Christmas: Icy Relations
Christmas: Icy Relations
Joanne stood at her mom’s kitchen sink, washing the worn aluminum pot she had just mashed the potatoes in. The icicles hanging from the eave, capturing the last of the setting sun, cast a spectrum onto the window pane. In so many ways the pot reminded her of her mother; worn, but still so dependable. The handle was loose, and the bottom was worn thin from the hundreds of spoons that had stirred everything from custard to pinto beans. It would have to one day be thrown away. And one day her mother would also be gone. Then there would only be her brother Jerome and her sister Lisa. Yeah, and she would just as soon it only be Jerome. Then, just on cue, Lisa and her husband James pulled into the yard.
A sudden chill swept over the o
