Page 117 of My Wife
I spin in a circle, wondering how this place and his sweet family produced such a broody man.
After freshening up, I find Liam and his dad downstairs, discussing the game. The mood is slightly more subdued than when Hendrix is in the mix with his more boisterous temperament. Mr. Ellis is somewhere in between, easy to smile but also has a serious side, especially when it comes to the family sport.
Grannie Bell, Aunt Goldie, Grandma Dolly, and a combination of children are on the back porch blowing bubbles on the unseasonably pleasant day. It’s a Norman Rockwell painting with the sun a gilded splatter of peachy melon fading into lavender on the horizon backed by a soundtrack of laughter.
My heart could explode.
When I get outside, KJ hugs my legs and asks me to blow bubbles with him. I’ve never seen him so happy, not even at nursery school. It’s as if he inherently knows this is his family.
It probably helps that everyone fusses over him like he’s the hockey star and not his dad. Liam seems to prefer it that way.
The woman who could be Mrs. Ellis’s twin brings out refreshments and Grannie Bell asks, “Did you bring the fudge?”
“Do you think these kids need sugar right now?”
They’re racing around the yard with the bubbles, seeing if they can make one big enough to jump through. It’s a joyous sight.
I glance over my shoulder. Liam is still inside. I wonder if he was the kind of kid to jump into the mix or if he hung back.
I always did until I met Grandma Dolly and realized that I had to create my own fun.
She samples some of Grannie Bell’s fudge and passes me the container while pointing out the different flavors. German chocolate, peppermint, butterscotch, and peanut butter.
I opt for a mocha and my eyes all but roll back in my head. “It’s so good. You could open a shop in town and sell it.”
“Too much competition. Fudge is popular around here.”
I speak and sign, “That makes me love Brookking Sound even more. I was telling Liam this place looks familiar.”
Grandma Dolly signs and I translate, “Like it was in a movie.”
Not skipping a beat, Grannie Bell answers with her hands and voice, “It was the set ofCookie Cutter Christmasmost recently—coming next holiday season to the big screen nearest you—and several other sweet holiday romance movies before that.” She names a few titles.
Grandma Dolly and I clap our hands together because we both watched one of those sweet films on Christmas Eve together while she was in Cobbiton and I was in Los Angeles. We did a video chat, each made snacks and cocoa, and gushed in all the right places.
“Where are my manners? Here I am telling you all about the fudge and I didn’t properly introduce myself or my other daughter. I’m Belinda and Marigold’s mom. You can call me Grannie Bell if you have room for another.” She smiles warmly at Grandma Dolly.
The younger woman and Belinda’s lookalike also signs while she says, “Around these parts, I go by Goldie, but Liam isn’t too big to still have to call meAuntGoldie.” She pats his arm as he steps in front of the sunset.
To his grandmother, he says, “I didn’t know you could sign.”
“That’s like suggesting I don’t know how to read. Of course, I know how to sign,” she says, all while signing.
“You should’ve taught me.” He helps himself to a piece of peppermint fudge.
“Your hands were too busy with that hockey stick. Now, where was I?” She regales us with a tale about learning ASL when working as a nurse while stationed on a Royal Canadian Navy ship.
“I didn’t know that either,” Liam mumbles while dropping down onto the wicker sofa next to me. The sudden warmth distracts me from Grannie Bell’s story.
“The young petty officers would always come to me with their maladies.” She rolls her eyes. “Headaches, itches, and phantom pains that would miraculously resolve after visiting me in the infirmary. But there were long hours with not much going on. I read theArt of Warthree times, can do sutures blindfolded, and learned how to sign.” Grannie Bell also relays that she taught her daughters sign language basics when they were younger and she adds, “Communication is key whether on a flotilla in the middle of the ocean or at home.”
Too bad she didn’t pass that lesson along to Liam, King of Few Words.
Aunt Goldie playfully nudges her mother’s arm. “She didn’t mention that she gave those petty officers fudge.”
Grannie Bell blushes. “I was their favorite.”
“And one of the few females on the ship.”
