Fifteen Minute Friday: Candlelight
Fifteen Minute Fridays are stories based on writing prompts that I penned in the 15 minutes afforded to me at my weekly writer’s group. They are unedited (except spelling) and are based on one word. The fifteen minutes includes thinking about your idea, writing it down, and a quick edit if you have time. If you would like to play along, get your pen an paper ready.
This week’s prompt… Candlelight. You have 15 minutes–go!
Better With Chardonnay
The flicker was intoxicating. Back and forth as it cast its glowing shadow against the dark painted walls of our dining room. The aubergine paint a fleeting choice and a regrettable one.
It was our last night before everything would change. We had tried to imagine our growing family expanding into this space and still having room for our toddlers to become teenagers. But with only one full bathroom, it seemed an impossibility that, without a major renovation, we would be able to make our first property our forever home.
“Cheers to Willingdon,” I offered up my glass of white for a clink over a meal of spaghetti and meatballs. “Cheers,” my husband offered with more emotion than I expected.
Our children had been born into this home. We had only every been homeowners here. I learned how to tend a garden through trial and error in that soil. I fixed plumbing, electrical, and appliances over the years. I had resealed the tub and painted every room. But that is not what I will remember.
What I will take with me into our new home is the horsie rides my husband would give the children in the living room with the most beautiful Art Deco fireplace as his backdrop. I will remember the time we had thirteen over for dinner for our daughter’s birthday. Our new puppy decided to deposit a present in the hall just before the company arrived and my husband, not a fan of our newest family member, was rinsing the gift off his foot in the kitchen sink when the doorbell rang. I will remember the joy on our daughter’s face when her new baby brother was introduced to her only hours after being born, in that front hall. That was likely the last time she was ever excited to see her brother.
It is true that a house does not make a home, but it is a lovely way to encapsulate the memories we formulate there.
It wasn’t long ago we signed the papers at the spaghetti restaurant only 200 metres away from where we sat this night to purchase our starter home. It was five years earlier over a glass of wine and a votive candle flickering consent. So, it seems apropos that we share our wine over candlelight and pasta. Change is good but it always better with chardonnay and meatballs.
When we are done our 15-minute writing exercise, we share our stories with everyone in the room. If you played along, please share. If you read my words, please be kind.
Photo by Vincenzo Landino on Unsplash