My mother-in-law told me to get up at 4 a.m. to cook Thanksgiving dinner for her 30 guests. My husband added, “This time, remember to make everything really perfect!” I smiled and replied, “Of course.” At 3 a.m., I took my suitcase to the airport. – usnews 0/2

Hudson, who had spent the last hour watching YouTube videos about turkey preparation while growing increasingly panicked, looked up from his phone with desperate hope.

“Can we cook them faster somehow? Higher temperature?”

“Hudson, darling, you cannot rush a twenty-pound turkey. Physics doesn’t bend to accommodate your wife’s abandonment issues.”

They worked in tense silence for the next hour, Vivien barking instructions while Hudson fumbled through tasks that Isabella had always made look effortless. The stuffing ingredients sat in bowls, looking like components for a science experiment neither of them understood. The green bean casserole recipe might as well have been written in ancient Greek.

“Where is the stand mixer?” Vivien demanded, rifling through cabinets.

“I don’t know. Isabella always handles the kitchen stuff.”

“Well, Isabella isn’t here, is she?”

At noon, Hudson’s phone started ringing with calls from relatives asking about arrival times and dietary restrictions. Each conversation became more uncomfortable than the last.