The sun shone down on the pleasant
little town situated near an old growth forest of fir, alder, and cedar. It was midday. The sky was
blue, that profound blue that it gets sometimes in the far northwest. It felt
as if soon everything would be blooming and leafing out. A river ran near the house. It was an excellent day.
And just like every other day, at the stroke of noon on the old wall clock, Mother brought the soup out in its old tureen. It had been her mother’s, and she used it often. “Why not use your nice things when you can,” she always said. “Too many people save their nice things for the right time, and that time never comes.”
The floral china bowls were already on the table. There was a loaf of fresh bread, of which she was very proud, on a cutting board, with the big serrated knife. There were cotton napkins, and tea cups. They always had tea, richly sugared, and poured from the big Brown Betty tea pot.
There was a small ornate blue glass vase centered on the big old wooden table, containing a few sprigs of greenery. There were no flowers yet. Not even wild ones.
Four people were lunching there this time. The mother, Elaine, father, Franklin, a son, grown, Robert, and a daughter, younger than her brother, Mary Elise.
The table was surrounded by six wooden chairs, oak. The table was oak also, all plain, but decent and clean. The floor was plain pine boards, with a loose square of linoleum laid over it under the table. The linoleum was printed in geometric patterns and foliage.
Elaine sat at one end of the table, nearest the kitchen. A large black and white Tom cat came from somewhere and settled himself on the floor by her feet. He was called Apollo.
Franklin said a quick prayer of thanks. Elaine served the soup, as she always did. Then she sliced bread.
“Oh, I forgot the butter again!” she said, and scurried back into the kitchen for the butter and a small butter knife. They ate quietly for a few minutes.
“Robert,” said Franklin, “I believe the weather is settled enough to begin spading the garden. Will you look after that today?”
“Yes, sir,” said Robert. He looked happy about it too, because he enjoyed gardening. He looked forward to it every spring. He was a handsome youth, with sharply defined shoulders in a plain blue shirt. He already had the hands of a man, tanned like his face.
Elaine remarked that she and Mary Elise were working on a dress for Mary’s high school graduation. They would be upstairs during the afternoon. Mary Elise smiled. She seemed young for graduating, she was small, blue eyed, with brown braids on her shoulders. The cotton dress she wore was a sprigged blue print, of which she was rather proud, since she had done much of the sewing after Elaine had cut it out. She was beginning to sense that childhood was behind her.
Franklin said he had some letters to write, then post. He kept up with political things in this small town next to the forest, part of a newly declared state of the union.
The family was still sitting at the table having their second cups of tea and slices of bread. Franklin lit a small dark cigar; Elaine brought him a saucer for the ashes. She would air the house out when he was closed in his office writing letters.
There was a sound at the front door. A familiar sound, and yet out of place. Four sets of blue eyes looked at the door, and then around at each other.
A key turned the front door lock. It made a loud metallic noise in the still air of the old house.
The door opened slowly. The old hinges were freshy oiled and smoothy silent.
Two smiling faces peered into the empty room.
“Oh, look out there! They did leave us the old table and chairs” said newlywed Tracy.
“Well, I hope so! That was part of the deal,” said her new husband, Lars.
They walked in, shutting the front door behind themselves.
Holding hands, they explored the old house. It felt different now that it was their own. Each room was perfectly perfect. So antique, with room for growth and a life together.
Tracy inspected the kitchen, smiling. When the moving van got there, her modern appliances would complete it. The old fashioned bathroom with its huge iron tub pleased them both anew. It did feel different now that it was home.
Coming to the dining room, Tracy said, “Look! There on the table!”
On the center of the table sat a small blue cut glass vase with sprigs of fir and Oregon grape in it. The afternoon sunlight coming through the window lit it up brilliantly.
And just like every other day, at the stroke of noon on the old wall clock, Mother brought the soup out in its old tureen. It had been her mother’s, and she used it often. “Why not use your nice things when you can,” she always said. “Too many people save their nice things for the right time, and that time never comes.”
The floral china bowls were already on the table. There was a loaf of fresh bread, of which she was very proud, on a cutting board, with the big serrated knife. There were cotton napkins, and tea cups. They always had tea, richly sugared, and poured from the big Brown Betty tea pot.
There was a small ornate blue glass vase centered on the big old wooden table, containing a few sprigs of greenery. There were no flowers yet. Not even wild ones.
Four people were lunching there this time. The mother, Elaine, father, Franklin, a son, grown, Robert, and a daughter, younger than her brother, Mary Elise.
The table was surrounded by six wooden chairs, oak. The table was oak also, all plain, but decent and clean. The floor was plain pine boards, with a loose square of linoleum laid over it under the table. The linoleum was printed in geometric patterns and foliage.
Elaine sat at one end of the table, nearest the kitchen. A large black and white Tom cat came from somewhere and settled himself on the floor by her feet. He was called Apollo.
Franklin said a quick prayer of thanks. Elaine served the soup, as she always did. Then she sliced bread.
“Oh, I forgot the butter again!” she said, and scurried back into the kitchen for the butter and a small butter knife. They ate quietly for a few minutes.
“Robert,” said Franklin, “I believe the weather is settled enough to begin spading the garden. Will you look after that today?”
“Yes, sir,” said Robert. He looked happy about it too, because he enjoyed gardening. He looked forward to it every spring. He was a handsome youth, with sharply defined shoulders in a plain blue shirt. He already had the hands of a man, tanned like his face.
Elaine remarked that she and Mary Elise were working on a dress for Mary’s high school graduation. They would be upstairs during the afternoon. Mary Elise smiled. She seemed young for graduating, she was small, blue eyed, with brown braids on her shoulders. The cotton dress she wore was a sprigged blue print, of which she was rather proud, since she had done much of the sewing after Elaine had cut it out. She was beginning to sense that childhood was behind her.
Franklin said he had some letters to write, then post. He kept up with political things in this small town next to the forest, part of a newly declared state of the union.
The family was still sitting at the table having their second cups of tea and slices of bread. Franklin lit a small dark cigar; Elaine brought him a saucer for the ashes. She would air the house out when he was closed in his office writing letters.
There was a sound at the front door. A familiar sound, and yet out of place. Four sets of blue eyes looked at the door, and then around at each other.
A key turned the front door lock. It made a loud metallic noise in the still air of the old house.
The door opened slowly. The old hinges were freshy oiled and smoothy silent.
Two smiling faces peered into the empty room.
“Oh, look out there! They did leave us the old table and chairs” said newlywed Tracy.
“Well, I hope so! That was part of the deal,” said her new husband, Lars.
They walked in, shutting the front door behind themselves.
Holding hands, they explored the old house. It felt different now that it was their own. Each room was perfectly perfect. So antique, with room for growth and a life together.
Tracy inspected the kitchen, smiling. When the moving van got there, her modern appliances would complete it. The old fashioned bathroom with its huge iron tub pleased them both anew. It did feel different now that it was home.
Coming to the dining room, Tracy said, “Look! There on the table!”
On the center of the table sat a small blue cut glass vase with sprigs of fir and Oregon grape in it. The afternoon sunlight coming through the window lit it up brilliantly.
There was a faint scent of cigar
smoke in the room.
🌿
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