Stephanie's spirit soared as she placed the final entree upon the tablecloth and took her seat at the dinner table.
The firedrop exceeded even her expectations. That alien blossom had transformed her and Paul's lonely, unused dining room of shadows and dust into a glorious chamber illuminated in a warm, crimson glow. The firedrop slowly twirled upon a small, motorized lazy-Susan placed in the table's center. Paul had succeeded in bringing a fresh firedrop home, and its the golden motes of its pedals still pulsated strongly before reflecting off of the table-setting's fine china to bounce and dance upon the walls. Stephanie felt the firedrop warming her entire home. She had never felt so comfortable or content.
Stephanie's main course of poultry was burned on the outside and rather undercooked at the bone. She had steamed the broccoli and cauliflower long enough to chase any flavor from the vegetables. Her tiramisu dessert failed to properly set. The result of her kitchen labor neither surprised nor disappointed Stephanie, who had never considered herself adept at the culinary pursuits.
But none of Stephanie's cooking shortcomings much mattered. That firedrop that swirled and glowed upon the center of the table made everything gourmet.
"You and Paul have thrown such a wonderful dinner," beamed the widow Mrs. Laverne Pine as she set down another forkful of lumpy mashed potatoes to turn her full attention upon the alien blossom glowing in front of her. "It's just something how everything sparkles in this crimson glow. It's as if the firedrop makes everything in its vicinity so much more beautiful."
Lance Coleman had hardly touched his food. He was too busy staring at the firedrop's pulsating beads of gold. "Oh, that's a wonderful sentiment, Laverne. You should see how your pearls glisten in the red light. I must say, Stephanie, that I don't think I've ever seen such a wonderful presentation of the firedrop, and this is far from my first firedrop dinner. The use of that turning plate was a masterful touch for how it makes the gold just spin all around us."
"I am swooning in such color," the guest Julie Meadows winked in the light.
"Thank you all so much." Stephanie's eyes blurred with tears. All of her and Paul's work was made worthwhile. The sacrifices they had each made to earn such an occasion no longer tasted bitter to their palettes. "I can't begin to tell all of you how happy it makes me feel to know you all are enjoying the light of that firedrop."
Julie Meadows cast aside whatever etiquette an occasion of firedrop dining demanded to stand from the table and embrace Stephanie's sobbing shoulders.
Paul leaned towards his wife an planted a kiss upon her cheek. "I'm so proud of you, honey."
"Your eyes are incredible in the light, Paul," and Stephanie returned her husband's kiss. "Oh, what's the point in waiting for the best part of dinner? I know there's little need to waste any time trying to pretend the food is worth the visit. Let me run into the kitchen and bring back everyone's piece of the blossom."
The dinner guests applauded as Stephanie floated beneath an arch into the kitchen. She returned rolling a buffet table topped with six glistening porcelain plates. Each plate held a glowing portion of that blossom that continued to twirl upon the center of the table. The guests inhaled in reverence as Stephanie handed a plate to each of them. Everyone held their breath as they stared at the splendor gifted them, the crimson glow of the firedrop accentuating the ecstasy that shaped every face.
Mrs. Pine nearly fainted. "Oh, it's incredible, Stephanie. Absolutely incredible."
Lance Coleman clapped like a little boy. "How in the world did you fold each slice into such incredible shapes?"
"It's amazing," a smile spread across Julie Meadow's face.
A pedal deftly trimmed and folded into an elaborate creature rested on each of the diner's plates. Though severed from their original blossom, each crane or swan, dog or cat, butterfly or grasshopper lost none of the intensity of its glow. The golden motes of light coursed across the folds of wings and limbs. It was as if Stephanie had crafted each peel of a firedrop creature out of magical, breathing paper. And all those fine-folded animals shared a common pulse that matched the rhythm thrown by the beat of that blossom slowly turning upon the center of the table.
Stephanie's guests stood from the table and softly applauded. Paul raised his glass in a silent toast, and even the red wine seemed to have a heartbeat as it was bathed in the firedrop's light.
"How did you do it?" Lance Coleman remained amazed.
Before Stephanie could regain enough composure to respond, her mother answered for her.
"I never knew my daughter was such an artist," Lauren had remained silent through the dinner, but her pride no longer allowed her to remain silent. "I've never seen her work with such an attention to detail. She used a special carving knife for each piece. She had some reservations about how much that knife cost, but I told her that an artist can't scrimp on her tools if she ever expects to create a masterpiece. I wonder how long my butterfly will last. I didn't think Stephanie had enough for her mother, but she took such care so that I had a creature of my own. I've never been so proud of her."
"I knew I needed to save enough for you," Stephanie could hardly speak through her tears. "I knew you would understand if you could sit at this glowing table and see for yourself how the firedrop sparkles."
Lauren was almost overcome by emotion herself as she gingerly took the glowing firedrop butterfly into her fingers. "I'm afraid I still have one, lingering question. What do I do with it? Do I eat it?"
The others around the table giggled before Lance Coleman answered. "None of us know, Lauren. None of us really know."