Page 78 of Resisting Fate
Chapter Eighteen
Missy followed Ben up the path to his grandmother’s ranch home in Eastman, a little nervous to meet the woman who’d raised Ben after his mom’s death. She needed to make a good impression because she knew his grandmother meant the world to him. His grandmother had moved into the house Ben had grown up in so he’d have that stability. Missy wished her aunt would’ve done the same. It wasn’t easy to start over in a new home and new school while grieving her family.
They reached the concrete front porch, and Ben entwined his fingers with hers, gave her a quick kiss, and rang the bell. His easy affection was a nice distraction. One day she’d get used to it, she supposed, but now it gave her a small jolt of surprise every time.
The door swung open and Missy’s jaw dropped. Sweet Mrs. Walsh from church stood there in a red sweater with a big Christmas tree on it that blinked with tiny multicolored lights. She had a small red bow clipped to her white jaw-length hair. Ben stepped inside, swallowing his petite grandmother up in a hug. Missy followed behind, her mind whirling.
His grandmother pulled away from Ben and beamed at Missy. “I knew you’d be together by Christmas!”
“I didn’t know you were Ben’s grandmother,” Missy said, looking at Ben and then back to his grandmother. Of course, there was no family resemblance since Ben was adopted. Their last names were different too, so she couldn’t be faulted for not putting it together before.
“Proud to be,” Mrs. Walsh said. “Come in, come in, have a seat. Merry Christmas!” She muttered to herself as she hustled into her living room, where a plate of peanut butter cookies waited. Each cookie had a Hershey’s Kiss pressed in the center.
Missy took a seat next to Ben on the cushy beige sofa. Mrs. Walsh sat in a blue high-back chair next to them, looking delighted, a big smile on her face.
Ben took a cookie. “Thanks, Grandmom. Love your peanut butter Kiss cookies.”
“That’s why I made them,” Mrs. Walsh said. “Always take care of my cutie patootie.”
Missy bit back a laugh. Ben just grinned.
A bizarre thought occurred to Missy. “Mrs. Walsh?”
“Yes?” The older woman’s blue eyes twinkled with glee.
“Did you send Ben to the church bazaar specifically to meet me?” Missy asked.
Mrs. Walsh laughed. “I sent him to get his gift.”
Ben chuckled. “Which was Missy. I get it now.” He made a face at his grandmother and asked in mock anger, “Now what made you think I wanted to be set up?”
“You’re thirty-one years old, for crying out loud,” Mrs. Walsh retorted. “Single and wilting on the vine. Besides, Missy here is like you, a good person with a deeply compassionate nature. Good people. Two good people who belong together.” She smiled smugly.
Missy exchanged a wry look with Ben. They’d been had, a total setup, but both of them were too happy to care. Maybe they’d both wanted to believe in fate. You know what? Maybe some of it was fate. After all, it wasn’t like Mrs. Walsh knew Missy, like Ben, had been adopted and lost her parents. She’d never shared that kind of personal info with anyone but her sister. There was something unique about her and Ben’s common backgrounds that bordered on the mystical.
“Ha!” Mrs. Walsh exclaimed. “I’m not hearing any complaints. Of course, Ben here is slow to make his move—”
“I am not slow,” he protested. Missy laughed.
Mrs. Walsh continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “So I had to make a little more effort. Missy, when I saw you working as an elf at the mall, I sent him over the very next day for a watch battery. That watch has been dead for years!”
Missy grimaced. “I’m not sure seeing me as an elf actually helped my case. I looked utterly ridiculous.”
“You looked adorable!” Mrs. Walsh declared.
“And the short skirt helped too,” Ben put in with a wink.
Missy laughed and shook her finger at his grandmother. “You’re tricky. I never would’ve guessed it was you behind all those times I ran into Ben. I thought it was just because he and I worked in the same town and knew a lot of the same people.”
Mrs. Walsh held the plate of cookies out to Missy. “Eat. You’re too skinny.” The sweetness of the gesture made Missy’s throat catch. Mrs. Walsh was looking after her like family.
Missy took a cookie. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Walsh nodded once and declared, “I told Ben he’d marry a redhead.” Everyone at church had seen Missy with red hair for a short time.
Ben groaned. “Subtle.”
Missy took a bite of cookie, not commenting on the marriage thing. She knew Ben wasn’t on board with marriage, he’d told her that before, and she wasn’t too keen on the idea after her traumatic first marriage.
