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    Cornucopia ~ Chapter 6 ~ Thanksgiving Wednesday (Part Two of Four)

    Story written on December 11, 2008 by Spumoni.
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    Genre(s):
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    Character(s): ,
    Number of Comments: 6
    Words: 8189
    Story Shortlink: https://mail.assertive-maroon-jellyfish.104-250-143-187.cpanel.site/?p=71952
    Author Notes:

    Venn diagrams are diagrams that show all hypothetically possible logical relations between a finite collection of sets (groups of things or, in this case, the framily)

     

    As the cooking continued, the kitchen became warmer and warmer and the women removed sweaters or rolled sleeves or opened high-necked shirts.  The warmth of the room was an essential part of Tina’s memories of these days.

     

    By the time the women had finished that night, they would have prepared every part of the feast that could be done in advance.  Three different stuffings, one for each of the turkeys needed to feed the large family that would celebrate together,  Turnips were mashed, green beans washed, candies sweet potatoes assembled in casserole dishes, pecan pies  baked, and apple cobblers assembled.

     

    “Grandma, why aren’t we having pumpkin pie?” Tina asked with false innocence, waiting for the fireworks.

     

    “Yes, mother.  Why aren’t we having pumpkin pie?”

     

    “Stop it.  You know why.”

     

    “I don’t, Grandma.  We used to have pumpkin pie.”  Tina stoked the fires.

     

    Her grandmother sighed, “Tina, we did.  But all of these foolish hens,” she waved her arms at her daughters and daughters-in-law, “would fight and fight about whether the pumpkin pie was as good as my mother’s.  It didn’t matter to them if the pie was good.  All they cared about was whether it was like my mother’s.  So, I banned pumpkin pie.  So, unless these fools learn how to behave, you’ll all have to wait until I am dead before you can serve pumpkin pie at my Thanksgiving dinner.”

     

    Tina nodded and returned to peeling apples for the cobbler. She bit her lip, wondering if her plan with Uncle Russ might not be a good idea.

     

     

     

    @@@@@@@@

     

    Bette was very annoyed.  Every seated passenger she had thought a likely Stamford or Rye departee was still in place as the train was pulling into Penn Station.  She had started scanning the rest of the passengers once the train had left Rye.  Departees always telegraphed their intentions, sometimes by the way they looked around, or closed a book, or stretched a neck. She knew that half of the passengers would depart in New York, but there were still many standees, like herself, trying to change that status.  There would also be seating competition from new passengers.  Bette located her principal target and several alternates. She had no intention of standing for another hour until the train reached Philadelphia.

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    Comments

    1. Hey there, thx so much for this. Always enjoy your stories and I’m learning, like the NY Public Library-over here u just have to go sort your own books out unless u make a request to the National Library or to a University Library.Like the names of the Lions.And cereal actually doesn’t have much nutritional value so maybe Bette and Tina could make Angie a nice smoothie with berries, yoghurt and an an egg for protein-no need to tell her about the egg though. Just a thought. PPS

    2. I love the flashbacks with Tina’s family. Bette’s family (Or should I say Kit and David) seems full of sadness. I can’t wait for the next post.

    3. hey don’t get me wrong here but if time permits and the creative flow comes through, a nice story similar to this one but without the flashbacks, with B & T would be fun to read, not that this one isn’t.

    5. ”I have taken some Liberties when writing this story” – So you’re wearing a big copper dress that’s turning green, w 7-spikes on yer head and carrying a big book and a torch?… interesting… ;-)

    6. So paths crosses without the travelers necessarily meeting? OK. Too bad Bette didn’t disembark in NY, with that mouth she would have fit right in. Inspired and colorful insults are an ancient art form there. I daresay I’ve gotten off a few good ones there myself. At about the time of the flash backs I worked across 5th Ave. from the library and in warm weather I’d join the masses of office workers to have lunch on the steps and terraces out front near the lions. It usually was a nice break but there was that time 2 men were arguing, one on the terrace above me and the other below, about the man above’s wife. I was grateful when they moved along, taking the argument farther across the steps with them. I’m not a parent, but I was a finicky eater as a child. I’d have to tell Bette to skip the sushi. Not much shelf life with that.

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