Free Silver Thaw by Catherine Anderson

a tossed salad. “How on earth did you get this done so fast?” she asked.
    “Digital pressure cooker. Everything is cooked in a third of the usual time.”
    Amanda gave Chloe a chicken leg and a small serving of vegetables, afraid to dish up too much for fear the child wouldn’t eat it all. She didn’t want Chloe to be made to sit at the table until she finished swallowing bits of food she didn’t want. Glancing at Jeb, she wondered if he would get as angry as Mark had if Chloe’s appetite didn’t meet his expectations.
    “What?” he asked softly.
    Amanda shook her head. “It’s nothing.” Excusing herself, she stood and collected the plate. “Where is the warmer?”
    “Just around the end of the peninsula bar,” he replied. “Second bottom drawer, stainless-steel front.”
    Amanda found the appliance and tucked Chloe’s meal inside. When she resumed her seat at the table, she saw that Jeb had carved the remainder of the hen into pieces. She placed a folded paper towel on her lap and then chose a breast before filling the remainder of her plate with vegetables and salad, which had been tossed with a berry vinaigrette. The poultry was melt-off-the-bone tender and delicious. Jeb filled their glasses with water from a pitcher. Until she took a drink, Amanda hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.
    “This is wonderful,” she told him. “Thank you for inviting us here.”
    “I’m happy to have you.”
    They ate in silence for a minute, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Jeb seemed to be as hungry as she was. He apparently realized that he was gobbling. After swallowing a mouthful, he smiled and said, “Sorry. I’ve been flat-out all day, and the energy bars I tossed on the dash were frozen solid before I found a moment to try eating one.”
    Amanda shared her experience with the frozen leftovers. “We held pieces of pizza in our mouths until they thawed enough to chew them.”
    “I didn’t have time for much mouth thawing. It was a crazy day.” He wiped the corners of his lips with his napkin. “Tony, across the road, pounded on my door well before dawn. I felt grumpy at first, but now I’m really glad he recruited me to help. I didn’t realize how many oldsters live on Elderberry. Most of them were in desperate straits.”
    He told her about a lady who’d become offended when he poured RV antifreeze down her drains, inferringthat he felt her house was small enough to be on wheels. Then about an old man who’d proclaimed himself to be ninety years young and had fallen and bruised his hip while trying to bring in wood. “And I can’t forget my mom’s friends on Ponderosa Lane,” he told her. “I knew Mom would skin me alive if I didn’t check on them, so I went to their houses first. Nobody answered their doors. I was getting really worried that they were inside, frozen stiff, when I saw Mary Melissa Dilling’s house lit up like a Christmas tree.”
    Amanda listened intently as he described the “ice storm party.” He had a gift with words and helped her envision each lady. It impressed her that he knew not only their names but also approximately how old each was. She’d never lived in a town where people were acquainted with practically everyone. It gave her a warm feeling.
    “Then I ran into Lucy and Ethel,” he continued, grinning. “Twins who are seventy-five, never married. I think they’ve lived their whole lives on a little stage of their own making. Lucy has bright red hair and wears even brighter red lipstick. Ethel is a little plump and hasn’t bothered to cover the gray. Honest to God, I felt as if I’d just entered an old
I Love Lucy
rerun. I kept expecting Ricky to walk in and swear at Lucy in his mother tongue.”
    Amanda couldn’t resist inserting, “I’ve never watched a
Lucy
rerun.”
    “Then you are in for a treat. Every once in a while, when I’m feeling down, I’ll watch an episode on Netflix. Some humor never loses its appeal.” He took a bite of chicken and