Page 4 of Mind Games

“I love them to pieces and back again. One of these days, Waylon and Caleb are going to settle down and give me more grandbabies—since the two of you seem to be finished there.”

“We hit the grand prize with two.” John toasted her.

“Well, from where I sit you surely did. I’m hoping my boys and their ladies-to-come will be as generous as you, and give me the time to watch those babies grow. Means the world to me.”

“We’re never going to talk you into moving to Virginia, are we, Mama?”

Lucy just smiled out at the mountains.

“I’m an Appalachian woman, darling. I’d wither away if you planted me somewhere else. Now, I’m going to go make some buttermilk biscuits. No, you sit right there,” she ordered. “You’ve had a long drive, and I haven’t. Tonight I get to spoil my grown-up babies, too.”

“You spoil us all, Lucy, and we’re grateful you do, you will.”

When Lucy went inside, John reached over to squeeze Cora’s hand. “Go on in and talk to her about our compromise. See what she thinks while the kids are occupied.”

With a nod, Cora rose and went inside.

She sat at the island while Lucy grated butter she’d frozen into a bowl of flour.

“You got your something-to-talk-about face on.”

“I do, and we think it’s a good thing. I hope you will.”

“I’ve got my I’m-listening ears on, baby mine.”

“I miss you, Mama.”

Lucy’s hands stilled a moment, and her heart swam into her eyes. “Oh, my darling girl.”

“I know your home’s here, and you know I made mine in Virginia. But it’s not so big a distance, not really. I miss my brothers, too. Never thought that’d happen,” she added, and made Lucy laugh.

“They surely did dog their big sister. But they loved you, just like those two outside love each other. Brothers and sisters, they gotta squabble. It’s a job of work.”

“Well, we did our job of work, that’s for certain. Caleb’s moving to New York City.”

“He told me.” After tossing the butter and flour, Lucy set it in the refrigerator to chill a few minutes. “Just like he told me there was this newfangled invention called an airplane, and he could use it to come back to the homeplace and see me. And how I could do the same to go up there so he could take me to see a Broadway show.”

“It’s a chance for him to do what he loves, and what he wants, but we won’t see as much of him as we did when he lived in DC. And Waylon’s mostly in Nashville or traveling.”

“My minstrel man.”

“Mama, you know John’s family…” She trailed off, glanced out toward the back porch. “They don’t think much of us. Me anyway. And they’ve got no interest in the kids.”

“That’s their very great loss.” Lucy’s mouth tightened before she said something she shouldn’t. “I feel sorry for them and their closed-off hearts.”

Or she tried to.

“That man out there—the one running around with his children after driving all this way? If I could’ve imagined just the right husband for my girl, just the right daddy for my grandbabies, I couldn’t have imagined better than John Fox. He’s as dear a son to me as the ones I birthed.”

“I know it. More, John knows it. And you’re more a mama to him than his own.”

“Another blessing for me. Another reason to feel sorry for the one who can’t see the gifts laid in front of her.”

Cora rose to make sure John was out of earshot. “You know what they did for Thea’s twelfth birthday? Sent her a card with twelve dollars inside. One for each year. It came a week late on top of that. It’s not the money, Mama,” she said quickly. “We don’t care they’ve got piles of it. We’re all doing fine. It was … The card said ‘Happy Birthday, Althea. Your Grandparents.’ That’s all it said.”

Lucy picked up her wine, took a small sip. “Did you have Thea write them a thank-you?”

“I didn’t have to. She sat down and wrote one: ‘Dear Grandparents, Thank you very much for the birthday wishes and the twelve dollars. I hope you both are well. Your granddaughter, Thea.’”

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