Chapter 10 - The First Dinner Party
Sunday afternoon arrived with a crisp breeze and a sky the color of polished silver.
I decided to break in the newly renovated kitchen with a quiet dinner party—not for regional directors or snobbish coworkers, but for people who mattered.
Thomas and his sister accepted my invitation, along with Mrs. Gable from across the street, who had watched the moving trucks leave with undisguised satisfaction a month earlier.
The dining table was set with the good linen tablecloth I hadn't used since my husband Donald passed away. A warm roast chicken sat in the center, flanked by roasted root vegetables and a fresh loaf of sourdough bread.
"Margaret, I have to say," Mrs. Gable beamed, taking a sip of sparkling cider, "the house feels lighter. It feels like you again."
"It is me, Martha," I smiled, passing the gravy boat. "For a long time, I forgot that keeping the peace shouldn't require losing your dignity."
As we laughed and shared stories over dinner, the front doorbell chimed softly.
I paused, wiping my hands on a napkin, and walked down the short hallway to the front entry.
May you like
Standing on the porch was Stephanie.
She wasn't wearing her business suit or her casual weekend clothes. She wore a simple, clean dress, and her hair was neat. Behind her, standing quietly on the sidewalk, was Mason, clutching a small drawing book in his hands.
