Part Three of Three: A Winter's Drive and Dinner

The soup was thick and rich.  Its pumpkin color dimmed slightly from the whipped cream and chicken broth added to it.  Steve added pumpkin seeds as an appropriate topping to complement the sweet flavor.  They provided a tinge of tartness to offset the vibrant creamy taste.  Too much of such a dish would ruin one’s appetite. 

            -This is so good, mother started. 

            -It’s so heavy…in a good way though, his brother added. 

            -Well, it’s that cream, Steve affirmed.  I add it just at the end, so at first serving, it can be a bit overwhelming.  I usually like this more the second day, after all the ingredients and flavors have blended together just right, especially after a second heating. 

            -It could be dessert the way it is right now, He said. 

            -Well, I appreciate it, but if you think this is rich, wait till we actually have dessert, Steve concluded. 

Soup was finished and the main course was placed out on a smaller table in a buffet style.  The boys and Steve moved the dining room table out more to make room once it was decided that it would be easier for all to serve themselves.  The dining room was small but sufficient for a party of four.  It provided a satisfying intimacy for everyone and was warmer than other parts of the house due to its proximity to the kitchen. 

Some more wine was drawn and the main courses were procured individually.  The chicken curry was mild yet flavorful, the chicken itself being very tender, cooked to perfection.  And the Jamaican Jerk Salmon, although not as mild, was also cooked impeccably and offered a perfect balance of tangy, yet succulent lightness to the meal.  Wine was poured and conversation continued. 

            -How are things in the city?  Steve inquired of His brother.

            -Things are tolerable right now, answering thoughtfully yet quickly enough, indicating it was a question answered many times before. 

But his brother was never one to shy away from the question.  He enjoyed discussing his work and the state of the city. 

            -The largest problem has been the disappointment of the mayor.  He’s done very little to enforce some of the promises of sweeping change he made, which has compounded the already unpromising feeling for our future. 

            -Sounds a great deal like our president, Steve added.

            -Well, yes, but no at the same time.  At the very least the president has propositioned dramatic reform, which for better or worse, may actually get passed.  He has rallied his party to get things done, and many of his initiatives were directly from his campaign.  Although there’s been some stalling, he is not necessarily to blame.  The mayor, on the other hand, has literally done nothing more than raise taxes and create some new bike paths.  In addition, he’s still playing politics as usual. 

            -Isn’t he hog-tied like every other mayor and governor throughout the country with the growing deficit though? Steve countered. 

            -That’s true.  But not everything costs money.  Many of the problems are systemic and can be resolved through a creative restructuring of certain institutions.  Fiscally, these reforms could work, but there is always the political hurdle, that so far, the mayor seems unwilling to even attempt to leap. 

            -Well, it’s the same old song, just a different singer, their mother added. 

            -From what I can tell, it seems to be a much worse song than years, or even decades past, Steve said.  It’s just people don’t seem to have the right concerns anymore.  Just a few months ago, I was having dinner with a good friend, who comes from a long, proud tradition of conservatives, and she was telling me how her family had partaken in the Tax Day Tea Party.  So, I felt compelled to ask her how her family is more concerned about taxes than millions of pension plans that were basically bankrupted over the past few years.  Why weren’t there anti-wall street rallies, I asked her.  Of course, she just stared at me, angrily dumbfounded. 

            -Well, that’s one of the city’s biggest crises right now, his brother offered.  And it’s only going to get worse.  Policemen, firemen, teachers…

            -What I don’t understand, is how this happens.  He joined.  I mean, every month and every year, thousands of employees are contributing money to their pensions, and then suddenly it’s gone.  How?

            -Just sloppy investments, his brother responded.  There was never any actual money.  It was just statements. 

            -Well, it was money not in a person’s check, he admonishingly retorted.  And it is money not received after retirement for many right now.  Right?  I mean, look at what happened to US Airways.  All of their pilots lost their entire pensions, and now, almost ten years later, the government says it will buy up the debt and start reimbursing the pilots, but about maybe two-thirds of their original pension.  How is this legal?  But, the pilots are happy to be receiving anything, after years of nothing.  Steve’s right, more than anything, I see the biggest problem as a sad misplacement of concern.

As the dinner wore on, the conversation became more amicable and casual.  Discussions of favorite restaurants, thirtieth birthdays, and jocular reflections of Y2K transitioned seamlessly into one another as Frosty the Snowman and other Christmas songs played in the background.

            -I remember going to the supermarket for some pretzels and something else… well, I can’t remember.  But anyway, the cashier was aghast that I wasn’t buying cases of water and milk for Y2K, their mother reflected.  I mean, seriously, what a joke.

            -The irony is we had a lot more to fear but we just didn’t know it yet.  It was nice to have to only worry about the meltdown of our entire computer system.  He added dryly. 

Plates were cleared, tea and coffee were prepared and dessert was served.  An assorted mix of sweets and cookies, chocolate and peanut-butter fudge, and mini-banana breads were passed around.  Everyone grabbed one item and slowly savored its calorific sweetness.  The indulgence was laced with guilt as most desserts are: 

            -I’m going to need to start working out again after this, his brother stated as he bit into a large fudge brownie. 

            -I might just have you guys drop me off at Curves on our way back, their mother facetiously added. 

            -I don’t think I’ll need to eat for a few days after this evening, he put in. 

            -You people need to enjoy this stuff more often, Steve countered.  This is once a week for me, and you know what, I deserve it. 

They all laughed and then finished their desserts.  After cleaning up, their mother offered to help load the dishwasher but Steve refused.  He said it gave him something to do at the end of the night.  Finally, they moved back into the living room, which seemed colder now in their prolonged absence.  The night was coming to an end.  Yet, there was time for a few final thoughts to be passed, people to be thought fondly of, and memories to be recollected.  Steve took the larger chair, as it suited his back, while the boys took the couch and their mother sat in a dinning room chair. 

            -So, have you enjoyed the snow?  Their mother inquired of Steve.  Steve, by the way boys, loves the snow. 

            -Yes indeed, Steve affirmed.  I always have.  It’s been great.  The falling is my favorite part.  I sat and watched out the back patio door and watched it fall for three hours.  It was nice since it wasn’t too windy either, our here at least.  It fell ever so lightly, almost like each flake was concerned of hurting the one’s below them. 

He paused for a minute.

-Sometimes, I just focus on one flake and try to see where it will fall, but eventually they all get lost in each other. 

            -I’m with you, his brother agreed.  I’ve told my mom before we need an enclosed patio or porch so we can just watch the snow drop. 

            -Not me, if it gets me a day off from work, well then, I’m happy, but except for that, I’m okay without it.  He added. 

Their mother and Steve exchanged a few gifts.  Nothing large, just a couple bottles of wine.  Eventually, everyone rose in unison to part.  Their dinners and desserts were digesting still, but it was getting late.  On their way out, Steve told them to watch their steps due to some of the ice that had formed. 

            -Be careful on the roads too, he added, there’s probably lots of ice on them as well. 

They acknowledged his advice and replied with a few good-byes and thank yous.  His brother offered to drive but their mother was quite content to do so. 

            -We’ll take the Pike home.  It’s probably salted real well by now, and dead as well, she said. 

The boys agreed.  He sat in the back on the ride home.  The road was empty, most people probably at home opening a few gifts or wrapping up Christmas Eve dinners themselves.  The road was not very well salted, but well light enough to see any hazardous areas.  The city glimmered in the distance.  As he nodded off, he could hear the radio reporting the chance for more snow on Christmas Day and then New Year’s Eve as well.  His mind shuddered slowly as he contemplated the winter to come and the snow that would fall.  But then he sighed and laid his head back again and fell asleep soundly, if for only a brief while.    

Comments

[James Dugan]

Remarkable tone and sublte writing. I like how the action is underneath the whole story. How you bring back the year and decade piece by piece and the particpants in the story can do nothing but sigh. The escape of food and conversation stabilizes the characters against a world full of danger, including the cold of nature and the ennui of politics. It reminded me of Waiting for Godot.

I was most taken back with the mother, who remained in control, as if age had given her the wisdom to accept ceratin truths about the world. Steve had this also when he said he watched the snow fall for three hours -- almost a zen meditation. The whole story is underlined with intense lonliness of the setting and yet it is a dinner party and nothing happens with only one character.

A fine piece of writing underscoring the feeling of many of us heading back on the road after the holidays. There is much to be scared about and the road is probably not salted, but we have our family and friends, the older ones to guide from their actions, and food and conversation to help us along the way. Great metaphor for the Lunch Break, if you allow me to say so.

Thanks