under his breath, as he left the two remaining pegs on the board,“Looks like I’m purty smart.”

“Ok, well let’s think about what we want on the menu,” Laura said, as she began scribbling another list on the page. “What do we want to serve?”

Without hesitating to look up, he began to list: “Coconut cream pie, pumpkin pie...”

“Ha ha, but of course. Do you prefer ham or turkey?”

Bob took a moment to adjust his "Don't forget my Senior discount" cap: “---Let’s do ham.”

“Oooh, and green bean casserole?”

“Yah, yah. We can get some of those little onion things to go on the top. And I’ve got a bunch of potatoes in a bag downstairs we can use.”

“Nice, ok mashed potatoes.... mmm, oh and fruit salad; this is simple enough. Yeah, we can do this Bob. This will be a good meal,” Laura assessed. Then cautiously, “Wait, have you ever cooked a ham before?”

“No, but it shouldn't be no problem. And we’ll go shopping on Saturday and get everything ready, if you can come up?” Bob tested.

“Of course. Yes, of course we can do this. It will be fine.” Laura said, reassuring herself as much as Bob. “This is perfect. I cannot wait! Bob, don’t you think this sounds like a good meal?”

Laura pushed the menu toward him as he peered through his bi-focals.

“Mmmph, it’ll make your hair grow,” Bob grinned.

And that, dear friends, is how a simple Sunday visit turned into a Thanksgiving feast for fifty.

Dinner’s at 6. Ya’ll come.