Genres: Fluff, Holiday, Slice-Of-Life
Summary: Martha frets over the Thanksgiving menu after Clark invites his ‘rich boyfriend’ and his family home for the holiday.
Date Of Completion: November 22, 2016
Date Of Posting: November 30, 2016
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 788
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: In the spirit of the recent Thanksgiving holiday, have some fun with comicsverse Martha and Jonathan! :)
Is the mostest
She’s like a peach
Or a star
On the beach.
She’s like stardust
Like apple pie
In the sweet
Martha studied her recipe book. She made a few notations in pencil while she sipped her coffee. Jonathan came in from outside via the kitchen door, stamping his boots on the mat and slapping his hands together. A cold gust of air blew in and ruffled the blue-checked curtains at the window over the kitchen sink.
“Land sakes, it sure feels like winter’s coming!”
Martha smiled knowingly. Her husband’s use of old-fashioned sayings was deliberate, a private joke between the two of them.
“Leaves are pretty much off the trees now, though they turned late this year,” she commented.
“It’s that danged global warming.” Jonathan removed his boots and left them by the door as he shrugged off his jacket.
“Clark says the Arctic has less ice than ever.”
“Fools in Washington denying what’s right in front of their faces is typical.” Jonathan stuffed his gloves in his jacket pocket and hung it up, putting his hat on the next hook.
“Never changes.” Martha thought she would make some pumpkin bread tomorrow.
“Is that the Book?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
“Clark bringing his rich boyfriend this year?”
“Yes, and the rich boyfriend’s ward and butler.”
Jonathan chuckled as he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Who woulda thought he’d fall for the Batman?”
“Quite a surprise.” Martha made another notation. “Bruce likes pumpkin pie, right?”
Jonathan sipped his coffee. “Even if he doesn’t, there’ll be plenty of other kinds of pie.”
“That reminds me.” Martha fished a piece of paper out of her apron pocket. “I’ll need you to get these ingredients when you go into town tomorrow.”
Jonathan nodded as he sipped his coffee. The kitchen was warm and sunny with its yellow walls, green plants on the windowsill, and a refrigerator with a collection of magnets that included the symbols for Superman, Batman, and Robin. A sunburst clock from the ‘60s ticked quietly on the wall above the refrigerator. Everything was as it should be, even Martha’s fretting.
And she was doing just that right now. “Should I include the green-bean-and-onion casserole?”
“Do you think that’s too, um…?”
“Don’t worry so much, dear. Bruce Wayne might be a big shot, but if he chooses to look down on us, that’s his loss.”
“You’re right.” Martha nodded emphatically. “All right, then, cranberry sauce, hamburger stuffing, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, the casserole, and the turkey.”
“And the pies!”
“Heaven forbid I forget the pies! Like father, like son.” Clark’s fondness for pie was legendary.
Jonathan ticked off his fingers. “Pumpkin, apple, cherry, and mince.”
“Don’t forget lemon.”
“I wonder if I should add another dish.”
“Honey, you’ve already got a feast fit for a king.”
“I suppose you’re right. And Alfred asked if he could bring something.”
“Some family tradition?”
“Probably.” Martha looked over her grocery list. “I’ll leave this on the fridge. Don’t forget it tomorrow!”
“Yes, dear.” Jonathan took another sip of coffee.
Martha wrote a few more items on the list. “Sam has our turkey order. It should be in by tomorrow. I’ll need extra flour for the pies. Do you think we ought to get some Darjeeling tea? Don’t the British like Darjeeling?”
“Why don’t you ask Alfred his favorite? He seems like a nice enough fella for a butler.”
“Oh, he’s a peach. Maybe I will call him.” She tapped the pencil on the table. “Dick likes pumpkin a lot, Alfred says. He’ll like the pie, then, and maybe I can make some pumpkin bread next week as snack food for him. And we’ll have plenty of apples and other fruit and vegetables for a growing boy.”
Jonathan reached across the table and took his wife’s hand as the sunlight slanted into the kitchen. “You will be the perfect hostess, like always.”
Martha smiled, her nervousness dropping away. “Thank you, dear,” she said as she squeezed his hand.
The wall phone rang and Martha jumped up to answer. “Oh, Clark! How are you, dear? Now, do you think Bruce would like my lemon pie? Though he’ll have a lot to choose from. And do you know if Alfred likes Darjeeling tea? What are Dick’s favorites besides pumpkin?”
Jonathan smiled as he finished his coffee. Martha always had everything under control. It would be a Thanksgiving to remember, to be sure, as he listened to his wife’s chatter.
When it was turn to talk to Clark, he rose and took the handset from Martha.