Her Christmas Wedding Wish. Judy Christenberry

Richard said with a smile. “But it doesn’t sound like your afternoon was very restful.”

      Molly raised her gaze to his. “Neither of us needed rest. Toby was curious about his new home. Albert even gave us a tour of the backyard after we unpacked.”

      “Weren’t you cold? I noticed you didn’t wear a coat on the trip.”

      “No, neither of us has a coat because it didn’t get that cold in Florida. But Albert promised to drive us to a store to buy coats tomorrow.”

      “Good. I’ll be glad to pay for them.”

      “If you insist, you can pay for Toby’s. I’ll pay for mine.”

      Richard frowned. He wasn’t used to such resistance.

      “Richard?” His mother stood at the door of the dining room.

      He crossed over to take her hand and lead her to the table after kissing her cheek. “Hello, Mother. It was kind of you to wait for me to get home.”

      “I wanted our first meal to be a family one,” Elizabeth Anderson said.

      “Then let’s all sit down,” he suggested. He showed his mother to the seat at the head of the table. He indicated Toby and Molly should take the two seats to her left. As they did so, he sat in the chair to his mother’s right.

      Once they were seated, Elizabeth rang the small bell sitting beside her plate. Almost immediately, the kitchen door opened and Louisa entered with a tray. She carefully set a bowl of soup in front of each of them.

      Toby leaned over to Molly and whispered, “What is this?”

      Richard, hiding a grin, said, “It’s broccoli cheese soup, Toby, one of my mother’s favorites.” He was feeling relieved that things were going so well. He’d gone to the office and his mother had rested, and the nurse had taken care of the boy, as he’d planned.

      “Oh. Uh, it looks good.”

      “Very nice manners, Toby. Your mother would be proud of you,” Richard said softly. He didn’t want to upset his mother, but Susan deserved her due.

      Instead of bursting into tears as she normally would have done upon mention of Susan, his mother smiled faintly. Their talk had indeed helped her. “Yes, I believe she did a good job teaching Toby proper behavior.”

      “I agree, Mrs. Anderson,” Molly chimed in. “I can’t wait to try the soup. I haven’t gotten used to this cold weather yet.”

      Richard laughed. “It doesn’t get that cold here, Molly. Now in Colorado, this would be late spring weather.”

      “Where is Colorado?” Toby asked.

      “It’s a state north of here where a lot of Texans go to ski.”

      “Water-ski?” Toby asked.

      “No, Toby, snow skiing.”

      “With real snow? I’ve never seen snow, except on TV,” the boy confessed.

      “Maybe after you get your casts off, we can fly to Colorado and try some snow skiing,” Richard suggested.

      “I’d like that!” Toby said in excitement. “Would you like that, Molly?”

      “I’m sure it would be fun, Toby, but I’ll probably be back at work by then.”

      Richard watched the enthusiasm fade from the little boy’s face.

      “But you could send me pictures of you skiing. That would be wonderful. You might even build a snowman for me.”

      “Could we do that?” Toby asked, looking at Richard.

      “Sure, Toby, we could do that.”

      “Right now, though, you need to eat your soup before it gets cold,” Molly said with a smile.

      Richard watched her. While some people would have been overwhelmed by the quick transition, the gamut of emotions and personalities, Molly kept her composure. And she was wonderful with Toby. Now she not only offered a way for Toby to share his excitement with her, but she’d reminded him of his behavior.

      The boy at once picked up his spoon and tried the soup. Then he looked at his grandmother. “The soup is very good.”

      “Yes, it is, isn’t it? We’ll have to tell Delores what a good job she’s done,” Elizabeth said, smiling at Toby.

      “Am I supposed to call you Grandma?” Toby asked.

      “Yes, I think that’s what you should call me. Do you mind?” Elizabeth asked with more energy than she’d shown in months.

      Richard stared at his mother. She looked better already, a gleam in her blue eyes he hadn’t seen in a long time. He knew it would take time for her to regain her old self, but she was on her way. After all, she’d barely recovered from his father’s death eighteen months ago, when she’d learned of Susan’s death. Somehow, when he’d expected her to give up on life, she seemed to have found a new lease on it. Still, he’d have to keep a close watch on her to make sure she didn’t overdo it.

      When they finished their soup, Elizabeth rang her bell again and Louisa came in to remove their bowls. Albert followed with a large serving tray.

      Richard drew in a deep breath of roast beef perfectly cooked with attending vegetables. He smiled at Louisa. It was his favorite meal. “Thank Delores for me, Louisa.”

      “Yes, sir,” Louisa said with a grin.

      They were all enjoying their meal when Toby asked a question that got their attention. “Don’t you have a Christmas tree?”

      Elizabeth assured him they did. It was in the living room.

      “But I didn’t see it today.”

      “You may have missed the living room, dear. It’s the room by the front door. Some people call it a parlor.”

      “I don’t think we went in that room, Toby,” Molly said softly.

      “You would remember it if you saw it, Toby,” Elizabeth continued. “It’s silver with gold balls on it. It’s quite striking.”

      “No, Grandma, Christmas trees are green, not silver.”

      “Toby, some trees aren’t real,” Molly hurriedly explained. “They’re made out of other things.”

      Toby looked puzzled. “Why?”

      Molly looked at Richard, a clear plea for assistance.

      “Real trees are messy, Toby. Plus, if you have an artificial tree, you can reuse it every year.”

      “Is that good, Molly?” Toby asked.

      “For some people it is.”

      “I like green trees,” Toby asserted. Then tears glistened in his eyes as he continued, “Me and Mommy and Daddy decorated our tree with all our favorite ornaments.”

      Molly leaned over and whispered something in Toby’s ear and the little boy tried to wipe away the tears.

      “Mrs. Anderson,” Molly asked, “would there be a room where Toby could have a green tree this year? As a sort of memorial to his parents?”

      Richard spoke up. “My mother can’t—”

      “Yes, I think we could do that,” Elizabeth said at the same time.

      “Mother, I don’t think you can take on that task. It will be too much for you.”

      “It wouldn’t be, Richard, if you’d help.”

      The other two were sitting quietly, watching the conversation between him and his mother. Richard almost groaned aloud. He had too much to do as it was. But he could tell his mother wanted to make the effort for her grandson.

      “All right, Mother.