Baby's Breath

CHAPTER 3

Meal time was Alex's second most exciting time in his day. He always found solace in the company of Joyce and her phenomenal cooking. Her culinary creations were an artistic masterpiece, crafted with love and care. Every plate that Joyce placed on the table was an explosion of flavors, each bite more satisfying than the last.

Once a month, the quaint dining room of the ancient house would come alive with warmth and laughter. Friends and family would gather around the sturdy antique table, adorned with a simple yet elegant floral tablecloth. But the highlight of these gatherings was not just the delicious feast of homemade delicacies that filled the room. It was the lively and comforting conversations that danced in the air, creating an atmosphere of pure joy.

As the flames crackled in the woodstove, casting a soft, golden glow, Norman, Joyce, and their guests took their seats. Norman, always chose his spot directly under the moose head that housed the rifles. It was an odd and mysterious sight, with no one quite knowing where the magnificent creature came from. Yet, it had become a fixture, as much a part of the house as the walls themselves.

As the first course was served, the fragrant aroma of Joyce's famous food filled the room. Silverware clinked against the delicate china, and the conversation began to flow like a gentle stream. It was a time for catching up on daily events, sharing stories of triumphs and tribulations, and relishing in the bonds of friendship and family.

Norman, ever the observer, sat back in his chair, taking in the animated gestures and heartfelt laughter around him. His eyes twinkled with delight, like a mischievous child observing the world through a keyhole. While his contributions to the conversation were few, the energy of his presence was palpable.

The main course arrived, platters overflowing with tender roasted chicken and fragrant roasted vegetables. Glasses clinked together, toasting to the joys and victories that life had bestowed upon them. Laughter filled the dining room, blending harmoniously with the clattering of cutlery. Norman's face, lined with years of wisdom, softened as he soaked in the warmth of the atmosphere.

As the dessert, a mouth-watering apple pie, made its way to the table, the stories grew richer and the laughter louder. The house seemed to come alive, whispering secrets from its ancient walls, as if they too had been touched by the love and camaraderie that filled the room.

The evening danced along, each passing moment imprinted with the memories of joy and love. The conversations took twists and turns, jumping from anecdotes of childhood adventures to dreams for the future. The guests reveled in the jovial atmosphere, cherishing the rare but cherished moments of pure bliss.

With the night drawing to a close, as the last crumbs of pie were meticulously devoured, Norman secretly offered his gratitude to the mysterious moose head. It stood stoically above him, as if eavesdropping on their discussions, its presence a silent witness to the magic that had unfolded beneath its sturdy antlers.

Each month, Norman, Joyce, and their guests continued to gather around the timeless table, sharing meals, stories, and laughter. With each passing gathering, their souls were nourished, their spirits lifted, and the bonds of friendship grew stronger. And although the source of the moose head remained an enigma, its mysterious presence added an extra touch of whimsy and imagination to their lively and comforting conversations, making it a truly unforgettable part of their cherished experiences.

Clancy the Christmas cactus, had been a cherished resident of the home for many years, delighting the family with its vibrant blooms during the holiday season.

Clancy fought to survive, its weak branches spread across the wall, reaching for something intangible. It seemed to reflect the silent struggles of Alex, as if they both longed for something that continually eluded them.