Thanksgiving Tales

Part 2: Girls of Greed with Pie

I only had three pies to choose from. The obvious choices—lemon meringue, cherry, apple baked by Grandma—sat on a white stone-topped kitchen island in Lamar. So I took the pumpkin classic and wandered to the seat of my dinner humiliation. Kellie followed me carrying a slice of chocolate silk pie. Normally I picked off my mother’s plate and she off mine, a twenty-five year tradition. In her absence I turned to Kel and proposed we share our desserts. She agreed.

We both thoughtfully savored our first bites. With my mind on the pumpkin my eyes spied a generous serving of banana cream on a plate touching my own. I assume Kellie had similar thought because she looked from pie to me to pie to me before questioning which family member would leave it unattended.

I scanned the crowded kitchen and saw everyone holding a plate. Clearly the pie lay unclaimed, inviting the stakes of our forks. We snuck a few more cautious glances before pulling the plate in as part of the shared pie platter.

Our forks broke sections off for us to enjoy. I imagine our joy would have been more so had Jessica not walked up just then asking for her banana cream pie. Smiling through mouthfuls of bananas and pudding Kellie and I surrendered the stolen slice.

“You just ate someone’s dessert?!,” Chris cried incredulously. “You didn’t ask whose it was?”

Yes. Guilty. We ate it. In our defense Kellie and I offered to share what was left of our own pies. Jess hates pumpkin.