Gemotions

The aroma of Sunday roast filled the kitchen, a familiar comfort. Grandma sat, her hands folded neatly in her lap, a slight tremor the only sign of her age. Across from her, Sarah, usually bubbling with energy, sat quietly. Her brother, Mark, had just announced his conversion to Buddhism. Sarah took a deep breath, the scent of rosemary doing little to calm the flutter in her chest. She reached for the gravy boat, offering it to her father with a steady hand. "More for you, Dad?" she asked, her voice even.

The conversation that followed flowed like a gentle stream, avoiding the rapids of argument. Sarah listened carefully as Mark explained his newfound beliefs, nodding occasionally. She watched her mother's face carefully, seeing the hurt hidden behind her forced smile. Sarah squeezed her mother's hand beneath the table, her thumb tracing comforting circles against her skin. Later, when the family finally left, she helped clear the table, the rhythmic clink of dishes a soothing counterpoint to the turmoil brewing within.