“Still there?”
“Yes.How about this coming weekend?We couldfly up.”
“Please do.I haven’t seen you in way toolong.And your beau is very welcome too.”
“… Beau?You’re worse than I am about being ahopeless romantic.”
“See you soon, precious daughter.”
“I love you, Dad,” Lily sniffed.
“Love you too, sweetie.Can’t wait to seeyou.”
Sam hung up the phone and that naggingthought kept coming forefront.Sandy Johnson.Johnson….No, it willbe fine.Just fine.
* * *
“A grape harvest?Are you kidding?And inwhat ways are you not like Lucille Ball?Do you have a bandanna foryour head?You’ll need one for the grape stomping.”Sandy rolledhis smiling eyes at her.
“For one thing,” she huffed, “I don’t have abest friend named Ethel.My best friend is named Sandy and he canbe a real pain in the ass sometimes.”
“What I’d really like to see is the assemblyline scene in that one episode.Remember when Lucy and Ethel workedat a candy factory, the assembly line was going too fast and theystarted stuffing chocolate in their mouths,” he poked her arm.“That was a comedy high point and you do like chocolate.”
“Let’s see.What is it I like about you somuch?Oh, I know.It’s your smart mouth,” Lily poked him back.
“At least I don’t go around fainting in thesheriff’s office.”
“Technically, I knocked myself out, remember?You laughed your socks off at me.”
They were in the kitchen at her house,laughing, and Sandy was helping her make fudge.Mixing all theingredients together, Sandy stirred the molten chocolate as itbubbled away.The aroma of fresh cocoa was heavy in the air.
“That smells incredible!Where’d you learn tomake fudge?”
“…From my mother,” she smiled.“Margaret wasalways cooking something in the kitchen that smelled heavenly.Dadwould say she was the best cook in three counties.She would lookat him and say, ‘Only three?’and they’d laugh.”
“Sounds nice.”
“When I was little, I’d pull up a chair tothe stove and watch her work.Those were happy times.”She triednot to sigh.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
“You’re going to owe me lots of money if youkeep saying that,” she teased.“I was thinking about the new poem Iwrote last night.Want to hear it?”
“You bet.I’ve been working on a new onemyself.”
Sandy poured the newly made fudge into a panto cool and set it on the table.
“Come on,” He grabbed her hand.“Let’s gointo the living room and talk about our poems while the fudgecools.Want to?”
What a guy!He cooks, he cleans, hewrites, he’s funny.
“Sure.”
“I feel like Robert Browning to yourElizabeth Barrett.”
She thought about that for a minute, shakingher head.
“You know, Elizabeth’s father didn’t want herto marry Robert Browning.They had a sweet love story and lovedeach other very much.”
