A Keeper of a Family Tradition
The glasses clink together as she removed his favorite and most used from the cabinet. The ice tinkled louder when she opened the freezer and pulled the glass-like cubes and dropped them into the expensive receptacles. This was her job, every evening. Get out the lemons and the soft cutting board and a knife. She was wielding this knife since she was ten, too young to be cutting lemons and limes, to be getting ice out of the freezer, to get the tumblers out of the cabinet. But the alcohol needed to run. The Gray Goose always sat out on the counter, like the bread box, Captain was the bird’s friend, but it was lonelier. The silver liquid poured out smoothly and quickly, washing over the cubes. She rubbed the lemon over the rim then plopped it in, proud to have this job, proud to serve her dad, proud to keep this tradition.
Shelby Lueders 