Charlotte dashed into the kitchen as the oven timer went off. “Dawson!” she called as she saw the smoke rising from the vents at the back of the stovetop. That wasn’t good. She’d cooked in the oven several times, and she had no idea what she’d done wrong.
He came in from the deck too, just as she opened the oven and a super-heated blast of smoke got released.
She jumped back, coughing and waving the oven mitts in front of her face. So this turkey was not going to be edible.
“What happened?” he asked as if she could see through all the smoke.
“I don’t know.” But they wouldn’t be eating dinner at the house that night. “My parents will be here in fifteen minutes.” She’d made mashed potatoes, creamed corn, and bought rolls and Hawaiian fruit jam to go with them.
“Maybe it’s okay.” Dawson
