A Taste of Juniper

"No," you refuse, as I pass the pepper. "It's perfect."

For your birthday dinner, I made a roast, grilled radicchio, and tomato soup. You don't like soup, but my intuition proved correct.

"Is there any more?'

"There's plenty."

"Where's Robin? He's missing out."

"He's at Uncle Ray's. He'll be home tomorrow."

You grin.

"Well, more for me. What's the secret ingredient?"

"Juniper berry juice."

You frown, shrug, and hand me your bowl. In the kitchen, I ladle another helping into your bowl. A bone, white and gleaming, surfaces. I'll bury the rest of Robin tonight, right next to your mother.