A Treasure of the Heart. Valerie Hansen

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СКАЧАТЬ when he caught himself wishing there was more to be happy about, he’d recall the life he’d led before he’d come to Gumption. There was no comparison.

      His only regret, at this point, was that it had taken him so long to find the right path and start to walk it. He had a lot of catching up to do and he was looking forward to meeting those challenges.

      Chapter Two

      Lillie’s grandparents’ home was one of those brick places that had started out as a simple rectangle and had grown into a sprawling megalith over the years. Darla Sue and Max had raised their own five children, seen them off to college or married or both, and then taken in Lillie, their only granddaughter. It had been clear at the time that Max had considered his child-rearing days completed. He had acted far from eager to welcome another youngster into the house but Gram had treated Lillie as if she were the only bright star in the sky.

      Back then, Lillie had accepted that love as her due, but in retrospect she could see what a strain her presence must have placed on her grandparents and their marriage. To Darla Sue’s credit, she had never complained or said she wished she was free of the added responsibility of a child.

      Max’s pickup truck wasn’t in the drive when Lillie arrived but Darla Sue’s car was. Parking next to a bed of nodding yellow daffodils, Lillie got out and climbed the wooden porch steps leading to the back door. Gram’s latest pair of tattered gardening sneakers had been kicked off and left beside the mat, just as they had been in years past. The familiar sight tugged at Lillie’s memories and transported her back to her childhood. What small feet Gram had. Funny how she’d never noticed that before.

      Smiling and sighing, she knocked on the back screen door, got no answer and let herself in with a cheery “Hello? Gram? It’s me!”

      The kitchen hadn’t changed in years, either. It was still typical of the 1950s, with homemade cabinets of cedar and a floor covered with worn linoleum instead of more modern vinyl. In one end of the kitchen sat the familiar chrome-and-red-plastic dinette set.

      Darla Sue called out her answer from the other room as if Lillie hadn’t been away at all, let alone living in Illinois for years. “Hoo-whee! Lillie, honey. Come on in! You’re just in time. I was fixin’ to make your favorite, fried cherry pies.”

      Uh-oh, she thought. Southern comfort food. The answer to any kind of stress. Run for your life Mr. Bathroom Scale, here comes the new, super-sized Lillie Delaney.

      “Thanks, Gram. Sounds good,” she replied, vowing to limit her intake at all costs. After thirty she’d found that the slightest dab of extra food added to her hips, seemingly overnight, and a fried pie was considerably more than a dab. It was more like a semitruckload.

      When Darla Sue appeared in the doorway from the living room, Lillie’s blue eyes widened in surprise. Most of Gram’s quirks were familiar to her. This latest one, however, was brand new. And it was such doozy she almost laughed out loud.

      Although Darla Sue was fully dressed, her curly hair was tucked neatly beneath a pink bouffant shower cap.

      “What?” The old woman scowled in response to Lillie’s evident amusement.

      “I was just noticing your…um…hat.”

      “What about it?”

      Lillie struggled to keep a straight face and failed. “Did you forget to take it off after you showered?”

      “Nope.”

      “But, you’re wearing…”

      “I know what I’m wearing, girl. I put it on, didn’t I?” She started into the kitchen. “It’s chilly today. I could use a cup of tea.”

      “Okay. Let’s sit and talk a bit. I want to ask you why you haven’t been going to work.”

      The disgusted look on her grandmother’s face made Lillie’s grin spread. Knowing this spry elderly enigma, she’d beat around the bush for a while, then eventually tell all. It was waiting for her to get to the point that was always the most frustrating.

      The older woman displaced a snoozing yellow cat and settled herself in one of the chrome-and-red plastic dinette chairs. She watched quietly while Lillie filled the copper tea kettle, set it on the front burner and lit the antiquated stove with a match before she said, “It’s all that Wanda’s fault.”

      “What is? The cap, or not going to work?”

      “Both.” Darla Sue tapped the pink plastic cap for emphasis. “I couldn’t find my mama’s babushka. You used to play with it when you were little. Remember? It was paisley, with a brown border.”

      “I do remember that old scarf. Whenever I’d put it on you used to say I looked just like the pictures of Great Great-Grandma Emily when she was an immigrant.”

      “That’s the one. Anyhow, it’s missing.”

      One of Lillie’s eyebrows arched. “Okay. What does that have to do with staying home from work?”

      “Everything. And don’t look at me like that, girl. I’m not daft.”

      “Hey, I never said you were. But you are confusing sometimes. Maybe we’d better concentrate on one problem at a time. Tell me about Wanda first.”

      “Okay. She got a newfangled phone. One of those little ones that takes pictures and shows you who you’re talking to.”

      Lillie fetched two mugs and put a tea bag in each before bringing them to the table while she waited for the water to boil. “What does that have to do with the scarf?”

      “I’m getting around to it,” the elderly woman grumbled. “The director at the Senior Center has one of those phones, too, a little blue one. I stopped by there on my way to the market the other day and had a chance to try it out.”

      “And you called Wanda? Gram, that’s long distance.”

      “I know. But I couldn’t think of anybody else who had one of those stupid camera things and the director said it was all right.”

      Lillie nodded, hoping to convey empathy. “Go on.”

      “I was all set to have a fine set-down visit with Wanda, just like we used to do before she moved so far away. Might have, too, if it hadn’t been for that telephone. Wanda took one look at the snapshot of me on her phone and busted out laughing.”

      “Why?”

      Darla Sue’s thin fingers grasped the cap and pulled it off. “’Cause of this.”

      “Your hair?” Lillie blinked, more puzzled than ever.

      “Yep. When Wanda finally stopped cackling like a hen on a nest of fresh eggs, she said I looked like a skunk.”

      “Oh, dear.” Lillie had to bite her lip to keep from agreeing. “You’re letting your hair grow out?”

      “It would appear so.”

      “And that’s why you haven’t been at the café?”

      “Bingo. I always СКАЧАТЬ