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“Wow! That’s a huge turkey,” Jeremy flapped his arms as if it was eight feet wide.
Miranda did her best not to laugh.
It wasn’t that big, but it was Dillinger. She’d slept much better these last few nights without his shrieking two a.m. gobbles outside her island window.
She’d made the turkey and stuffing.
Jeremy had brought wine from Oregon and Washington vineyards, “That Cassidy Knowles blog rated these just super high.” And she’d been right; they were very good and Miranda was feeling just a little bit loose already.
Holly had claimed “no skills with that stuff” and found an unlikely place called the Australian Pie Company close by the SeaTac airport.
“They specialize in meat pies—no real wonder—they’re from Oz after all. But I got us a whole box of their dessert treats for la
