A Family To Cherish Read Free

that’s okay, honey. Some folks do eat meat.”
    â€œIf you don’t want any roast beef, maybe you’d like some peas, Janee,” said Barbara, forcing her tone to remain pleasant.
    â€œShe loves peas,” said Nancy.
    â€œDo not,” said Janee.
    Barbara gave the child a heaping spoonful of peas.
    â€œBarb, are you still giving piano lessons here in your home?” asked Nancy.
    â€œYes, Nan. I have a dozen students.”
    â€œThat’s marvelous. Do they perform anywhere?”
    â€œThey give a recital at the school twice a year. It’s quite an event.”
    â€œAnd are you still playing piano for the church?”
    Barbara drew a sharp breath. “No, I gave that up quite a while ago.”
    There was a sudden lull in the conversation. Barbara’s mouth went dry. Was everyone waiting for her to explain why she would give up playing the piano when she loved it so much?
    â€œSo, Mr. Myers, what kind of work do you do?” asked Clive, breaking the silence.
    â€œWhatever I can get,” said Paul between mouthfuls of roast beef. “I design computer software programs. Games mainly. For kids. Ever hear of Appalachian Ape Antics? Or The Elephant and the Eggplant? Or The Owl and the Octopus?”
    â€œCan’t say that I have.”
    â€œNot my best work,” conceded Paul.
    â€œJanee loves your games, Paul,” said Nancy, patting his arm. “Don’t you, Janee?”
    Janee didn’t answer. She was carefully lining her peas up in her spoon.
    Doug turned to Clive. “Speaking of kids and games, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the hospital’s plans to complete the new children’s wing.”
    â€œOh, yes, the children’s wing. How’s that going?”
    â€œGreat, Clive—if we can just get the funds to finish the job.”
    With a triumphant little smile, Janee piled the last of her peas in her spoon. Slowly she lifted the spoonto her mouth, where it remained poised unsteadily in the air for a moment.
    â€œEat your peas, darling,” urged Nancy.
    â€œDon’t like peas.”
    â€œJanee, your mother said to eat your peas,” said Paul.
    â€œNo!” With a twist of her wrist Janee flicked the spoon away from her mouth, catapulting the peas across the table. Two landed unceremoniously in Mrs. Van Peebles’s cleavage. Dead silence reigned as all eyes focused on the two small green peas nestled in the matron’s ample bosom.
    Harriet stared down in horror at her embarrassing dilemma. “Merciful heavens!” she murmured under her breath.
    Her husband leaned over and made a gesture as if to retrieve the peas, then apparently thought better of the idea. At last Harriet carefully plucked the peas from her bodice and placed them on her plate. “I think I’ve had quite enough peas,” she said faintly.
    â€œI’m so sorry, Harriet,” said Barbara, her face flushing.
    â€œIt was just an accident,” said Nancy. “Wasn’t it, Janee? You didn’t mean to hit the nice lady with your peas, did you?”
    Janee’s lower lip trembled, but before a geyser of tears erupted, Mrs. Van Peebles again broke into a sneezing frenzy.
    â€œBarbara, dear, are—are you sure you don’t have cats?” Harriet stammered between sneezes.
    â€œI’m afraid we do,” Barbara admitted. “Tabby was outside, but somehow she got inside. I’m so sorry.”
    Mrs. Van Peebles looked at her husband with red, watery eyes. “Maybe we’d better go, Clive.”
    Doug shoved back his chair and stood up. “Please, don’t go, Harriet. We’ll find the cat right away and put her out.”
    Suddenly everyone but the Van Peebles was leaving the table and looking for the cat. Random choruses of “Here, kitty, kitty,” rose from the living room and dining room, but there was no sign of the animal. Just when Barbara was ready to admit