Page 8 of The Cannon
Grandma Birdie comes in for hugs from Kara and me.
“I bought him that because it reminded me of his eyes.”
Oh. My heart is touched by her words, because Grandpa’s eyes have paled in recent years. No longer are they as deep or clear. But she sees them as they were.
He takes her hand and kisses it tenderly. How many times has he kissed that hand? It was young and flawless once. My hands already look different than they did at twenty. At eighty-three hers are dotted with age spots, the veins raised, the skin hatched.
But they’re beautiful, because they held babies and soothed skinned knees. They prepared meals for decades and made a home. They caressed a man’s body. Their flaws were etched by love. Grandpa Davis sees it and so do I.
“That good-looking Texas boy was asking for you, honey. He came over and introduced himself,” she says taking her seat. “I invited him to supper Sunday.”
There’s a glint in Grandma’s eye as she tells me the news. Like I’m going to be thrilled. But she’s misinterpreted what my reaction will be.
“Oh no.”
Kara raises a palm in the air. “That’s it, I’m out.”
“No. Wait. He hasn’t seen you yet!” I say pleading my case.
“Forget it, I’m no one’s second choice. Now let me go find another young pup.”
“Kara! He’s perfect for you!” I call to the retreating body.
All I get in response is a wave of a hand as she heads for her team.
“Bristol, over here!” Atticus calls.
I cross the few yards to the long black leather couch and place my bag on the floor.
“Greetings happy bowlers.”
“Feeling lucky tonight?” Brick says.
“Luck has nothing to do with it. Bowling’s my thing. Hello girls.”
January takes my hand.
“You look pretty.”
“Thanks. This is my winning-the-tournament outfit.”
“Don’t damage your grip. As godmother, you’ll be holding the baby over the baptismal font, you know,” Brick says.
“Don’t you worry.”
“Did Grandma Birdie tell you the new pitcher was looking for you? He’s really nice,” says Charlotte.
“He’s hot too,” Mallory adds under her breath.
She gets a look from both her parents that shuts down further descriptions of the man’s sexiness. They’ve got a teenager on their hands now. When she came into my brother’s life she was a shy girl. Think she’s finding her voice.
“Yes, she mentioned it. I’m not really interested.”
Brick stands and turns to his wife. Picking her legs up, he stretches them out where he was sitting.
“Try keeping them up.”
A look passes between them that is so genuinely loving it warms my heart. I should be so lucky. I doubt I’ll ever feel anything close.
