My Writer's Cramp Pieces

The Dinner

Writer's Cramp entry: A yellow ribbon, an empty place setting, a sad and lonely Golden Retriever. Your story must be in the Comedy Genre.

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The Dinner

         I topped the bouquet with a bright, crisp yellow ribbon. It was the perfect finishing touch for the table decoration. The lemon and rust-colored chrysanthemums, the orange-flame roses, the white asters with dark green fuzzy fern fronds – absolutely just right!

         I’d set the table with five place settings: one for Harvey -- my husband, my three daughters -- Janey, Penny, and Sharon, and myself. I’d even used my best dishes, the ones I’d inherited from Aunt Claudine. My elaborate preparations showed how special I thought the evening was going to be.

         For the first time in over a month, I had arranged for everyone to eat dinner together as a family. It would be the perfect night -- a night when we’d finally get to look across a healthy, unhurried dinner and actually see what everyone looked like, instead of watching flashes of red tennis shoes and blue jeans running by.

         The dinner was more or less ready -- vegetarian lasagna for Sharon who’d suddenly developed an aversion to eating meat, peas for Janey who refused to eat any other vegetable, corn bread for Harvey because it was his favorite, and chocolate cake for Penny, just to watch her eyes light up. Something for everyone. It was going to be a great dinner!

         Samuel, our golden retriever, began whining. I hadn’t walked him yet. I'd been hoping that one of the girls would take the dog out when she got home, but it didn’t look like he was going to be able to wait. Samuel’d already started his staring routine. Those sad and lonely eyes were impossible to ignore. I grabbed for the leash and headed for the door.

         I almost made it. The phone’s strident yell halted me a step away. I turned and grabbed.

         “Mary Anderson,” I said.

         “Mom, it’s Penny. I forgot to tell you about the extra choir practice tonight. It starts at 6:30, and Tina’s mom says she’ll take us, if you can just pick us up at 8:30. Is that OK?”

         “Tonight???”

         “You know we have that concert on Sunday, Mom. I just can’t miss practice...”

         I took Penny's plate off the table and put it back in the cupboard. I moved the other place settings, spreading them slightly apart.

         Samuel’s whines had by then escalated to sprinklings of yips. I scooped up his leash, fastened it onto his collar, and headed out.

         “Ok, boy. Let’s go.”

         But once more the phone rang. I almost let it go. Samuel’s eyes were really pleading...

         “Mary Anderson,” I said, picking up the receiver.

         “Mom. I am so totally lost. If Nancy doesn’t tutor me tonight, I’m flunking Algebra. Is that what you want?”

         It was Sharon calling from Nancy’s house. Pointless to argue. Of course, I couldn’t be the cause of my daughter flunking algebra -- just because she had to be home eating vegetarian lasagna…

         Samuel and I headed for the open fields. Once there, I let him off the leash and watched him bouncing up and down among the weeds. It didn’t take him long to do his “duty,” but I let him nose around awhile as I attempted to resurrect my enthusiasm for the dinner plans.

         “We'll have a nice evening anyway,” I lectured myself out loud – so there will only be Harvey, Janey, and me, but we’ll have a delicious dinner and talk and ...

         It didn’t work out that way. The moment I returned to the house, the phone assaulted me.

         “Mary Anderson,” I said with a sigh loud enough to scare a charging football team.

         “Mommy, Coach Benner says we have to stay later tonight. He’s taking us for pizza, and then we’re all going to stand around getting our pictures taken because we won all those games, and then we’re going to talk about next Saturday, and the coach says...”

         So, Janey wouldn’t be having dinner with us. I took away another dish, leaving only Harvey’s and mine. I checked the water in the flowers, adjusted a couple of sagging ferns, and sat down to watch the news. Checking the time, I shoved the already cooked lasagna back into the oven for reheating.

         Harvey called before the weather news came on. He had to work late. Another sigh. They must have heard that one on Pluto.

         The night felt like a Gothic mystery -- a scary one where the characters kept disappearing -- one by one...

         I dished up some lasagna and peas, sliced a piece of cornbread, poured myself a glass of herbal ice tea, and propped up my feet. The tray, balanced across my lap, held a single lemon chrysanthemum. I sighed -- a sound pretty equivalent to one's reception of a tax audit. Then, I shrugged.

         The house was as quiet as a library at closing time. I switched the remote’s volume to mute, and settled in to enjoy a quiet evening. Next week we’d have that family dinner, and I'd cook cheese enchiladas for Sharon who was a vegetarian, and peas for Janey who refused to eat any other vegetable, and ...


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