A Good Yarn (Blossom Street #2)(29)

“Grandpa, Grandpa, want to see where you’re going to sleep?” Luke asked, tugging at Maverick’s arm.

“I sure do,” he said, suddenly turning away from Elise. He lifted John into his arms as Luke raced ahead, and the three of them moved down the hallway.

“This is our room,” Luke said, opening the first door on the right.

“And that’s Grandma’s room.” John pointed to Elise’s, which was almost directly across from it.

“And that’s the bathroom for the boys.” Luke hurried over to the third doorway.

“Grandma has her own bathroom, and we’re not supposed to use it no matter how bad we have to go,” John explained. “Mom said.”

Maverick chuckled.

“Grandpa, Grandpa, you know that dangling thing in the back of your throat? Did you know if you pull on it you barf?”

“John Peter Tully, what a thing to say,” Elise chastised, but stopped when Maverick threw back his head and bellowed with laughter. Leave it to a man to find the topic of vomit amusing.

“You get to sleep on the bottom bunk, and Luke and me are gonna share the other one,” John explained and dove onto the mattress. “Mom changed the sheets.”

“That’s ’cause John still wets the bed.”

“Do not,” John screamed, leaping off the bed and swinging wildly at his older brother.

Elise started to move into the room to break up the fight, but Maverick quickly took control, pulling the boys apart. He immediately got them involved in showing him the rest of the house. Seeing that she wasn’t needed, Elise retreated to the security of her own bedroom.

Forty-five minutes later, she sat with her feet up, watching television and knitting. Her mind wasn’t on the news, but on her family; she felt irritated that she’d allowed Maverick to isolate her from those she loved most.

Someone knocked politely at her door and Aurora stuck her head inside. “I hoped you’d join us for dinner,” she said with a pleading look. “David made a point of being home early tonight, and it would mean a great deal to me.”

Elise would rather avoid this “welcome” dinner, but there was little she could refuse her daughter, who’d been so wonderful to her throughout this legal mess. “All right.”

“Thank you.” Gratitude glistened in Aurora’s eyes.

To the best of Elise’s memory, this was the first time Aurora had shared a meal with both parents at the same table. That was a sad commentary and, for her daughter’s sake, Elise wished her marriage had ended differently. She didn’t consider herself an emotional woman, but she found Aurora’s happiness at something so simple poignant enough to bring her to tears.

When Elise finally entered the dining room, David had arrived home from the office and was pouring wine for the adults. Elise had a good relationship with David; as far as she was concerned, he was a model husband. She would be forever grateful that Aurora, unlike her, had had the sense to marry a decent, reliable man who actually worked at a real job.

Aurora was still bustling about the kitchen and Elise joined her. While David and Maverick chatted, drinking their wine, the women carried the salad, sliced roast, mashed potatoes and gravy to the table.

“It’s a feast,” Luke announced grandly.

“Just like Thanksgiving, except without the turkey,” redheaded John added, dragging his chair closer to the table. “I get to sit next to Grandpa.”

“Me too,” Luke insisted, and it seemed the boys were on the verge of breaking into another fight. Once more Maverick smoothly ended the conflict by promising to sit between them.

Despite Elise’s worries, dinner was a pleasant affair. Maverick entertained them with tales of his travels. He’d been all over the world, from Alaska to Argentina, from Paris to Polynesia, touring the places Elise had only read about in books. One day she’d see them, too, she told herself, but the likelihood of that dimmed with every message from her attorney.

Before dessert was served, Elise arranged the dishes in the dishwasher and made the coffee. As soon as she could, she’d return to her room and her knitting. Knowing Aurora would want to spend time with her father and husband, she carried the coffeepot to the living room, where the others lingered.

“Come on, boys,” she said to her grandsons. “I’ll help you get ready for bed.”

This elicited the usual whines and groans.

Elise had expected that. “I’ll read you another chapter from The Hobbit.”

The whines dwindled somewhat.

“Let me read to them, Elise,” Maverick offered.

Elise was perfectly happy to let him assume the task but felt she should warn him. Once she started reading, it was difficult to stop. The boys wanted to hear more and more. They always bombarded her with “Another chapter, Grandma,” or “Please, just to the end of the page.” They begged and pleaded, and she could never say no. It was sometimes a full hour before she turned off the lights. Still, she took satisfaction in knowing that her grandsons had learned to associate reading with pleasure and hoped that books would remain as important to them as they’d always been to her.

“Elise?” Maverick asked again.

“By all means.” She left the small party and hurried to her room. With one ear on the television and the other focused on the room across the hall, she waited for the sure-to-follow battle, grinning wickedly to herself. Maverick was learning a valuable lesson about being a grandparent.