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She began by pouring a splash of olive oil into her favorite heavy dutch oven, along with some butter. As that melted, she added a bit of garlic and three large Vidalia onions she had sliced thin, along with chopped carrots and celery. She sautéed it all for a good thirty minutes until the onions started to caramelize. Then came the meat, chopped into small, bite-size pieces that she had dredged by placing them and a scant quarter cup of flour into a plastic bag and shaking it. With the meat added to the pot, she sprinkled some thyme and sautéed the mixture for a couple of minutes until it
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It was all too easy to take a thing for granted, even something beautiful, when you lived with it every day, she thought. The extraordinary faded into ordinary, even mundane.
“Honey, always make your bed first thing in the morning,” Grandma Serena would say. “That way, you’ll start the day accomplishing something. One small thing. Then you’ll build on that.”
There was nothing so scary about that door or what lay beyond it.
After setting the pasta water on to boil, Tess cooked the bacon in the bottom of a heavy Dutch oven until it was crispy, and put it aside, reserving some of the drippings in the pot. To that, she added onion and garlic and, after sautéing for a few minutes, the chicken. After the chicken was nearly done, it was time for the tomatoes and spinach. In that same pot, she scooched all the items to the side, added some olive oil and butter, and a bit more garlic. Once that was hot, she sprinkled in three tablespoons of flour. She stirred it around until it made a thick roux, and added a few cups of
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Tess had always been a touch superstitious. She didn’t have a firm belief in things otherworldly, but she was the kind of woman who wanted her bases covered, just in case.
Joe alone was the keeper of those memories, and so many more like them, Tess thought. It was a great responsibility, holding all that history inside one’s head. An important vigil. Maybe that was why newer experiences faded as one neared the end of a long life. The brain simply couldn’t hold the lifetime of memories it had stored, and the most precious took precedence over those that came after. Who cared what he had for lunch the day before? His mind was otherwise occupied.
It was almost as if, the nearer people are to the other side, whether they’ve just come into the world or are close to leaving it, the more sleep they need. And she wondered, too, if it was really sleep at all. If it wasn’t simply their way of touching what was behind the veil. Infants reaching back to where they had been. Seniors reaching forward to where they were soon going.
“As you probably noticed, he is the very definition of living in the moment,” Wyatt continued. “Every dinner is the best he’s ever had. Every beer or glass of wine is more delicious than the last. Every day is a cause for celebration, whether it’s a holiday or any random Tuesday. I don’t know anyone who enjoys life more than he does.”
“Can I ask you a question that’s highly inappropriate and really none of my business?” Tess asked. Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “Those are the best kind. Fire away.”
“The remnants of yesterday are still in the air.”
“You deserve someone who loves you as much as you love everyone else.”
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine You make me happy, when skies are gray You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you Please don’t take my sunshine away
I’ll always love you and make you happy If you will only say the same But if you leave me and love another You’ll regret it all someday
“Indy,”
