"I can't do this, Shaun. Can't you see that? I just cannot!" Carla's face was a river of tears. Her voice caught in her throat, and her heartfelt sobbing echoed, bouncing off the beautifully tiled kitchen walls ominously.
"My folks, baby, they're my folks. Honey, you have to try. Angel, for me...for me. Please?" Shaun dragged both hands through his hair in a frustrated effort to connect with his distraught wife.
Carla gave him a withering look between her tears. "Shaun, I've never cooked meat in my entire life. What part of this don't you understand? I don't know how to do it, and the thought of that poor little dead lamb... Oh, God…God!"
"Sweetheart, I don't want to make you cross, but, you know, you know... you cook chicken for our puppy every day. You know that you do. Darling, you eat fish sometimes; you know that you do, don't you?"
Shaun gave her his best boyish smile—a load of baby blues—which he knew, quite unashamedly, always disarmed her. "I'd cook it for my folks, if I could, but you know how "kitchen challenged" I am... honey?" Shaun took a look at his wife's teary profile, and he knew that he was in serious trouble. He didn’t know how to calm her down.
“Fish is not farmed, Shaun! You know that. It’s caught in the wild, and it’s not forced to live an unnaturally cruel existence. Are you accusing me of hypocrisy? Are you?" Carla was spinning out of control; the edge on her voice literally reverberated around the room. Even the French press shook slightly in reaction to her pitch.
‘The French press!’ Shaun looked at the coffee machine; it was an epiphany moment.
"Come and sit down, baby. Let’s just calm down, okay? I’m going to make us a pot of coffee, and we’re going to think this through together. No more tears. Please, honey-angel?"
"Honey-angel!" Carla shot back at him. "Honey-angel?" She was quiet for an entire minute, then her shoulders reacted with mirth. Carla tried to stifle her giggles, but they wouldn’t let go.
Next thing, she was laughing out loud.Shaun couldn’t resist; he rushed over to enfold her and capture the ridiculous moment. He kissed her forehead, patted her shoulder, and hugged her fiercely.
"God, I love you, you know?" This admission brought on more laughter, and the two of them collapsed on the kitchen bench in front of the coffee pot.
Shaun released her reluctantly: "I’ll make the coffee. Okay?"
Carla was still jittery, her face puffy, and her eyes red-rimmed, but she was grinning. Shaun took it as a good sign and rushed over to put the kettle on.
"I don’t understand, really, I don’t. I’m doing a mushroom and olive loaf with caramelized onion gravy, sweet pumpkin mash, and roast potatoes. I’m going to follow up with pears baked in red wine and served with coconut cream. What’s wrong with that? Why do we have to offer them meat? Ugggg!" Carla took a deep, calming breath; it shook a little, but there was no more fight in it.
Shaun spooned the filter coffee into the pot, giving himself time to formulate a benign answer. "Look, honey-angel, we want my folks to accept us, to accept who we are, to accept our lifestyle. Don’t we? But we have to make a concession; they're old-school; they've never heard of vegetarians. We have to compromise if we want peace and grandparents who’ll come over and take care of our kids."
"Kids," Carla softened, "what kids?"
"You know? The kids…" Shaun brought the coffee over in their favorite mugs and set it down on the table with a twinkle in his eye. His phone pinged in his pocket, and he took it out before sitting next to his wife. Shaun’s jaw dropped. The screen of his phone held a magic message.
"Look here, honey-angel, look!" He pushed the phone over to his wife. "Forage and Feast, ready-cooked Christmas dinner, look...”
Carla stared at the screen in wonder. "Wow, why didn’t we think of that? Of course, we can order a package roast thingy with meat in it. We won’t have to touch it, and your folks will be ecstatic. Won’t they?"
"Merry Christmas, honey-angel. It looks like we’re going to get through this thing together. Doesn’t it?"
Shaun sighed and took a huge gulp from his warm mug.
Collage made by me using the pictures below from Pixababy
Prompt : To help prepare us for the coming holidays and get us into a festive spirit, tell us a Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or any other festive holiday-themed coffee story.
