My 1st Thanksgiving with my ex-fiancée’s family. Everyone seemed obsessed with her mom’s “famous” pie. I took a bite, and it was amazing – almost too perfect.
Later that night, something shiny caught my eye in the trash. Curious, I picked it up, and my skin crawled. It was a packet of pre-made pie filling.
wasn’t the lie that bothered me most. It was the way everyone looked at her like she was some sort of baking goddess. My fiancée, Lara, leaned over and whispered, “See?
Told you my mom’s pie would blow your mind. She’s the best baker in the world.”
I nodded, swallowing guilt with every bite. What was I supposed to say?
“Actually, babe, your mom’s pie was brought to you by aisle 9 at Walmart?”
The thing is, it wasn’t just the pie. That little shiny packet opened a door. Over the next few days, I started noticing more things that didn’t quite line up.
Like how Diane always talked about her award-winning stuffing recipe. But I found a half-empty box of instant stuffing mix behind a stack of paper towels in the pantry. The “homemade” cranberry sauce?
Canned, just with extra orange peel tossed on top. Still, none of that would’ve mattered if not for what came next. On Saturday, two days after Thanksgiving, Lara and I were sitting on the porch sipping coffee.
It was chilly, and she was wrapped in one of her dad’s old flannel jackets. She was scrolling through her phone, smiling. “Mom’s pie is going viral again,” she said, handing me her phone.
“FoodieFam reposted it. Thousands of likes already.”
There it was: a perfectly lit photo of that infamous pie. “Handmade with love,” the caption said.
“A family recipe passed down through generations.”
couldn’t help myself. “Why does your mom pretend she makes it all from scratch when she doesn’t?”
Lara frowned. “What do you mean?”
I hesitated, but the words spilled out.
I told her about the pie filling packet, the stuffing box, even the cranberry sauce can. I tried to keep my tone gentle, but there was no way to sugarcoat it. She pulled the flannel tighter and stood up.
“So what? Are you trying to ruin Thanksgiving? You think it matters if she uses shortcuts?
Everyone loved the food.”
“I’m not saying it tasted bad. I’m just saying… it feels fake. She acts like it’s this sacred family thing.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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