Kalliope 2014.pdf May. 2014 | Page 133

We emerged from the shady shelter of the trees and found ourselves staring, through the golden light of day, to the dirty, ghostshingled house across the soy bean fields. We wound our way along the path until we managed to reach the dirt driveway leading up to the place. Our feet thumped against the wooden steps and the screen door snapped at us again when we tromped into the house. The dusty aroma of the house was still lingering, but the smell of dinner had overpowered the air. My Aunt and Uncle sat at the kitchen table eating some type of stew. Eric and I were happy to accept an offer of dinner, and gathered our meals before sitting at the table. The sound of spoons scraping against the bottom of bowls grew distant and insignificant against the panic rising in my entire being. I cast the man I loved a sidelong glance. His face softened with the look he returned. He nodded with a warm smile. I wanted nothing but to take his hand, so I did. “We’ve got something important to say, while we are here.” I announced. They both looked up from their soup and saw our hands together on the table. My heart raced as if it wanted to be heard from across the table. It felt as if time and silence were building themselves upon my shoulders, and each heartbeat only added more weight and pressure. I felt the warmth of Eric’s hand in mine and simply took a deep breath to soothe myself. I reminded myself, whatever they say, whatever they think, is really none of my business. 131