Love Grows Next Door
Jean Gallagher-Keegan
A frowning woman with steel-gray hair and eyes to match stood at a kitchen window. Her eyes were fixed on a short-for-her-age girl sitting in a large tree outside, book propped on the branch beneath her.
Another woman entered the house from the garage, her crow’s-feet and forehead lines deeper than they’d been that morning.
Jean pointed at the backyard. “Felicity’s been out there most of the day. Came in for a quick few bites of lunch and that was it.”
“It’s been like that lately. Misses her brother.” The girl’s mother shook her head as she peered out the window. “She loves when Dylan visits, but it only gets harder for her every time he flies back to California. She cries for days.”
Jean huffed out a breath, then forced a smile. “Speaking of crying and her big brothers, how’s the new grandbaby? Anderson and Rachel hanging in there? Heard this new addition’s a little spitfire.”
“I’ve helped with six grandbabies, and I thought it’d get easier to watch my own babies struggle. But those early days are hard, Jeannie.”
Jean ignored that old, familiar pinch of pain and patted her sister-in-law on the shoulder.
“I might not know from personal experience, but I can see that they are.” She nodded toward the little girl in the tree.
“Last time I visited, your Lady Lissy was slaying dragons with sticks in the garden. This time, I’ve only seen her read. ”
“Oh, I think she’s still slaying dragons in all her stories in her mind. Falling in love with princes and princesses too.” After a wan smile, Katie’s face fell. “I don’t know what to do with her. I can admit it. She and I butt heads anytime I try anything.”
“You’ve raised four boys and another girl. This one’s that different?”
“She’s like Dilly. But more. She loves so fast but takes rejection so hard.”
“Who’s rejecting that sweet girl? She’s only ten.”
“Oh, you know, the normal girl stuff. Cliques and growing pains. She gets crushes. Teachers say she comes on a bit strong. Truth be told, those teachers don’t always know what to do with her either.”
“She’ll figure it out. What about camps? It’s summertime. Shouldn’t the girl be learning to canoe or somethin’?”
“She got kicked out of the last one.”
Jean snorted. “How’d that little carrottop angel get herself chucked out?”
“A boy snapped her bra strap during lunch, and she bit him. Left a mark too.”
“I’d say that small son of a bitch deserved it.” Jean appraised the reading girl. She was paler than last summer. Too quiet. “No neighborhood kids around?”
Katie shook her head. “They were all the big boys’ age. Empty nests for about a half mile in every direction.”
The girl sprang out of the tree and did a little twirl and dance and shimmy, shaking her T-shirt out and stomping on whatever had fallen out of it.
She replaced the Orioles cap on her head and straightened her two frizzy red braids, and then she may have yelled at the remains of whatever poor creature had had the misfortune to cross her just for good measure.
Yes, she was Jean’s kind of girl.
Maybe Jean needed a little company this summer after all.