A basket of fruit sat on the kitchen table like an unspoken accusation. Nora Whitman glanced at it once more and let out a weary sigh. From the next room the television droned onher husband, George, was glued to a programme about fishing. He seemed completely unfazed.
Darling, are you coming? The teas getting cold, George called.
Nora grimaced. He couldnt even warm his own cup.
Im coming, she replied, reaching for a jar of jam from the fridge.
Passing the hallway mirror, she instinctively smoothed the few grey strands at the front of her hair. How swiftly the years had flown. It seemed just yesterday she had married George, and today they were celebrating their daughters sixtieth birthday.
The thought of their daughter, Ethel, made Noras heart tighten. They had not spoken for a week after a quarrel, and Ethel hadnt called. As usual, Nora felt she was to blame for everything, even though she had meant well.
On the table, beside Georges unwashed mug, lay a simple woodenframed photograph of their weddingyoung, smiling, Nora in a full dress, George in a formal suit. Who could have guessed that forty years later their lives would have settled into a routine of unspoken grievances?
You still stuck in there? Georges voice rang again.
Nora shook off the memories and carried a tray of tea and jam into the living room.
Still brooding over it? George asked without looking away from the screen.
Youre completely unfazed! Nora snapped. If youd just called Ethel and apologised
For what? George finally turned. For the gift we gave her? Thats absurd.
Nora set the tray down on the coffee table and perched on the edge of the sofa.
It was a terrible gift, George. I know that now.
Just a set of china, he shrugged. Quite pricey, by the way. We paid about thirty pounds for it.
Its not about the money, Nora sighed. You should have seen her face when she opened the box. Shed hated that set thirty years ago, yet we kept it and gave it to her for her jubilee! She thought we were mocking her.
We werent mocking anyone! George snapped. We thought it was a lovely presentalmost a rarity.
Nora shook her head. Men rarely grasp the subtleties. The china had been a wedding gift from Georges distant relatives. Nora remembered young Ethel turning a cup over in her hands and saying, Mum, this is dreadfuleverythings covered in flowers, like a garden, not a cup. The set had stayed untouched in the sideboard until the idea of gifting it to their daughter surfaced.
Tastes have changed, George persisted. Vintage is all the rage now. Those hipsters are always after oldfashioned things.
Ethel isnt a hipster! Nora retorted. Shes the chief accountant at a serious firm and her flat is minimalist, not a grandmothers china cabinet.
So she could have simply said thank you and put it on a shelf, George muttered. Instead she threw a fit in front of all the guests.
Nora recalled the moment. Ethel opened the box, stared silently at the china for a few seconds, then looked up at her parents.
Is this the same set from the sideboard? she asked quietly.
Yes, dear! Nora had replied cheerfully. Remember how you always said it was beautiful?
Silence fell. Ethels face turned pale.
I never said it was beautiful. I could never stand it, and you both knew that, she said.
Thats an exaggeration, George said, sipping his tea. A bad gift isnt the end of the world. Do we have any bigger problems?
Yes, George. The biggest one is that we dont really know our own daughterwhat she likes, how she lives.
George snorted. Dont dramatise. Shes just a difficult character.
Nora was about to argue when the phone rang. She hurried to answer, hoping it was Ethel.
Hello?
Nora? Its Margaret, a familiar neighbours voice said. Could you pop over? Im struggling with these new tabletscant make heads or tails of the instructions.
Ill be there straight away, Nora replied, hanging up.
Who was that? George asked.
Margaret Evans. Ill be over for a moment; she needs help with her medication.
Another of your charity runs, George grumbled. Whos cooking lunch?
Nora exhaled heavily. Theres a pot of borscht in the fridge, just needs reheating.
She threw on a light cardigan and left the flat. The stairwell greeted her with familiar smellsfried fish from the downstairs flat and cigarette smoke drifting up from a young couple on the fifth floor.
Margaret lived alone; she opened the door immediately.
Come in, Nora dear, come in, the elderly lady chirped. Ive baked a cake, lets have some tea together.
Nora tried to decline, but Margaret was insistent. While the neighbour busied herself in the kitchen, Nora examined the framed photos on the wallMargaret with her husband, their daughter, grandchildren, all smiling.
Hows little Ethel doing? Margaret asked, setting a tray of tea down. Hows she coping after the divorce?
Managing, Nora answered vaguely.
And her son, Kevin? Hes at university now, isnt he?
Yes, third year.
Margaret sat beside her and studied Noras expression. You look a bit down today. Something happen?
Nora could no longer hold it in and spilled everythingthe cursed china, the fight with her daughter, Georges obstinacy.
You know, Margaret said after a pause, you need to talk to Ethel yourself, without George. Admit you were wrong about the gift.
She doesnt answer my calls, Nora sighed.
Then go to her! Its not like she lives in another county. Margaret shrugged as if it were the simplest solution.
Nora thought it over. Why not just visit? Pride? Fear of hearing that she and George had become two clueless old folk, unable to understand their own child?
Youre right, she said finally. Ill go to her today.
Good, Margaret nodded. Now lets try some of this cake.
Back home, Nora found George still glued to the television.
George, Im heading to Ethels.
Why? he asked, surprised.
To talk. To apologise for the gift.
Again with your sentimentality, George turned to her. A bad set of china isnt a disaster. Shell grow into an artistic taste someday.
It isnt about the china, Nora said, sitting on the sofas edge. Its about us not listening to each other, not hearing our own daughter.
Fine, George conceded oddly. Just dont tell her I admitted I was wrong. I still think the gift was fine.
Nora merely shook her head. Forty years together and his stubbornness hadnt faded a gram.
Ethel lived in a new suburb, in a sleek apartment block. Nora boarded a bus, watching the passing countryside, pondering how difficult it could be to communicate with those closest to you.
The front door opened and her grandson, Kevin, greeted her.
Grandma? Why didnt you call before coming?
Thought Id surprise you, Nora smiled, handing him a bag of pastries. Is Mum at home?
Shes at work, Kevin replied, taking the bag. Come on, Ill get her.
Nora followed him into the living room. The flat always gave her mixed feelingsadmiration and a touch of melancholy. Everything was modern, minimalist, in soft neutrals. No sideboards, no crystal, no floral carpets. A different era, different values.
Ethel emerged from her study, her face tense.
Mom? Anything wrong?
Nothing, Nora said calmly. I just came to talk.
Ethel glanced at the clock. In half an hour I have a video conference with London.
Ill be brief, Nora settled onto the sofa. Ethel, Im here to apologise for that gift. You were rightit was thoughtless.
Youre apologising for the china? Ethel raised an eyebrow.
Not just the china, Nora interlaced her fingers. For us not understanding you, for living in the past and missing the present.
Ethel sank into the armchair opposite.
Mom, it isnt just the china. Its a symbol, she began slowly. It shows you dont really know who I am, what I live for, what I love.
Thats true, Nora whispered. Weve been stuck in the past, still seeing you as the little girl who once lived with us.
Ethel sighed. The most hurtful thing is you never try to learn the real me. Over the years you never asked what music I listen to, what books I read, what films I enjoy. You just assume you know me better than I know myself.
Youre right, Nora felt a lump form in her throat. Parents often think their children are extensions of themselves, not separate individuals.
Yes! Ethels tone brightened. Im also at fault. I never ask what youre interested in, what worries you. I only drop by once a month, bring groceries, and leave, as if its a duty.
Were all at fault, Nora smiled through tears. But its not too late to change, is it?
Not at all, Ethel replied.
Then tell me, what music are you listening to these days? What are you reading? Nora asked.
Ethel laughed. Seriously?
Very seriously, Nora nodded. We have about twenty minutes before my conference. After that Ill step out so I dont disturb you.
Alright, Ethel thought for a moment. Im into jazz, especially the 1950s. I read professional journals for work, but for pleasure Im hooked on detective novels. Ive also started learning Spanish because I want to visit Barcelona.
Nora listened, feeling as if she were meeting a new person. How much she had missed over the years.
And your love life? she ventured gently. Its been three years since the divorce
Ethel smiled shyly. There is someone. Hes seven years younger, but hes kind. He teaches history at the university. Kevin likes him.
Bring him over for dinner, Nora suggested. Well get to know him. And I promise, no more china gifts!
Both laughed.
You know, Ethel said, maybe I was too quick to reject the set. Its actually lovely, a proper Provençal piece. Vintage is valuable now.
Dont try to make me feel better, Nora shook her head. It was a dreadful gift.
No, really! Ethel exclaimed. I might even put it in the cottage we bought last year. Did I tell you about that?
No, Nora felt a sting of shame. See how much we dont know about each other?
Lets catch up, Ethel said, glancing at her watch. I have to get ready for the conference, but you should come for the weekend, bring Dad too. Ill show you the cottage.
They hugged, and Nora felt something important return to her lifesomething she had almost lost through her own blindness.
On the way back, Nora stopped at a shop and bought a good bottle of wine and a box of chocolates. George met her at the door, looking worried.
How did it go? he asked.
Made up, Nora said, handing him the shopping bag. And guess what? Ethel now likes the china set; she wants to place it at the cottage.
See? I told you it was a good gift! George declared triumphantly.
Nora just smiled. Let him think he won. The real victory was that the familys peace mattered more than any set of plates.
George, she said as she moved toward the kitchen, did you know our daughter is learning Spanish and plans to go to Barcelona?
No way! George exclaimed. Why Spanish at her age?
Because life doesnt end at sixty, Nora replied, pulling out glasses. And neither does ours. Maybe we should learn something new too.
George looked skeptical. Like what?
Like listening to each other, Nora poured the wine. And choosing gifts with heart, not from a dusty sideboard.
Agreed, George raised his glass. To a new chapter in our lives!
The fruit basket still sat on the table, but now Nora looked at it differently. Even the most awkward present can become the spark for something genuine and meaningful. The lesson was clear: understanding and humility are the greatest gifts we can give one another.
