Hallelujah

Dream a Little Dream

This chapter's song is Dream a Little Dream - Ella Fitzgerald. Also welcome a special guest... and please - forgive my absolutely atrocious German.

Dinner that evening turned into a sort of potluck. It seemed every member of the team was keen to participate - to cook - to offer up a part of themselves in joy. Shelley insisted on making a pie, taking over the baking station in a floury mess. Soon enough, nearly every ass in the room had a floured handprint on it, including Eunice's - much to the young nun's chagrin.

Frank had baked beans in the oven. "Ya can't have a family reunion without baked beans," he reported matter of factly.

"We're all gonna be regretting your baked beans when we have the farts later, old man."

"Dammit, Shelley!" Frank reprimanded. "Farts aren't appropriate for dinner conversation."

"Better than most of her other dinner topics," Eunice offered. She was whipping cream in a copper bowl.

Timothy and Jude were working intently at the stove together, every burner alight with a different pan. Coq-au-vin was a multitasking dish in the highest. Jude swayed and sang along with the stereo. Occasionally, they switched places, moving smoothly as though dancing.

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"

Birds singing in the sycamore trees

Dream a little dream of me

Say nighty-night and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

While I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me

Stars fading but I linger on dear

Still craving your kiss

I'm longing to linger till dawn dear

Just saying this

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me

Stars fading but I linger on dear

Still craving your kiss

I'm longing to linger till dawn dear

Just saying this

Sweet dreams, till sunbeams find you

Gotta keep dreaming leave all worries behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

You gotta make me a promise, promise to me

You'll dream, dream a little of me

No one spoke of the impending battle. It was avoided in favor of this: this friendship they'd forged in forgiveness. The simple joys they'd cultivated in each other.

"I hope your fart casserole is ready, Frank." Shelley presented her beautifully woven cherry pie. "Because this masterpiece is ready to bake!"

Frank gave the pie a low whistle of appreciation. "That's nice, Shelley. I tell ya what: as soon as the master chefs are done over there, I'll take my beans out."