CHARLOTTE~•~I’d looked forward to hosting Thanksgiving all year, but when the day finally came, I dreaded it.I’d never hosted Thanksgiving so I didn’t think I needed to do much work until the day actually came. If I had known it would be this stressful, I would have hired caterers to do the job, but I didn’t so I was stuck cooking. Well, Alexander and I were stuck with cooking.Briella offered to help since she had arrived early with George, but we pointed her to the table and asked her to set it. I wanted to figure it out by myself so I’d be more confident to host in the upcoming years.A few hours later, the house smelled like roasted turkey and the sweetness of cinnamon from the pies cooling on the counter. I stood in the middle of the kitchen, an apron tied around my waist, stirring the gravy while trying not to let the chaos of the day overwhelm me. Nyla and George raced through the living room, their laughter echoing around the house. At six years old and in first grade, the
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