Page 69 of Fight for Me
“Yes, you will,” said a voice from the hall. A wheezy laugh announced Grandma Ruby’s arrival moments before she shuffled through the kitchen doorway. “I raised four of them, and I know.”
Lexie grinned as the tiny woman worked her way across the kitchen, grabbing a small glass from a low cabinet as she went. There was already a bottle of apple juice waiting on the counter—Kathleen’s part in a dance they obviously did on a regularbasis. Grandma Ruby poured herself a drink and shakily pulled out the chair next to Lexie, then sank into it as if she’d traveled a great distance.
“I say just let them go in the yard. The house stays cleaner that way,” the older lady advised. “I’ll never forget the time he tried to ‘water’ all my orchids, though he missed most of them. His aim was terrible.”
Lexie nearly choked on her hot chocolate.
Grandma Ruby, however, took a tranquil sip of her juice before going on. “There’s a reason we used to call him ‘Squirt,’” she said.
“Squirt?!” Lexie blurted in disbelief, and Jake’s mother and great-grandmother laughed heartily.
“Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure he’s gotten better,” Grandma Ruby added.
Lexie couldn’t help but laugh with them, though she knew Jake would be mortified. She stopped when she heard the front door open.
“What’s so funny?” a voice called from the entryway, and seconds later, Jake and his father came into the room, rubbing their hands together and tugging off their hats.
“Goodness! I didn’t hear the truck,” Kathleen said, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist.
“We walked back,” Jake’s dad supplied, and he brushed a kiss across his wife’s cheek. “Rob was going to check on Paul’s place since they’re out of town, so he dropped us off at the road.”
Kathleen nodded in understanding, then turned back to the eggs she was cracking into a large measuring cup. Without being asked, her husband lifted a cast iron skillet from the rack above her head and set it gently on the counter. Kathleen touched his arm as he started back toward the hall—a silent “thank you” in a language all their own.
“Nobody told me what’s so funny,” Jake added, pulling Lexie’s attention away from his parents as he crossed the room toward her.
“I’m just hearing stories about baby Jake,” she said, lifting her drink to her lips. “And finding out why they called you Squirt.”
Jake blanched, a pained look crossing his face. “Really?!” he blurted, turning to his mother.
“I didn’t do it,” Kathleen said, holding her hands up in surrender, but the amused expression on her face said she wasn’t sorry at all.
“Relax, Jacob. It’s not like I told her about the time you stripped naked and paraded through ladies’ Bible class like the King of Persia,” Grandma Ruby said, and Lexie doubled over, resting her forehead on the table. Tears streamed from her eyes as her shoulders shook, and she was only vaguely aware of an argument taking place above her head.
“Grandma Ruby!” Jake shouted. “Do you have to?”
“Don’t tempt me, boy,” the older woman said, her voice full of fond affection.
Lexie was still gasping for breath when she sat up, wiping her wet cheeks with the palms of her hands. Her stomach ached, and her face felt like it might split open from the force of her smile, but it was a good feeling—even if it did come at Jake’s expense.
“How old was he?” she managed to ask.
“Oh, about seven, I think,” Grandma Ruby answered.
Lexie burst into another fit of giggles, and Jake groaned, his face locked in a grimace.
“I love that you’re all getting along,” he grumbled, kneading his fingers into Lexie’s shoulders.
“Hush, or she’ll think of something worse,” Kathleen warned, plating the first stack of golden pancakes. “Now, go wash up. Breakfast will be ready shortly.”
Jake gave Lexie’s shoulders another squeeze before bending down close to her ear.
“Please don’t hold this against me,” he begged in a loud stage whisper.
Lexie chuckled and shooed him out of the room so Grandma Ruby could keep talking.
“Tommy’s sister toldme he came home with a jewelry store bag the other day—a really small one,” Ashlyn told Grandma Ruby.
“Tommy’s sister ought to keep her mouth shut,” the older woman said, leaning down to inspect the assortment of treats that sat cooling on the kitchen counter. All the women had been baking since the breakfast dishes had been cleared, and the house was now filled with the scent of everything from cookies and brownies to fruit tarts, pies and creme cakes.
