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

“This is humiliating,” Vivien said, flour in her hair and defeat in her voice. “Absolutely humiliating. The Sanders are going to think we’re incompetent.”

“Maybe we should just cancel,” Hudson suggested weakly.

“Cancel? Cancel? We cannot cancel Thanksgiving dinner at 1:00 p.m. on Thanksgiving Day. Do you have any idea what people will think?”

But Hudson was beginning to realize that what people thought was the least of his problems.

The doorbell rang like a death knell.

Hudson opened the door to find Cousin Cynthia and her new boyfriend standing on the porch with a bottle of wine and expectant smiles.

“Something smells… interesting,” Cynthia said, sniffing the air with obvious confusion. Instead of the rich aromas of a Thanksgiving feast, the house smelled like raw onions and panic sweat.

“We’re running a little behind schedule,” Hudson said, his voice strained with false cheerfulness.

More cars pulled into the driveway—Uncle Raymond with his arms full of backup dishes, the Sanders with their six-year-old son and obvious expectations of the high-class dinner Vivien had promised them. Cousin after cousin, friend after friend, all arriving to find Hudson standing in the doorway, looking like he was greeting mourners at a funeral.