Stillness Part V, Chapter 53

Judy was in the kitchen supervising the third attempt at brewing a pot of coffee.

“I don’t see how this can be so hard,” commented Bettina, who was sitting at the kitchen table, stirring sugar and milk into a cup from the previous attempt. “We’ve seen it done so many times.”

“I guess we were never paying attention,” said Judy.

Bettina took a sip and winced.

“What does it prove for you to taste it,” asked Judy. “You never drink coffee. How would you know if it was right?”

Bettina shrugged.

“Even if I don’t like it, I can still tell when it’s not right.”

Judy knew that was true. The first pot had been too black. It didn’t look or smell like the coffee that — Judy caught herself. She was tired of these memories that couldn’t be completed because they were connected to someone who was no longer there. She casually picked up the mug Bettina had been drinking from and dumped its contents in the sink. Bettina didn’t object.

“Lucinda,” said Judy, “how is it that we can remember that there was coffee once but we can’t remember who made it? Or drank it?”

The younger girl, who sat across the table from Bettina, shook her head.