Originally posted November, 24, 2011
((A slice of life from the holidays.))
Laughter and sweet aromas of roasting meat filled the space. Last year they wouldn't even talk to each other. The families sat dressed in their church clothes, unsure of what fork to use when, let alone what to say to their neighbors. What a difference a year makes, thought Chance as poured another glass of wine for his guests.
This would become an annual event. Each Thanksgiving, Kori's would open its doors to the families of all its employees for a full, sit down turkey dinner with all the trimmings. The first meal had not gone well. Tension settled over tables as neighborhood rivalaries and grudges sat down to dinner as uninvited guests. It took a year, a year of getting to know each other and building trust in each other and their young employer.
Now, Chance and his new wife walked from table to table, following the Japanese custom of moving from cluster to cluster of of people, pouring drinks. The families would slip La Reina small wedding gifts, a silver cross, a flower, an envelope with a few dollars. "Don't look at me," the young husband told his bride. "I'm just their boss. You are their queen."
Eventually the two of them will settle in a pair of closely positioned chairs, hold hands, and watch their extended family. They would giggle, sharing the picture of confusion over a laid domino or mahjong tile, a miscommunication over cultural dish, a multilingual exchange over a passed computer tablet. They would kiss, leaving each other for brief moments to pour another drink or dance a song.
Chance would never speak for his wife. As he watched her move among the people that had adopted her as their queen, as she shared a moment with his old friends, as she spared a slice of her life to listen to a story from a proud grandmother; As Chance watched MacKenzie move thought this moment of his life and knew what he was thankful for.
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