Sunday Dinner

Sunday Dinner A Novel of Forgiveness and Understanding

Prologue

Ellie had the chicken baking in the oven. The potatoes were cooking in the pot almost ready to be beaten with milk and butter. The can of chicken gravy was opened and simmering in the pan on the top of the stove. A pan of green peas waited patiently for the colander. Cherry pie was on the counter looking delicious. Coffee was brewed. The table was set. It was almost noon so Dad would be there soon.

This feast happened every Sunday just like clockwork. And so did the feeling of dread that gripped her heart. The whole dinner would last fifteen minutes to half an hour and then Dad would get up and say “Thanks” and make his departure. There was little conversations between them. There never had been. They had never really had a relationship, just empty commitment due to the fact that they were father and daughter.

That Sunday proved to be the same as all of the others. As she took care of the leftovers and cleared the evidence that anything had happened at the dining table, her mind wandered to the source of her problems with her father. Fear and arguments. Ironically, Ellie had not had too many arguments with her father even though she was thirty-five years old. The arguments had been between her mother and father and various other relatives on both sides of the family. They were over anything and everything. She developed a fear that the loud voices would wake her at night or would occur during family dinners. Christmas morning was stressful because Dad would refuse to get dressed no matter how much his wife argued with him to get ready because everyone was coming to their home to open brightly wrapped presents. Ellie had even learned to fear the times when there weren’t arguments because they could start at a moment’s notice. The dread of the argument was almost worse than the arguments. It was never physically violent and they never lasted more than a day or two. There was love between her parents. She never doubted that for a minute. But there was the unceasing stress that the arguing caused Ellie. And this stress continued day after day after day after day. She never learned how to handle it. She grew up and left home for college. After graduation she came back to her hometown to live her own life there in the same town she had grown up in. But every encounter with Dad brought the same fear. Mom died and Dad asked her to move back into the family home. She told him she couldn’t. She needed to be on her own. She told him she loved him, which was true, but she secretly feared she would become the new arguing partner for him.

A few years later Ellie fell in love and married. Her husband and Dad developed a good friendship, often sharing the laughter and conversation that Ellie had never known with her father. Daniel and she often talked of this. She told him of this fear of arguing that had affected all other relationships in her life. It even affected their life together. When they would argue, as all married couples do, Ellie would have physical symptoms—upset stomach, headaches, nervousness. All of these aches and pains due to old fears. At such times Daniel would give her a big hug and tell her to give her father a little slack. Daniel had been through hard times in his life, too, and knew that sometimes things just don’t turn out too well. She was still trapped by her fear.

One Sunday the phone rang. It was Dad calling at about the time he would have come for Sunday dinner all those years ago. He said he didn’t feel very well. He asked if someone could come out and check on him. Daniel had volunteered to go out and chat with Dad for awhile. He got into the car, gave her a smile and a wave, and headed to Dad’s. Ten minutes passed and the phone rang again. It was Daniel. Dad had died. An ambulance was called but Dad had had a massive heart attack and was gone from all their lives. There was no chance of a conversation now . . . . .