Thanksgiving dinner at my house looked like it would be regular family fun like always. But when my mother-in-law, Linda, walked in clutching her sweater tightly, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was hiding something. And I was right.
There was something under her shirt and it left us all speechless.
She just wasn’t acting herself.
Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. There’s something about gathering everyone around the table, sharing stories, and indulging in dishes you’ve perfected over the years.
My husband, Jeff, teases me about it, calling me “the turkey perfectionist,” but I know he secretly loves it as much as I do.
Jeff and I met seven years ago through a mutual friend at work.
Back then, I was skeptical about blind setups, but the moment we started talking, I knew I wanted to know him better.
We clicked instantly, moving from casual coffee dates to full-on dinners within weeks. Meeting each other’s families soon followed.
Jeff’s parents, Linda and Ronny, seemed like the kind of in-laws you hoped for.
Ronny was a warm, affable man who made me feel welcome from day one. He had this knack for making you laugh even when you didn’t feel like it.
