A Catered Thanksgiving Read Online Free PDF Page B

or extremely dry, and they’re flavorless. Except for the skin, of course.”
    Libby put the box with the pies in the van and wedged it between the other two boxes so it wouldn’t slide before replying. “ Chacun à su goût, as they like to say in French.”
    Then she and Bernie went back inside for another load. What with attending to a few last-minute details, it took them another fifteen minutes to load up the van. Then Libby took out her list of ingredients and read them off while Bernie looked to see that they had packed everything. This, they had painfully learned, was the best way to ensure that they didn’t forget anything. “No ingredient left behind,” was Libby’s motto.
    That accomplished, they both got in the van and fastened their seat belts. Bernie put the key in the ignition and turned it. The van made an odd clunking sound as it started up.
    â€œThis van is like an old lady,” Bernie observed as she pulled out into the street. “It’s always got something new wrong with it.”
    â€œI hope that something isn’t anything serious,” Libby said.
    Bernie crossed her fingers. “Me too.” Bernie knew they needed to get a new vehicle and soon, but whenever they’d saved up enough money, another emergency came along and they were back where they started again.
    Libby stared out the window as the van puttered along at thirty miles an hour. For the moment, the town looked deserted. All the shops on the main drag were closed, and there were just two or three other cars on the street besides theirs. It seemed as if everyone was either traveling to their destination or had already arrived. And, of course, the storm didn’t help things.
    â€œThis is what it would feel like to be the last person on earth,” Libby opined right before she spotted a figure in a parka and snow pants being pulled along the sidewalk by his or her golden retriever.
    Bernie didn’t respond. She was too busy concentrating on driving. The van was a little wobbly at the best of times, but when it was fully loaded, it got more so. Especially since the van’s all-weathers were almost bald. She slowed down to twenty-five miles an hour, and the van stopped sliding. The snow was coming straight at them now, and in addition to everything else, Bernie found it difficult to discern where the road ended and the sidewalk began. She hadn’t seen this kind of snow since she’d been caught in a blizzard in Buffalo ten years ago.
    â€œThis is bad,” Libby said as they turned right on Ash Street.
    Bernie just nodded. Then she reached over and turned on Pat Benatar. She needed the music to distract her. The driving got worse as they left Longely, the snow sweeping off the fields and across the roads, creating whiteouts.
    â€œWhy don’t you see what the weather channel says?” Libby suggested after fifteen minutes had gone by.
    â€œWhat’s the point?” Bernie snapped, squinting to better see the road. “I know what it’s going to say. That we’re in the middle of a friggin’ blizzard.”
    â€œHow long do you think it’s going to take us to get to Field’s house?”
    â€œAt the rate we’re traveling? Another ten or fifteen minutes.” Bernie patted the van’s dashboard. “I promise I’ll feed you premium gas if you get us there,” she cooed.
    Libby laughed. “It’s the getting back that’s worrying me.”
    â€œHopefully, the storm will have blown itself out by then,” Bernie responded as she turned onto Beechcroft Road. “I mean, this has to stop sometime, right?”
    â€œRight,” Libby said as she looked at the veil of white enshrouding the car.
    Bernie took one of her hands off the wheel to rub the back of her neck, which had grown stiff with tension. By her calculations, they had five more miles to go until they got to their destination, and it was