Avocado Deviled Eggs

Avocado Deviled Eggs
As I sat down at the laptop to write to my sister, I felt a pang of missing her already.
Dear Agnes, I was so sorry to hear you and Jack won’t be able to join us for Easter. It won’t be the same, for sure. Of course, my Ben asked who would make your famous deviled eggs. Ha Ha! Well, I’ve been trying to remember your recipe and I think I’ve got it. You check me out.
Ingredients
6 hard-boiled eggs, halved 1 clove garlic, crushed
1 avocado, diced 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
3 slices cooked bacon, chopped salt to taste
2 ½ tablespoons mayonnaise 1 jalapeno pepper, sliced (optional)
2 teaspoons lime juice

Now, I know you save the bacon and pepper aside. You know how Mother is about peppers. The guys will eat her share. Mix everything else and spoon it into the egg white halves. Bacon and peppers for garnish. Seems I’m missing something. Help!
I hoped the little hearts I placed at the end would prompt my sister to share her secret ingredient. Her avocado deviled eggs were famous at every church social and family reunion she had ever attended. Others tried to duplicate the recipe but never quite made the mark.
I had just finished clearing the dinner table when I heard the chime of an email. I dried my hands and sat at the desk again. I opened her email to a huge smiley face on the page. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” That’s all she gave me. Now what to do?
The next day I had my plan. I began typing in a flurry. “Sis, I know you don’t mean to spoil our Easter dinner. It’s bad enough you can’t be here but do you really want me to mess it up more with a lousy version of the dish everyone wants?” That’s it. Guilt her into helping me.
The next email installment gave little relief. Maybe just a glimmer of hope. My sister taunted me. “You, of all people, should be able to figure this out. If it wasn’t so easy, I’d help you. Let me just say, if Dad were still here, he could tell you.” 😊
I let the email trail rest the next day. I tried the recipe again. Again. Again. I changed the measurements. I used lemon instead of lime. The cashier at my corner grocery probably thought I was pregnant and had mad cravings for eggs, I made so many trips there.
Now it was the Saturday before the big day. Easter dinner was upon me and I was still in a fog. “Maybe I should just make a sweet potato casserole and be done with it.” I went to the laptop to make one last plea. “Sis, what can I say or do to get that one last ingredient. I know it’s missing something and you are keeping it from me. What d’ya say?” I figured it was worth one last try.
That afternoon the laptop chimed and I ran to see a new message from my sister flashing on the screen. I sat down and shook my hands to loosen my fingers before I clicked it open. Her words shocked me.
“I can’t believe you haven’t got this. C’mon, I thought you knew Dad better than that. Did you not pay attention at the table? Honestly, when he said grace he was already reaching for…..what?”
“Oh my God! Hot sauce.” The minute I knew, my eyes began to fill. My Dad had a bottle of hot sauce on the table every meal. If we went somewhere else to eat, he took his hot sauce. I had to call her for this. “Sis, of course, hot sauce. There must not be much or Mom would hate it.”
“No, not much. Really just a dash as the chefs say. Just enough to honor him. It makes a difference, though, doesn’t it?”
I was still confused and a little mad. I shifted the phone at my ear. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? You’ve never told anyone, have you?”
“I was just playing with you this time. I wanted to please him with it. It was just between me and him. When he died I decided I would never tell. By then the eggs were so popular it made it fun.”
“Why tell me now? Are you all right? You’re not sick or something? Oh God, you want me to carry on the legacy, right?”
My sister always had the greatest laugh. “No, silly. I guess I remembered how Dad would always offer us the hot sauce. He’d laugh when we girls would shrink away from the spicy stuff, but he always offered. I think I wanted to share that way. It’s also important that I honor him publicly. He never hid, that bottle sat right out on the table for all to see.