Heart of the Home

Heart of the Home

My kitchen is the heart of my home. The space is small but inviting. I know I’m home when I can set aside the pressures of the day and focus on creating a satisfying meal. No hurries in my kitchen. The pace is slow and deliberate. Taste, color and aroma fill the senses. Kitchen conversations feed the soul.

The Arrival-A Second Hand Story

Daily prompt: Second-Hand Stories

Her phone rang, she told me, just as the yellow taxi pulled up in front of her house. Grabbing her phone from her pocket, she kept her eyes on the cab as she answered.

“Granddaddy is missing from the home,” she heard her sister say. “Everybody is looking all over for him. I just thought you should know.”

“Well, you can stop looking,” was her response. “Here he is. I’ll call you right back.”

She watched as the old man stepped from the cab, it’s engine still running, and walked toward her door. He carried a small travel bag in one hand. His tan raincoat was draped across his other arm with a tan hat held in his hand. Smiling, he greeted his favorite grand-daughter as he knocked on her screen door.

“Hi Honey,” he said. “If you’ll just pay the driver, he can get on his way.”

“Granddaddy! What are you doing here? Are you okay?” she exclaimed.

“I’m fine. I’m just not staying in that home your sister put me in. I knew you would let me live with you.”

Her grandfather always got his way, she told me. In fact, he had convinced her grandmother to marry him the first time they met. It was love at first sight, according to her grandparents. They met in a diner and, swayed by their immediate attraction, they arranged to meet again at the town courthouse the very next day to get married just before he left for the war.

Giving the old man a hug as she welcomed him in, she said “Grandaddy, you are something else. You know you can stay. We just have to clear it with Sis. Under the circumstances, I think she’ll agree.”

The cabbie honked his horn, a reminder of the still neglected fare.

“I can’t believe you took a cab all the way here,” she told her grandfather. “That’s at least 30 miles. I hope I have enough cash to cover your ride!”

Sunday Spirit Song-Write Your Story