A Dinner Evening
It had been a while. With all the Zooming and emails, there had been no need for the Storyteller to get out that way. She wondered if the Estate's name would be changed from the Beaufort Estate to the Crawford Estate. She strolled the grounds while Mrs. Beaufort chatted about the life’s newest changes. And now she was Mrs. Crawford, always smiling and cheerful. No, probably not. The Beaufort Estate would always be the name on the old gate - the old wrought iron gates that were seldom closed anymore.
Sitting by the small duck pond at the back of the Digby’s cottage, the Storyteller stared into the dark water. How would it all play out? Invited for dinner, she had arrived early at their cottage. It was her opportunity. An opportunity to see what the couple’s plans were. From afar, the Storyteller had heard about their marriage, the Crawford’s marriage and now Martha told her Brigitte would be leaving. Martha was a veritable fountain of knowledge when it came to the Estate’s comings and goings. James Digby, her husband had developed more interest in the finances for the estate. Hired originally as the butler, his position had morphed and changed over the years. Longterm employees, the Digby’s had good instincts about the little community. Cook knew her kitchen and all the nuances of what each person preferred. Samuel could be found out in the garden, in the tool shed or somewhere else on the grounds. He knew and cared for every inch of the land, even the old orchard and the much newer apiary that Dez Eliot had established.
Emelina Crawford and Dez Eliot were sisters. Sisters that had been estranged for many years until the pandemic had been declared. This sudden, tragic turn of world events brought the two women back together. Neither of them guessed that they would become good, good friends. Dez still lived in her own apartment in the city, and preferred it that way. She had told the Storyteller that, as much as loved her sister and being out at the estate, she never felt completely comfortable, unless she was in the kitchen with Cook. While Emelina could often be found in the kitchen, it was usually only to give some instructions about meals, or to stop in at Digby’s office for staff issues. Otherwise she occupied herself with ………. The Storyteller heard her hosts coming across the Estate lawn, Martha chattering about her day while James answered with an “uh-huh”, “Yes, my dear”.
“There you are, dear! Come in the house, it’s getting cool out here. How long have you been waiting. James, dear, get the kettle on. We need to make this young lady some hot tea.”
~~~~~
Dinner was a simple affair. Martha had two salads in the refrigerator - a potato salad dusted with dill weed and a green salad with radishes, tomatoes and celery. “Would you set the table please, dear. Plates are up in that cupboard over there. The cutlery in the drawer by the refrigerator. I’m just going to finish the cream cheese icing on the carrot cake while James cooks the lamb chops. He left them marinating this morning in garlic, rosemary from our garden, salt and pepper in olive oil.” James had hung his sweater and tied on his apron. Getting his best pan out he began to fry the lamb chops and soon the cottage kitchen full of the delicious aroma of cooking lamb. The Storyteller stepped outside, clipped wild flowers from beside the back porch and put her small bouquets in the vase Martha provided. Dinner was quiet. After dinner and over carrot cake, they talked about all the changes at the Estate. James was quiet about Miss Emelina’s inquiries about staff benefits and her many meetings with the accountant. She had no idea that he was aware that he spoke regularly to Mr. Winston. Martha talked about her plans for a very belated wedding reception for the Crawfords. She also mentioned that Brigitte would be leaving the Estate in a short time. The Storyteller did notice that James was unusually quiet and wondered if there was something else afoot.
“Enough shop talk. Our guest didn’t come here to listen to all our plans and woes. And what have you been doing, dear? Writing away as usual I suppose. Are there any restaurants open? Movies?”
The Storyteller told them about her many writing projects. Stories of space travel, and stories for children, poetry, and walks in parks. Martha talked about the squirrels in their back yard, the wild flowers and her little garden. James washed up the dishes and listened as the two women talked. He smiled to himself because he suspected there were changes coming.
“Things change. And friends leave, Life doesn’t stop for anybody.”
~ Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
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