Page 43 of Sugarplum Dreams
“Hello, Marjorie. I am about to go grocery shopping for the first time since I married your son, and he told me to get whatever, because he’s not picky. I was wondering if you could give me a little bit of guidance on what he likes, because even though I know he’s not lying, he’ll eat whatever I cook, I’d like to make things that he enjoys.”
“Well, I can help you out with that. In fact, why don’t you come on over, and I’ll give you the recipes for some of his favorite meals.”
She paused, then said, “Do you have time?”
“I sure do. I have time for any of my daughters, anytime they need me or I can give them a hand. Come on over.”
“I’ll be right there,” she said, hanging up and starting her car, her chest feeling a hundred times lighter. Marjorie was the best.
And she did not disappoint. She met Charity at the door and guided her into her kitchen.
“Here’s my recipe book, and if you want, to make it easy, you can just take pictures of his favorite meals, which I have marked with these Post-it notes. And you can go ahead and write them out later at your convenience or just keep them on your phone.”
“Wow. That will be really handy. I’m so glad you thought of it.”
“Well, I’m so glad you called. It’s so much fun to be needed, and I do happen to know what he really likes. All of my kids can cook, and he had meals that he asked to learn how to make, because he liked them so much.”
“Nice, so he can make these if he needs to.”
“Oh, he can cook anything. He’s a better cook than I am. Wilson… You probably already know this, but pretty much everything he touches turns to gold. We did call him the golden boy, because it seemed that way, but honestly, he’s just the kind of person who really wants to do right. And I think that’s whythings always went well for him. He just seems to have God’s favor.”
“I don’t know. I guess whatever he does, he does it well. And there doesn’t seem to be anything he can’t do, from changing a diaper, to making pancakes for the kids in the morning, to running a farm, to starting a successful business. I…sometimes feel a little outclassed.” She stopped for a minute. “A lot outclassed, actually.”
Marjorie’s matronly eyes seemed to see right into her soul, but there was no doubt that the woman understood what she was saying.
“I think a lot of people who’ve been around Wilson feel like that. He’s definitely one of a kind and just one of those people that other people have a hard time not liking, even if they’re jealous of him.”
“My kids even seem to like him, effortlessly. I’m not jealous that they sometimes prefer him over me, but… I’m surprised.”
“That’s Wilson. You’re a lucky woman. But Wilson’s more blessed than what he knows, I think.”
Charity shook her head. “That’s just the thing. I don’t have anything to offer him.”
“You’re here, aren’t you? You’re humble enough to ask for help. You want to please him. Do you realize that most women wouldn’t? They wouldn’t care what he wanted, or they would have said that he just needed to get used to whatever they do, or they would ask their own mother, but you want to step into his world and make him feel comfortable. And that takes a certain amount of humility, and that’s priceless.”
“Well, everything you said is true about what I want. But it just seems like the normal thing to do.”
“It might be, but not everyone does it.” Marjorie nodded her head and then tapped her finger on the recipe book. “Your effort means more than anything.”
The method Marjorie suggested worked perfectly, and Charity was able to sit in the car and make out a grocery list, and then go to the store and get the things she needed.
Before she had checked out, Wilson had sent her a text.
I didn’t realize until after you’re gone that it would make more sense for us to unload the groceries in my house. I’m sorry I didn’t think of that earlier. Will you let me know what time I can meet you there, and I’ll help you carry the stuff in? Mom is coming to stay with the kids.
I’m checking out now.
They arranged a time to meet, and for some reason, that made Charity nervous. She had been in his house a few times carrying things in as they moved, but even though she was supposed to be making his house her home, it felt…like she needed to ask before she touched anything. Plus, there hadn’t been too many times where she and Wilson had been alone since they’d been married. Usually there were kids around almost constantly. At night, after she put the kids to bed, he always said good night to her at the top of the stairs and went back downstairs by himself. She supposed she could say something along the lines of, “I wasn’t done downstairs, I’m coming back down with you,” but she hadn’t.
She hadn’t been lying when she said it felt good to be able to trust that someone else was downstairs taking care of things, locking up, making sure the house was secure, and she didn’t want him to think that she didn’t appreciate that.
So, her hands sweated and her heart tripped as she pulled in the driveway to his farm and parked beside his truck at his house. He was already out of his truck, wearing a plaid button-down, leaning against the door, watching her pull in.
So handsome, and he looked so capable, so strong and self-assured, and she took a moment to admire him as she pulled in.
She should have backed in, but she didn’t want to take a chance that she might back into his truck, since she was a pretty good driver going forward, but backward had never been her best direction.
“Sorry about the last-minute switch-up,” he said as she pulled in and got out of her car, popping the trunk.
