When We Gather Together

When We Gather Together
By Diane Neil, High Desert Branch

 

Alice looked at the invitation that had come in the morning’s mail. Her nephew Peter must have felt sorry for her to include her on his guest list.

“We gather together to count our blessings and celebrate Thanksgiving with a potluck dinner. Please bring your favorite dish…” the card read.

“Hah!” she snorted. “What do I have to celebrate? It’s been a rotten year. And what a cheapskate Peter is, asking his guests to bring the food. He probably won’t even have a turkey. Well, I’ll show him. I’ll bring the turkey.” She visualized a Norman Rockwell picture with the family gathered and Grandpa carving the browned bird on its lovely platter.

Turkey platter! She had her mother’s up in the cupboard somewhere. She dragged a chair over, climbed on, and reached in to pull out the platter, and — CRASH! The platter along with her beautiful crystal cake dish fell to the floor.

Alice swept up the shards and revised her plans. Cookies would have to do. Always known as a formidable cook, Alice had felt her reputation slipping in the years since her husband had died. The big family gatherings were a dim memory. She was lucky if her nieces and nephews sent her an email now and then.

She looked at Peter’s invitation again, feeling a bit more charitable. She knew Peter and Laurie had had a rough year. One of their children had been seriously ill, and Laurie lost her job through company downsizing.

Over the following week, Alice shopped for ingredients for her favorite recipe ‘Granny’s

Pantry’ cookies: chocolate chips, candied fruit, oatmeal, nuts and spices. She hadn’t made them in years and had forgotten how pleasurable it was to handle the dough, forming and flattening the balls with a glass on the cookie sheet. She took the last batch from the oven and ate two warm cookies with a cup of tea. Not bad.

The day of the party, Peter greeted his aunt at the door. Behind him, the aroma of roasting turkey and the sounds of laughing children welcomed her.

“Aunt Alice! We were hoping you’d come.” Peter took the big canister of cookies she held out. “Did you make your ‘Granny’s Pantry’ cookies? Those are my favorite!” He held the door wide open and Alice stepped inside.

Laurie greeted her with a hug. “Aunt Alice,” she said, “There’s someone I want you to meet. My Uncle Henry’s recently widowed, and I knew you could cheer him up.”

The day passed in a warm and noisy chaos, with children making Christmas ornaments in one corner, some of Peter’s friends watching football on TV, while Laurie scurried around offering drinks and introducing everyone. Toward evening Alice offered to help clean up, but Laurie demurred. “That’s what paper plates are for,” she said as she helped the guests gather leftovers to take home.

Alice had planned to leave early, but found herself sitting by the fire with Henry after most of the others had departed.

“This has been a wonderful Thanksgiving,” Henry reflected.

“Yes, it has,” Alice agreed. “The best in years. I do have much to celebrate,” she thought.

 

This story first appeared in the November 2016
Inkslinger, newsletter of the High Desert Branch.