Lone eagle

She broached the subject gingerly the following afternoon when she got home, and found her mother checking the china in the kitchen. She was well known for the beautiful table she set, and her elaborate flower arrangements. And she was distracted when Kate first walked into the kitchen, trying to assess her mother's mood.

“Hi, Mom. Need a hand?” Her mother looked over her shoulder in surprise. Kate was always the first to escape when she thought her mother needed help in the kitchen. She always said that domestic duties bored her, and they were demeaning.

“Did you flunk out of school?” her mother said with a look of amusement. “You must have done something really awful if you're offering to help me count china. How bad is it?”

“Couldn't it be that I'm just more mature now that I'm in college?” Kate said with an imperious look, and her mother pretended to think about it for an instant.

“That's possible, but very unlikely. You've only been there for three months, Kate. I think maturity starts to happen junior year, and doesn't come full-blown until you're a senior.

“Great. Are you telling me that after I graduate, I'll actually want to count china?”

“Absolutely. Particularly if you're doing it for your husband,” her mother said firmly.

“Mom… okay, okay. I did something in the spirit of what you always tell me Thanksgiving is about.” Kate looked innocent as she faced her mother.

“You killed a turkey?”

“No, I invited a homeless friend for dinner. Not homeless, but family-less.

“That's sweet, darling. One of the girls in your house at Radcliffe?”

“A friend from California,” she hedged, trying to soften up her mother before she told her.

“It's perfectly understandable she can't go home. Of course you can invite her. We have eighteen people coming here for dinner, and there's plenty of room at the table.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Kate said looking relieved, at least they had room for him. “By the way, it's not a girl.

“It's a boy?” Her mother looked startled.

“Sort of.”

“From Harvard?” Her mother looked genuinely pleased. She loved the idea of Kate dating a boy from Harvard, and it was the first she'd heard of it. And only three months into the school year.

“He's not from Harvard,” Kate dove into the icy water, “it's Joe Allbright.”

There was a long pause as her mother looked at her with eyes full of questions.