“He’s growing into a fine young man,” Olive said softly from the swing. “You’re wonderful with him.”
Emil shrugged. “He’s easy to be around.”
“No, he isn’t,” Olive said. “I’ve met bears less prickly than he is these days. My mother has run to yours for advice more times than she’d care to admit.”
Emil joined his wife on the swing. “As if those two need any excuse to drop whatever they’re doing for tea and a bit of gossip.”
Olive laid her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her. “We’re awfully blessed.”
“That we are.”
The door opened a few minutes later, and Robert emerged, the tray in his hands rattling with crowded porcelain coffee cups. The rich aroma of roasted coffee mingled with the bright scent of Mor’s lemon breakfast cake.
“Robert, you shouldn’t have,” he drawled.
Robert rolled his eyes. “They made me.”
Emil glanced over his shoulder as the screen door banged open once more. Anna and Beata poured through, chattering and cooing over the bundle in Beata’s arms.
“I guess they both had the baby,” he whispered to Olive. “We should have known.”
“Jonathan has the best grandmothers he could ever ask for,” she said loudly, and Emil chuckled when both women flushed and preened.
Beata lowered the baby into Olive’s arms. “He’s all washed for his lilla mor. You should have heard the little coos he was making in the bath. Looks like we have another water baby in the family!”
Emil smiled at his son, who stared up at his mother with her exact eyes. He waved his little fists in the air and gurgled. Olive bundled him close and nuzzled her nose against him, murmuring something low and silly that made the baby squeal. He gripped a handful of her hair and pulled with surprising strength, and she only laughed, brushing his cheek with the back of her finger.
It took Emil a moment to realize his mother was talking.
“After breakfast, we’ll be heading to the shops for a few more nappies,” she said. “And last time I was there, I saw the most precious set of wooden blocks. Our Johnny will love them.”
“The baby doesn’t need blocks yet, Mor.”
His mother gasped with dismay and clutched Anna’s arm. “Did you ever hear such blasphemy?”
“It a grandmother’s duty to spoil her grandchild,” Anna insisted.
Emil was going to argue, but Olive nudged his thigh with hers. He glanced down at her, and she shook her head slightly. “He’ll grow into it, darling. And a few more nappies won’t hurt.”
Anna let out a hurrah, then busied herself slathering jam across a piece of cake.
“Are you sure?” he whispered.
“She’s going to town,” Olive whispered back, her eyes watering. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Wonderful and miraculous. It was almost hard to believe the kind, effusive woman had once been unable to rise from bed. She still struggled some days, but she was happy again. She didn’t cry as often, and she looked forward to the future. Olive had worked tirelessly to get her mother the help she needed. She’d found doctors willing to make house calls, and she’d hired a nurse who understood what it meant to be truly afraid of leaving home. It was a long road full of tonics and rest, but also conversation, walking when possible, and a structure to the days that gave her mother something to hold onto. And through it all, Olive had been at her side.
“It is wonderful,” he agreed. “Like you.”
She smiled and tilted her face toward his for a kiss.
“Ugh, can you two stop doing that when I’m around?” Robert complained, leaning over to pick up another piece of cake. “It’s disgust?—”
His words morphed into a squeal as Emil sprang to his feet. Before he could run, Emil’s bare foot found its mark square in the middle of his brother-in-law’s backside. Robert pitched off the dock and into the lake with a terrific splash that sent a sheet of water arcing into the air. He surfaced a moment later, spluttering.
“Now you don’t have to watch,” Emil said sweetly.
Laughter rang across the deck as Robert hauled himself onto the deck, hair plastered across his forehead, clothes dripping.
