Music of My Heart: An Inspirational Christmas Romance by Sophia Isaac

Author:Sophia Isaac [Isaac, Sophia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CUT TO THE CHASE PRESS
Published: 2018-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Alyson stopped in her tracks on the way to the table, the tea cups jostling on the saucers. “You’ve been to Edinburgh, Scotland?”

“Oh, child, I’ve been everywhere.” She opened her arms wide. And let them drop. “But I haven’t been on a plane in I don’t know how long. I’m grounded. Stuck here till I die, I reckon. Hand me one of them shortbreads, I love shortbread.”

Alyson did as she was told, wondering for a second if Marianne and Dottie would approve. But Marianne had given her the pills in pudding, so maybe sugar wasn’t an issue.

The old woman ate the cookie, crumbs falling to her chest. “Buttery goodness. Yes, yes, just like I remember. Those were great years. Me and my Milton. All over Britain and France. So few colored Americans traveled abroad in the 50s that we were a sensation everywhere we went. And when they heard him play . . . Like angels tapping on your very heart. He wanted you to cry, you’d be nothing but tears. He wanted you happy, he’d play a little ditty that you’d hum and whistle for days after. Everybody loved my Milton.”

The woman’s proud face turned melancholy, her lips quivering. Alyson didn’t want her to cry. How would she explain that to the others? “Miss, um, Missus . . .” She realized she didn’t know her last name.

“Yes, child? Oh, is my tea ready?”

“Yes, ma’am. Just a moment.” She poured the Earl Grey slowly, added a button of cream, and carefully stirred. Grandmother seemed content to watch the process. Alyson handed her the tea cup, careful to stay with her in case it was too much or too small to hold. She needn’t have worried. Grandmother held it with both hands, fully realizing her limitations, and sipped gracefully.

Alyson did the math in her head. Marcus’s brother was twelve years older than him, making him forty, so Dottie was likely in her early sixties, and that put Grandmother in her early to mid-eighties. At least. Wow. She didn’t know if she’d ever talked to someone so old. Her grandparents had died when she was still very young.

Grandmother waved one hand at the plate of cookies impatiently, cradling the cup against her bosom. Alyson handed her another shortbread square.

“I could eat these all day long. Who are you again? Not another nurse, are you?”

“No, ma’am, I’m with Marcus. I mean, no, not with Marcus, but he invited me.”

“Where’s Marcus? Is he here? Oh, Milton and I spoiled that boy. Two peas in a pod they were. It tore little Marcus up when my Milty died. Once the diabetes got hold of him, it was all but over. Infections, cut off his toes, cut off his foot. Stayed joyful for everybody by the grace of God. I alone knew how pained he was.” Her eyes grew bright with pooling tears. “Thought it would just about kill little Marcus watching his gramps die piece by piece like that.”

Alyson wondered if that was the reason behind all the sad photos of Marcus when he was a teenager.

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