Half Full

​Samira moves beside me. “You know, the wood is very good and solid. And Ma had it re-caned not long ago. It’s in great condition.”

“I can see that.” Truth.

Ungrateful brat! Yes, you, Amy!

Why the sudden need to clear my throat?

“Mrs. Patel, now that I have a nice seat to offer you, how about a cup of tea? It was the first thing I bought at the grocery store after your last visit.”

They all laugh because last time, which had been the first time, I could only offer coffee or water. The elder had suggested, “perhaps a cup of tea?” But no. No tea. No place to sit. Nada. 

“Thank you, Amy, but I can’t.” Samira starts backing towards the front door. “I need to get back to the kids. School tomorrow.”

Mrs. Patel smiles at me. “Thank you, dear. That’s so kind. But Samira's right, it’s getting late.” Dubious glance at my Christmas tree. “We’ll leave you to your decorating.”

They seem surprised -- and pleased -- by my hugs and thanks. The evening breeze is cool and crisp as I wave goodbye from my front porch. 

Inside, my Christmas tree twinkles at me. Pulling my soft, new throw blanket from my bed, I settle onto my diwan and watch the lights.