Chapter 13 #2
"Little yellow house," I confirmed. "You can't miss it. It looks like a fairy tale cottage that threw up flowers."
"That's certainly a description."
"It's an accurate description."
James made a small sound in the back that was either agreement or a dinosaur noise.
Adam pulled up precisely at three o’clock. Must be the Spec-4 thing.
James pressed his nose against the truck window as Adam parked in the driveway.
"It has so many flowers," he breathed.
We were barely out of the truck before the front door opened, and there they were—Little Grandma in the doorway first, all white hair and sharp blue eyes and the smile that had been causing people to immediately confess their problems for over a century.
Miss Gladiola was just behind her, moving a little slower, but she had just as wide a smile as Little Grandma when she spotted the kiddo.
"Oh," Miss Gladiola said. "Oh, would you look at that child."
James, to his enormous credit, walked up the front steps with great dignity and held out his hand.
"I'm James Beckett," he said. "I have dinosaurs."
Little Grandma's eyes lit up like she'd just placed the last marker on a winning bingo card. She shook his hand with complete seriousness. "My name is Esperance Magill, but you can call me Little Grandma," she said. "I have a book about dinosaurs."
James’ eyes lit up. “You do?”
Little Grandma nodded.
Miss Gladiola stepped up and introduced herself, then walked James inside, already asking him questions about which dinosaur was his favorite, and whether he preferred the ones with horns or the ones without. James launched into a detailed answer, which would probably last through dessert.
"Zoe," Little Grandma said, and she held both my hands and looked at me in that piercing way she had. "You look good, sugar."
"I feel pretty good," I said, and I mostly meant it.
Her eyes flicked once to Adam, then back to me, and her mouth curved. She didn't say a word. She didn't have to.
Once we were seated in the parlor, I wasn’t sure what had captured James’ attention the most, the book or the candy dish.
I understood the dilemma. There were melt-in-your-mouth pastel mints.
I could eat them by the handful, and Miss Gladiola knew it.
She pushed the dish my way. I picked up one mint like a lady. Little Grandma laughed.
She picked up a book from a coffee table from beside the sofa.
“Come sit beside me,” she patted the cushion next to her, and James practically bounced across the room.
The book was enormous and old, with a cracked spine and pages so full of color they seemed to glow.
It looked like a book that had been read by a thousand children and loved by every single one of them.
"This one," he said, pointing immediately at an illustration. "It’s an ally-saurus. It’s mean. He has really strong back legs, see? And his arms are small but they still can do a lot of—" he paused, searching for the word. “Struction. Grandma Sharon said so.”
He looked up and sideways at Little Grandma. You’re my grandma number three. I have Grandma Alice. She lives with Grandpa. I call him Grandpa Doug. Sometimes I call him Colonel on account of him being a colonel. Sometimes I salute him. Like this.”
James gave Little Grandma a salute.
Her lips twitched.
“I don’t salute my other Grandpa, because he wasn’t in the Army. Do you bake brownies? Both my other grandmas bake brownies.”
Miss Gladiola and Little Grandma were both laughing now and so was I.
“James, Little Grandma isn’t really your grandma, that’s just her name. You only have two grandmas,” Adam patiently explained.
James frowned. “But she said I could call her Little Grandma, so that means she’s my grandma.”
Adam wiped his hand over his face. “You’re right, she did.”
“James, I’m your pretend grandma while you live in Jasper Creek. So, the next time you want to bake brownies, you can come to my house. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Little Grandma asked.
“Pretend?”
“Just here in Jasper Creek. But your Grandma Alice and Grandma Sharon are your always grandmas.”
He brightened. “Can we bake brownies today?”
“You’re talking about dinosaurs today, Buddy. And we’re eating whatever these nice ladies cooked for us.”
James assessed his father, and decided to agree. “Okey-doke.”
Little Grandma and James went back to the book, and James was soon making up elaborate stories about each dinosaur, while the four of us did our best not to laugh.
When we eventually made it to the dining room, there were things on that table that Miss Gladiola introduced as family recipes. There was so much food, I thought they must have invited more guests.
“Who else is coming?” Adam asked, reading my mind.
“Oh, this is just for us. We know that a man eats a lot, and that James is a growing boy. And if there is anything left over, we’ll just pack it up for you to take back to the hotel.”
After Miss Gladiola said grace, we dug in. Damn, it was good. I went back for seconds on most everything, and James had three biscuits. Adam was the only one who showed restraint.
At some point, Miss Gladiola looked across the table at Adam, who had been quietly charming all evening in the way that still surprised me a little, and she said, "So. You're the one who was with our Zoe that night."
It wasn't a question.
Adam met her eyes. "Yes, Ma'am."
Miss Gladiola studied him for a long moment. She was clearly assessing him. "Good," she said simply, and passed him the basket of biscuits. He plucked his fourth one out of the basket. Apparently his restraint was gone.
“I was there, too!” James said quickly.
Little Grandma, refilling James's milk, said without looking up, "The people who show up when it matters—those are the ones worth keeping."
I didn't say anything. Neither did Adam. But I felt him shift slightly beside me, not away, actually closer. It felt good.
We said our goodbyes on the front porch under the early stars, James clutching a small illustration Little Grandma had found in a magazine and torn out for him.
He knew it was a Spinosaurus and explained how it would spin around and it’s tail would hit all the other dinosaurs and knock them down so he could get away.
We all agreed that sounded very logical. James hugged Miss Gladiola, then turned to Little Grandma. “I like having you as a pretend Grandma.”
“Thank you, honey. I like having a dinosaur expert I can talk to. Be sure to come on back and visit real soon, you hear?”
“I will.”
Adam picked up a tired James and started down the stairs, and Little Grandma took the opportunity to cup my face in her hands. "Pay attention, Sugar. The good ones… The ones that bring you joy… They don't announce themselves with a bang. Sometimes they’re just a steady presence."
“I understand,” I whispered.
On the drive home, James fell asleep before we'd cleared Elm Street, the stegosaurus backpack slumped against his side, the Spinosaurus illustration folded carefully in his hand.
Adam drove, and I looked out the passenger window at Jasper Creek going by in the dark—the hardware store, the old bank building, the light still on at Java Jolt.
"Thank you for taking us," I said.
Adam was quiet for a moment. "Thank you. I don't know how to describe what that was."
"Little Grandma and Miss Gladiola," I said. "That's just what they are."
He nodded slowly, like he was filing that away somewhere important.
I turned back to the window. The town was small and lit and familiar, and it gave me comfort. Just like the two ladies had. No matter what was going on in my life, this town and the people in it wrapped around me like a warm welcome.
Blessed. That was the word for it.
We both felt it. I was pretty sure we both knew it.
Neither of us needed to say so.