Someday Home by Lauraine Snelling

both hands, and after a gentle squeeze, he started “Come, Lord Jesus…”
    The two women chimed in with the childhood prayer they had all grown up with. At the amen, he smiled at Judith. “We are glad to welcome you here, too; only as far as we’re concerned, you are not a guest, but a beloved sister.”
    That did it. Judith watched his retreating back through a liquid veil. Blinking failed to stop or even slow the flow.
    “It’s okay, Jude, we just want you to understand that for us, family means we stick together.”
    Jude, Judy, names never used in her father’s presence. Her mind took off for a moment. He used to call her something, a nickname when she was little, before all of life changed in Rutherford. What was it? Or perhaps she made it up. No!
    “What is it?” Melody’s voice came soft and easy on the ear.
    “Do you remember my father calling me a name not Judith?”
    “When we were little?”
    “Yes.” Her mind kept digging for it, but the more it dug, the further off the memory floated, tantalizing but leaving. As her mother always said, think on something else and it will return eventually. “Homemade rolls!” One sniff and who cared about a stupid name?
    “She said comfort food.” Anselm set a basket with a cross-stitched linen towelette folded over the rolls.
    “That’s the one I made for you.” Her eyes widened as she smiled at her cousin.
    “Of course. I treasure it. And your mother’s needlepoint is on the rocker in the living room.”
    Anselm returned with another steaming dish in one hand and a plate of pickles in the other. “Green bean casserole, made to order, the traditional way.” He sounded like a waiter announcing the works of a great chef.
    “I haven’t had green bean casserole since—since I don’t remember when.”
    “Did you ever learn to cook?”
    Judith shook her head and shrugged. “No, not ever. Guess I better start learning.” She lifted a roll and inhaled the scent before putting it on her plate.
    The conversation while they reveled in the meal caught them up on all that had happened since her father’s funeral and of other things during his last days, along with the happenings of the family. When they finally laid their napkins on the table, Judith wasn’t sure if she could even stand, she was so full.
    “Dessert later.” Anselm picked up his plate and silver.
    “Good. Much later, I hope.” Judith fought to keep from groaning.
    “I’ll go unload the car while you two clear the table, okay?”
    Judith looked up from gathering plates from the table. “Don’t bother with the boxes in the trunk yet. Anything I’m going to be needing is in the car.”
    “Your sewing machine and the projects?” Melody asked.
    “Yes. And clothes. I didn’t bring a whole lot. Well, some are in the trunk, too.”
    Melody stared at her. “You didn’t get rid of everything?”
    “No, but I put most things in storage until I have a place to live.”
    “We can turn your bedroom and the one next to it into a suite, almost like a mini-apartment, only you’d have the whole house, too.” Melody followed Judith into the kitchen, both of them carrying things from the table. “You go sit down, you can be company tonight at least.”
    “Sorry, if I sit down I will most likely be out before my back hits the cushion.”
    Judith took over loading the dishwasher, since right now she was having a hard time remembering her name, let alone where things went in Melody’s recently remodeled kitchen. “How’s your mom?”
    “Loving her new digs. We moved her to a retirement complex where she has her own apartment, lovely place. Much against her better judgment, she is seeing, as she puts it, a gentleman friend.”
    “My word. Aunt Kit?” Kit was short for Catherine, her own mother’s youngest sister. Her husband, Don, had passed away not long after Judith’s mother died.
    “I know. But he is delightful, and they share so many interests, opera being one of them.” She