A Fresh Pot

    The coffee pot finished brewing, but it was less full than usual. As the drips stopped, the smell of coffee covered the smell of smoke better than it had in a long time. No cigarette was burning today, so the aroma only had to compete with stained-on smells.
    Kelly had made coffee for one for only the third time in 37 years. The first time was when Dave could not get out of a business trip to Cleveland, and she could not go because of their niece's baby shower. The other time was four years ago, when he had the first heart attack. She wondered whether the pot would ever brew more than enough to just fill her mug again.
    For the last five day
s, the coffee machine had actually been working harder than usual. Susan and Jeff, their daughter and her husband, had been saying at the house. Bree, Liam, and Eddie, Susan and Jeff's children, also stayed, but they are not old enough to drink coffee. They helped with the wake, funeral, and kept her company for an extra night
    Keith, Kelley and Dave's son, was only able to stay two nights because of work. Dave was so proud when he got the job at that financial firm in Manhattan. He never stopped bragging every chance he got about his son taking Wall Street by storm. Kelly was proud, probably prouder than she ever had been, but could not enjoy it. She felt selfish for not wanting him to move away, but would never show it. She did everything she could to make Dave happy.
    Kelly turned the coffee pot off as soon as she poured the cup, as was her habit. Dave would always throw a fit when any of his hard-earned money was being wasted. Kelly drained the cup over about twenty sips, as she always did. She didn't even like coffee.