I believe in SantaClaus.com
Published by Bruce Angel at Smashwords
Copyright 2013 Bruce Angel
“I Believe in Santa Claus.com”
Winter had arrived early in Chicago. A giant snowstorm had already dumped six inches of a thick wet snow with no signs of a let up. The huge snowflakes sparkled brilliantly off the light from the street post. In the living room window, a cozy amber glow emanated from the fireplace. The Edwards were in the dining room preparing for their Thanksgiving feast. They lived on the South side of Chicago, in a nice working class neighborhood, called Beverly. They lived in the middle of the block in a brownish red two-story brick house.
The dining room looked like a picture out of a Martha Stewart magazine. A crystal chandelier with twelve lit candles hung over the table. The table itself was right out of the Middle Ages, made of dark mahogany wood with dragons carved into the table’s legs. The chairs were just as ornate. The plates were Mrs. Edwards’s best china. The glasses were of course from Ireland, and grandma’s silverware was being used for the first and only time of the year.
An elaborate spread covered the table. The staples were there: The golden brown turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, candied yams, and cranberries. It was the desserts that made Mrs. Edwards Thanksgiving special: A homemade apple pie, peppered with cinnamon, a pumpkin pie four inches thick, with gobs of whipped cream on top, a plate of assorted chocolates from Bavaria, and as the centerpiece of her creations was a multi-flavored jello mold in the shape of a turkey.