Free Someday Home by Lauraine Snelling

often so the traditions did not get lost. “If you pass your plates, I’ll dish up the lasagna.” She had cut it into hefty pieces in the kitchen before bringing the huge pan to the table. She did not know how to make a small amount of anything.
    Another one of the lessons of widowhood that she had not succumbed to, cooking for one.
    “So, did you get that Peterson place finished?” Phillip asked, looking toward his brother.
    “I thought we weren’t going to talk plumbing tonight.” Maggie rolled her eyes at Josie, who sat across the table. The two younger women always tried to keep family meetings on track.
    “Oh, right.” Phillip passed the bread basket on around. “Maybe this weekend we can get the dock out.”
    “We have to repair that off wheel first. I have the canoe up on sawhorses so I can give it another coat or two of varnish.”
    The two wives shrugged.
    They might as well give up, Lynn thought.
    “Hey, Mom,” Maggie asked, “did you get that flier in the mail about the quilting, needlework, and craft show in Minneapolis? I’m sure dreaming of going.”
    “How can you get time off?” Lynn’s attention deserted her remodeling ideas and zeroed in on the new topic, one very dear to her heart.
    “Far enough ahead, I can ask for it. We had such a great time the last time we went.” She looked at her sister-in-law. “You want to go, too? It’ll mean a night or two in a hotel; I think the show lasts three days, but we needn’t stay for it all.”
    “Oh, how I wish. I studied that thing and the calendar, and there is no way. You’ll just have to teach me what you learned when you get home.” The three of them had attended a similar event in Fargo, just one time, but Fargo was less than an hour away, and Minneapolis, four on a good day.
    “Can I get anyone anything else?” Lynn asked, looking around the table. Maggie stood and started to clear the plates.
    “Just leave them in the sink and we’ll have dessert later.”
    “Big brother said you made both apple and chocolate pies. Do we really have to wait?” Tom practiced a pout.
    “Come on, take your coffee and we’ll turn on the news while we wait.” Phillip stood.
    “Don’t get too comfortable; we’ll only be a minute.” Lynn handed Phillip the file folder as he walked past her. “Just in case you want to start thinking before we get in there.”
    “Are you saying watching the news is a nonthinking activity?”
    Her shrug precluded any need for words.
    In the kitchen, the girls were already loading the dishwasher.
    “I can do that later.” Maggie waved a hand. “You go ahead and cut the pies. I know both of them want a slice of each.”
    “I’ll start the coffee,” Josie said.
    Through the years the three of them had become a well-oiled team on kitchen routines. When possible they canned and froze food together; baked Christmas goodies, using all the Norwegian recipes they so dearly loved; and cooked other times when large quantities of food were needed. All the kids joined them with Christmas baking.
    If I do the shared housing, will I have to give up traditions like this? Lynn paused in cutting the pie. She gave a small headshake. No, these family times were too important. The other women could take part or not as they pleased.
    Lynn fetched the coffee mugs from the rack on the wall and went back to serving the pie. “Whipped cream or ice cream?”
    “Phil will want whipped on the chocolate and ice cream on the apple.”
    “Tell him to get his own then.” Josie nudged Maggie and the two swapped grins. They always said Lynn catered to her family far more than she needed to. Lynn figured she didn’t cater half as much as her mother had. So perhaps it was a generational thing, one that maybe shouldn’t disappear altogether.
    Josie filled the coffee carafe while the others set up a tray, and Maggie carried it into the family room, where the television was now on the sports news. Both guys groaned at the same time when the