Family

Mason felt her first bit of premonition when she stood in her kitchen, cooking
a big vat of mashed potatoes as her contribution to the family dinner.  The
smells of butter and herbs and starches filled the room and made her mouth
water.  She fed a bite to Brutis scooped onto her finger, giggling as he
licked it off.  Then for some reason, she shivered.  Not cold, a shiver of
fear.  Brutis growled for a moment, then smiled up at her and licked her
hand again, and she felt better, but she didn't forget the moment of foreboding.

The potatoes finished, Mason put them into a decorative giant casserole dish
and carried it down to her car.  Brutis wanted to accompany her, and she
thought long about bringing him, but too many of her relatives were allergic
to or afraid of dogs... it wouldnt be a good idea.  She told him to watch
her apartment for her; that she would be back in a few hours.

Mason drove the fifty miles to her father's sister's house with the heavy
casserole on the seat beside her, as securely buckled in as Mason herself.
 The aroma made her hungrier and as she pulled into the circular drive, she
hoped strongly that dinner would be served soon.

This hope was not to be but at least there were hors d'oeuvres out on the
coffee table and end tables, and Mason took a few on a napkin and told her
uncle she'd like a wine spritzer.  She had left the vat of potatoes in the
kitchen, where the Hispanic help was keeping it hot till mealtime.

She sat quietly on the sofa in her aunt and uncle's den and she listened
to her cousin talk about his job and his fiancee and she smiled and shook
her head when they asked her if she had a boyfriend.  She told them no, she
was too busy with work right now for a social life.  She mentioned being
asked out by a local musician though.  Their relief that she'd turned him
down distracted them from their worry that she hadn't found an appropriate
man in her life.  Mason was pleased to have set that aside; she thought she
might want to find someone cosmetic to assauge both the relatives and the
prospective beaus, for future reference.

As she sat there, she felt the premonition again.  This time it was stronger.
 She thought she heard the crying / alarm again, for a moment, but it was
just the alarm on one of the ovens going off, signaling that its contents
was fully cooked.  She must have let some of this show on her face because
her aunt put an arm around her and smiled to her reassuringly.

She strangely felt detached from their talk.  Maybe not so strangely; it
didn't apply to her anymore.  She wouldn't be growing older, wouldn't be
getting married, wouldn't be having children.  Her life was not of the same
quality as theirs anymore, and what mattered to them was not what mattered
to her.  The thought of married reminded her of the whole situation with
Nick and Constance now, and she frowned.  This luckily coincided with someone's
story of woe, so her expression fit right in.

Sinclaire had attacked Constance, as Nick had been afraid of, and then when
Nick shot him he'd run off, no one knew to where.  Maybe that was what her
foreboding was about... why she'd wanted to bring Brutis with her.  She missed
her dog.  She tuned back into the conversation around her just in time to
hear that dinner was served.  She sure was ravenous.

Mason served herself from the sideboard, then took her plate to her usual
seat at the dining room table.  She put turkey, breadcrumb dressing, broccoli
casserole, sweet potato with marshmallows, and fruit compote on her plate,
making little arrangements of each.  The mashed potatoes that she had brought
as her contribution she put on last, right on top of the turkey, then added
gravy.

The food looked and smelled so good, she completely forgot her foreboding.
 She thought of Lucille asking her what chocolate tasted like, and she put
into her memory descriptions of the tastes of each food so that she could
tell all about them later...

The turkey tasted dry and tangy, like the touch of suede, and the scent of
roasting meat would be the appropriate thing to bring it to mind.  The stuffing
was more soft and moist, the potatoes like clouds with salt, the stuffing
like crushing herbs in your hand...

She couldn't really figure out what to say for broccoli casserole.  It was
always indescribable.  Diving into the sea, perhaps, and coming up covered
in green seaweed.  The sweet potatoes were like waking up in the morning
and having a kiss from someone dear.  That sweet, that tender.  The fruit
was rich and tasted of brandy, and slick, and warm... Mason thought it was
like a night in the tropics, the breeze scented with hibiscus, the air moist
and hot, but not too moist and hot for delicious comfort.

She was so lost in her thoughts over dinner that she spoke not a word, and
when finally the plates were cleared by the Hispanic help and she thought
to look at them, the whole family looked back at her as if she were a stranger.
 The maid clearing her plate patted her shoulder sympathetically.

She felt a sudden sense of connection... These people... were they like the
Kindred she spent such a portion of her social time with... and she was at
the edges, like the servants here... part of the society yet not part.  She
felt a sudden wave of nausea, and got up, racing to the bathroom... but nothing
came up.. she washed her face and felt okay again, but that was because she
was alone with her reflection.  Mason felt a real reluctance to go out and
socialize again.  Then she realized, her time with them was limited... she
wouldn't grow old, and that would cause trouble.  She would have to cut her
ties with her family in ten, or at most twenty years, when it would be obvious
she looked too young.  With that realization she had a renewed desire for
their company, and returned.

Mason much her former self quickly dispelled the concerns, she charmed them
all again as she always had in the past, and things returned to very comfortable.
 Mason felt quite fine the rest of the evening, and the foreboding only returned
as she drove back to her apartment, in her car alone.  Very strong, though.
 Un-ignorable.  The sounds of the crying/alarm she had heard before echoed
in the music on the radio till she turned it off, driving the rest of the
way in silence.

When she reached her home again, Mason hugged Brutis and wept, and she didn't
really know why.  The dog licked her face and whined reassuringly, wanting
her to be okay.  She didnt know if she was or not.