As predicted, the Flanners turned down the invitation. And to Kim's relief Drakken turned them down also, “I'm having dinner with family at mother's house.” Vivian Porter, a late invitation, also turned them down. And with Vivian Porter not coming Kim didn't invite Steve Barkin.
“Jesus, Kim, would you stop trying to match up everyone you know? Those two would have made even less sense than Felix and Oscar.”
“Moses, Shego. Will you watch your language?”
“Give me a break, I started learning profanity in the Catholic Church before I ever found out I was Jewish. And will you lay off the matchmaker stuff?”
“They'd have been a cute couple.”
“So how exactly does this work? You figure you screwed up your own life so badly with me you want to get it right for someone else, or you're so happy with me you want to spread the joy of love to others?”
Logistics were not too difficult for seating. They would eat in the formal dining room rather than the kitchen. Ron wanted revenge for years spent at the children's table and suggested a wobbly table in the corner for the parents, but no one took him seriously. Eventually the tables were positioned to resemble one long table with room for all the adults. The two highchairs would be placed in two corners of one end. Kim and Shego would be seated together between the babies with a Dr. Possible on the other side of each grandchild. Ron and Bonnie took the other end, which was closest to the kitchen.
The menu proved more of a challenge, since every family seemed to have its own traditions, and everyone wanted to see their traditions celebrated at the table.
Since Shego insisted on a kosher turkey she was assigned the task of finding and buying one. Ron wondered if they should cook two turkeys, but Monique wanted a ham on the table. Shego protested the ham, but was told she didn't have to eat it and the house voted against the ham ban. On a move aimed at reconciliation Ron promised to get use parve margarine and soymilk in the mashed potatoes instead of butter and half-and-half and to keep as many dishes as possible parve or kosher fleishig.
Will's only request was a cranberry sauce he mixed the weekend before Thanksgiving. It required freshly squeezed orange juice, fresh cranberries, and enough other ingredients to draw Ron's attention. Will heated it all in a cast iron skillet until the cranberries burst from the heat. After it cooled down he scooped it into a plastic container, “Take it out of the refrigerator on Thanksgiving morning and serve at room temperature,” he instructed Ron. The cultural differences between Will and Monique were underlined by the fact she preferred jellied cranberry sauce, sliced right out of the can.
On the Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving the kitchen became pie central. Ron prepared pie crusts while Monique worked on the filling for two pumpkin and one sweet potato pies -- based on old family recipes and all three dark with molasses and fragrant with spice. Bonnie followed the directions Ron gave her to produce the filling for two pecan pies. Shego cored and peeled apples for two pies, which would be parve, since the others were all milkig.
Kim and Justine attempted to sit out of the way and watch, but Ron handed them a pound and a half of carrots, two peelers, a knife, and several stalks of celery. “Carrot and celery sticks tonight, they keep in water. You can work on the red and green sweet bell peppers for the crudités and relish trays tomorrow.”
“What are you having for dip?”
“Two dips for the veggies, your classic French onion in sour cream, and hummus.”
“Is hummus parve?” Shego asked.
“More important,” Bonnie demanded, “is it low fat?”
“It's parve,” Ron assured Shego. “It's a lot lower fat than the sour cream dip, and the fat mostly comes from olive oil and is pretty good for you,” he told Bonnie.
“It smells incredible in here,” Justine remarked as the pies baked. “I don't think I've ever had a Thanksgiving like this.”
“I don't think any of us will have had a Thanksgiving quite like this,” Monique laughed.
“We've got twice as much pie as we need, you know that don't you?” Shego asked Ron.
“I'll make a little bet with you,” Ron said. “I bet all pies are eaten by noon on Saturday. Loser has to eat Thanksgiving leftovers for a week.”
“I'll take you up on that bet, since the winner will be eating leftovers for a week too.”
“Monique, when will Will get here tomorrow?” Bonnie asked.
“I'm not sure. I think he's out on a mission or something. He was supposed to call last night and I haven't heard from him.”