When it came time for dessert, the apple pie was missing. We ate pumpkin pie, chocolate pie, and cookies, and then we searched and searched. We suspected Paul. We suspected all the kids, even Mara. Then, sometime after a supper of leftovers and cheesecake, Karl deduced that the pie must have fallen behind a piece of furniture in the flurry of getting a massive turkey dinner ready. And so it had. The day was saved! But by then no one had even a smidge of room left in their tummies for apple pie. Tomorrow, little pie. Tomorrow.
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