three hours later changed the way his entire family treated me.
The first criticism came before anyone bothered to welcome me into the house.
“That turkey looks dry,” Renee announced.
She was my sister-in-law, and she’d apparently decided to judge Thanksgiving dinner before it had even been carved.
I stood in my in-laws’ kitchen, still wearing my winter coat, struggling to balance the heavy roasting platter.
I’d been awake since five that morning.
The turkey had required nearly five hours of preparation and cooking, followed by a forty-minute drive across
