Just Another Day

Clara was serving herself tea from the good China, shortbread cookies arranged neatly on a nearby plate. She wasn’t a dunker. And if you were having tea with Clara, she would stare you down with her coal black eyes if you dipped your biscuit in.

The kitchen window was open and the lace curtains blew toward her. The house was still, allowing her to hear the chirping whistle of a cardinal outside. The gentle breeze brought with it the scent of lavender just outside her window.

Idyllic, but Clara was feeling anything but. Her mouth was hard and tense and her hand gripped the handle of the cup tightly. Her pale yellow dress was neatly pressed and she was wearing fluffy white slippers. Why bother to put shoes on if there’s nowhere to go?

A knock at the door startled her and she saw her nephew through the glass panels. “Hi, Aunt Clara,” he said waving. When she didn’t immediately get up, he tried the door again. “Hey, Aunt Clara, come open the door.” Sighing she rose and unlocked the door. Then she turned around and walked away.

“Hey, where’re you going?” he said.

“Nowhere,” she said. “It’s just another day. No big deal.”

“Ah, it’s the birthday angst,” he said and smiled.

Clara wasn’t smiling back. “You can’t fool me,” she said. “I know you forgot.”

But he only laughed, hugging her. “I love your feistiness and you always thinking the worst. Now get your shoes on. We’re going to celebrate. I made reservations. Mom, dad, and a couple of your friends are joining us. Does that sound like someone who forgot?”

“Okay, okay,” she said, pushing him away. But she was smiling as she put on her sparkly shoes.



WC 291