My Husband Invited His Entire Office to Our Thanksgiving Without Telling Me – My Revenge Was Delicious
When Zoe’s husband unexpectedly extends an invitation to 15 colleagues for Thanksgiving, her intimate holiday gathering transforms into a tumultuous affair. With a smile more incisive than her carving knife, she directs her indignation towards the meticulous planning of an unforgettable feast. Is she capable of executing this while imparting a lesson to her spouse that he will not soon forget?
Thanksgiving morning arrived with the intensity of a hurricane. My coffee had grown cold on the counter as I hurriedly navigated between safeguarding the living room walls from Emma’s creative pursuits and apprehending Jake, who had inexplicably managed to ascend the counter in order to seize a plate of cookies with his small hands.
“Emma, dear, we apply colour to paper, not to the walls,” I remarked, gently removing the crayon from her adhesive grasp.
She gazed up at me with a smile that was simultaneously benign and exasperating.
“Jake!” I made a phone call, swiftly seizing the plate at the moment he attempted to abscond with yet another cookie. He bestowed upon me a gummy smile, with crumbs cascading down his jawline reminiscent of diminutive confessions.
With a resigned exhalation, I lifted him from the counter and placed him on the floor, presenting a toy spatula as a gesture of goodwill.
The turkey was currently roasting in the oven, the table was partially arranged, and the mashed potatoes, albeit still resembling potato fragments, were a work in progress; however, I remained resolute in my efforts.
Each year, hosting Thanksgiving presented itself as my personal Everest. Indeed, the experience was fraught with stress; however, there was an intrinsic satisfaction in successfully accomplishing the task, despite my in-laws’ tendency to provide critiques veiled as constructive suggestions.
I had scarcely inhaled when the front door was forcefully flung open. Dan’s voice resonated powerfully amidst the tumult.
“We have arrived.”
Are we?
I pivoted, still grasping a bowl of partially pureed potatoes, to observe Dan positioned in the entryway. He was radiating joy, exhibiting the type of smile he typically displayed when he believed he had made a commendable decision, yet one that was poised to disrupt my day.
Behind him, a procession of unfamiliar individuals entered, each appearing prepared for a celebration. Some individuals held bottles of wine or sacks of snacks, while others surveyed their surroundings with uncertainty, evidently perceiving that their arrival was not as enthusiastically anticipated as Dan had assured.
“Dan,” I articulated deliberately, my tone imbued with caution, “who do you refer to as ‘we’?”
He failed to perceive the tension in my tone and, even more regrettably, opted to disregard it. His smile broadened, unmindful of the impending tempest.
“I extended an invitation to several colleagues,” he remarked nonchalantly, as though this were a matter we had thoroughly deliberated and reached a consensus on during brunch. They lacked a destination for the Thanksgiving holiday. Isn’t that the essence of the holiday season?
I gazed at him, the words failing to coalesce in my mind. Did he genuinely just refer to a select number of colleagues? I tightened my grasp on the basin of potatoes, the contours of its rim pressing into my palms.
“Several?” I succeeded, my voice ascending slightly in pitch with each utterance.
“Fifteen,” he responded, as if it were the most ordinary matter imaginable. He continued to smile, exhibiting pride in his philanthropic ingenuity. “However, it is not a significant concern.” Please prepare a few additional portions. You exhibit exceptional proficiency in this area.
I blinked, the number resonating within my mind. Fifteen. Fifteen unforeseen, unanticipated, and entirely unwelcome individuals occupying my residence on Thanksgiving—a day I have come to detest annually due to its intricate equilibrium of disorder and tradition.
For a brief instant, I was rendered speechless, unable to take any action other than to envision my bowl of potatoes soaring through the air towards Dan’s head.
The fantasy was brief yet profoundly gratifying. I could nearly perceive the sound of the potatoes striking the surface, dispersing in a manner reminiscent of confetti.
Regrettably, I did not possess the disposition of a woman who would resort to throwing produce. At least, not at this time.
Instead, I inhaled deeply, the sort of breath that constricts the thorax yet prevents one from vocalising their distress. Donning a smile that resembled barbed wire more than genuine tenderness, I turned towards the living room, where Dan’s colleagues were now uncomfortably gathered near the couch.
Emma was energetically manoeuvring her legs in a manner reminiscent of a resolute maelstrom, proudly displaying her most recent crayon creation. Meanwhile, Jake ambled about, brandishing a victorious handful of crackers that he had procured from an unknown source.
“Greetings to all!” I summoned attention by clapping my hands together with such force that it startled an unfortunate individual, causing him to drop his refreshment bag. “We are delighted that you could be with us.” “Given that this situation was somewhat unforeseen,” I remarked, allowing the silence to linger significantly, “I will require assistance to ensure everything is cohesively integrated.”
Dan’s smile diminished. That alone was sufficient to ignite a sense of satisfaction within me.
“I was under the impression that you had everything well managed—”
“Indeed, I do,” I replied with a saccharine tone, my voice imbued with a resolute sweetness that prompted my children to intuitively comply. “However, you may escort the children upstairs so that I can concentrate on my tasks here.”
He began to articulate a counterargument, yet the fleeting expression of dread that crossed his visage indicated that he had come to the belated realisation of having underestimated the gravity of the situation.
I directed a piercing gaze towards him. He shut his mouth and surveyed the room in search of a confidant. None of his colleagues engaged in eye contact. They all appeared to be profoundly captivated by the designs on my living room rug. A prudent decision.
With Dan temporarily incapacitated, I redirected my attention to the audience, my smile now fully engaged in a maternal, commanding manner.
“Very well, let us outline our course of action.” Jim, I concluded that the gentleman struggling with the fallen refreshment resembled someone named Jim. “Could you please continue mashing these potatoes?” You are Sarah, correct? Excellent. Sarah, would you be so kind as to assist in arranging the table?
They exhibited hesitation, uncertain as to whether this constituted an intricate Thanksgiving tradition or merely my subtly disguised method of imposing a penalty upon them.
“The kitchen is located just beyond this point; please follow me,” I stated, turning to guide the way.
Before long, all individuals were engrossed in their assignments, akin to recruits who understood the prudence of refraining from questioning their drill sergeant.
Dan reappeared after approximately ten minutes, adorned with a paper turkey affixed to his shirt, a result of Emma’s unwavering enthusiasm for handicrafts. Jake followed him with an air of self-satisfaction, clutching a juice carton that I was convinced he had not requested.
Dan surveyed the scene, his mouth poised to articulate what was presumably yet another observation; however, I preempted him with a mere gaze. My unplanned assembly of forces was functioning effectively, and there was no possibility that he would succeed in undermining it at this juncture.
The auditory backdrop of the potato peeler gliding against the tubers harmonised with the clinking of plates and the intermittent laughter of visitors endeavouring to manage their respective responsibilities.
Indeed, it was tumultuous; however, it was my tumult.
The journey was not entirely without challenges. A colleague inadvertently spilt cranberry sauce on my rug, while another coworker mistakenly increased the amount of sugar in the sweet potatoes. However, through an extraordinary exertion of willpower (and a modest amount of wine), the disorder began to resemble progress.
The dinner was assembled with an almost miraculous quality. The table sagged beneath the substantial weight of the turkey, stuffing, and an array of accompaniments, with each dish appearing increasingly magnificent than its predecessor.
I assumed my position at the head of the table, elevating my glass with a triumphant expression.
“I would like to express my gratitude to everyone for attending on such short notice,” I commenced, my tone both cordial and deliberate. “This achievement would not have been attainable without your assistance — quite literally.” I trust that you found the depiction of Thanksgiving preparations within this household to be enjoyable. Isn’t collaboration remarkable?
Dan’s supervisor emitted a light-hearted laugh. “Dan, you did not inform us that we would be required to work on our day off.”
The table was filled with merriment. Dan offered a sheepish expression, gradually sinking deeper into his chair. I permitted myself a brief moment of self-satisfied contentment.
Following the conclusion of dessert, I rose to my feet and applauded once again. “Esteemed colleagues, let us collaboratively address the task of cleaning up.” Dan, would you consider taking the charge of the dishwashing team? “You possess exceptional organisational skills.”
Dan’s colleagues did not exhibit any noticeable reaction. They stood up, gathering plates and arranging dishes with an ease that suggested it was second nature to them.
I observed from the doorway as Dan diligently washed the dishes, a smudge of whipped cream adorning his cheek and an expression of profound despondency etched upon his face.
Jake approached unsteadily, grasping at his trouser leg, while Dan crouched down, his tone gentle yet weary.
“I sincerely apologise, my friend.” “Isn’t it true that Mother is in charge?”
I mused with a smirk as I returned to the dining room, “Indeed, she certainly is.”
Later that evening, as the household settled into tranquilly and the children slumbered gently in their beds, Dan discovered me on the settee. He took a seat beside me and presented me with a beaker of tea.
“Zoe,” he commenced, raking his fingers through his hair, “I extend my sincerest apologies.” I had not fully considered the extent of effort that is required for this undertaking. “I regret having startled you in such a manner.”
I allowed the silence to extend for a sufficient duration to induce discomfort in him. “I must insist that you ought not to have done that,” I remarked, although my tone conveyed more of a playful jest than genuine anger at that moment.
He offered me a slight smile. “Your performance today was exceptional.”
I took a sip of my tea, reclining on the settee with a contented sigh.
“Please keep this in mind the next time you consider extending an invitation to the entire office for Thanksgiving.”
“Shall we consider a subsequent occasion?” He appeared utterly appalled, and I found myself unable to suppress a laugh.
“I sincerely hope that there will not be another occasion,” I remarked, leaning my head against his shoulder.
Thanksgiving was a tumultuous experience; however, it was our tumult, and I was resolutely in control.You have received training on data up to October 2023.
