She wishes he’d shut up already. It’s all gobbledygook to her and even if she understood half of it, she doubts she would care.
The food on her plate is left untouched. She’s done her best, which is a far cry from the real thing. She pleaded until the last moment for him to change his mind, to book a table in a restaurant.
‘This is not how things are done,’ he might have replied. ‘You know what you have to do.’
That’s why she got him, after all.
But she couldn’t do it. She could not kill the turkey.