Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Very smart.”
“Thank you. I then pointed out that Elouise had already compromised on the venue at her insistence, forgoing the place she really wanted to keep the peace, and had even agreed to delay their honeymoon because her mother’s birthday is one week after the wedding.”
Nana pulled the Beatrix Trotter from the sink and wrapped her in a towel. “Is it a big birthday?”
“Nope, not even a milestone one.”
“The audacity. What did she say to you?”
“She hung up on me, actually.” I laughed, squeezing the teabags and dropping them on the saucer we used to collect them. “She called me back thirty minutes later, apologised, and agreed that she was perhaps being slightly unreasonable.”
“That’s an understatement,” Nana replied. “At least she apologised.”
“Indeed. We finished with her saying that she’s going to pay for their honeymoon to Barbados as their Christmas gift, and she’s going to insist they leave two days after the wedding instead.”
“She’s somewhat redeeming herself. I thought brides were supposed to be the nightmares, not the mothers.”
“You’d be surprised how many nightmare mothers and in-laws I deal with compared to brides. I’d rather deal with the bridezillas, honestly. At least they usually have people to tell them they’re being unreasonable, whereas people are much less likely to confront their parents about ridiculous behaviour.”
“You’re right. After all, ignoring her is how I dealt with my mother-in-law for twenty-five years,” Nana drawled, putting Beatrix down on the floor.
Beatrix ran across the tiles to the ceramic bowls by the radiator, then stuck her snout in the water bowl.
“Does she just live inside?” I asked, handing Nana her cup of tea.
“Yes. Where else is she supposed to live?”
“The—the barn,” I said slowly. “Like most other farm animals.”
She shook her head. “It’s far too cold out there for her. I’m almost done with her Christmas jumper.”
“You’re knitting the pig a Christmas jumper?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Look at her. She’s clearly cold.” She tilted her head to the side. “I just wish I knew where her antlers went.”
“Antlers?” I blinked. “Oh, they’re on the front seat of my car.”
“Why are they in your car?”
“I saw her on my way here. Her antlers snagged on the hedgerow when she got out of the road, so I grabbed them. I meant to ask you if you knew who the pig belonged to and, well, you made beef, so I forgot.”
Nana stared at me. “She keeps going on her jollies. I wonder if you can microchip a pig.”
“Perhaps we need to adopt you a cat for Christmas,” I said slowly. “That might be more your speed, you know.”
She sipped her tea. “Only if the cat and Beatrix will get along. I’m not abandoning my pig.”
The front door opened and closed, and Gramps appeared with a big shiver. “It’s bloody freezing out there!”
“I’ll make another tea,” I said, going back to the kettle. The water was still hot, so I quickly made a third cup and took it through to the living room where he was grumbling about almost being out of coal for the fire. “I’ll pick some up tomorrow,” I reassured him. “Is it still the same place?”
He shook his head. “Thomas’ father bought them out before he died. He moved the coal yard to the tree farm lot.”
I grimaced.
Not Thomas.
Nana caught my eye, and her lips twitched. “Are you still not over your childhood feud?”
I sniffed, taking a seat on the sofa. “I will never be over that.”
Gramps shook his head. “I don’t think he is, either. I heard you ran into each other earlier.”
This time, I made a weird noise that was somewhere between a grunt of amusement and annoyance. “Unfortunately.”
His chuckle was raspy, but that didn’t detract from the twinkle in his eye. “You know he’s single now.”
“And I’m done here.” I got up and walked out of the room, leaving my grandparents laughing behind me.
I wasn’t going to entertain that line of conversation from him.
But what did he mean by ‘now?’
CHAPTER FOUR – THOMAS
“Is it enough snow?”
I peered out of the window. “I don’t think it’s sticking yet.”
Danny huffed and dropped back away from the window. “I want to build a snowman.”
“Oh, you will.” I ruffled his sandy blonde hair, careful to avoid the cut on his forehead that was sure to leave a little scar. “The snow will stick before you know it. Remember last year?”
“No.”
I grinned. That wasn’t true. I knew he remembered because he’d asked every day if it was time to build a snowman, then when it was, he’d lasted ten minutes before he’d decided he was too cold and wanted to go inside.
It’d taken us three days to finish building his snowman.
“Sure, you do,” I said, scooping him up and tossing him over my shoulder. “You moaned and moaned and—”
“Uncle Tommy!” Danny shrieked. “Ahhhh!”
“What are you doing in here?” Mum asked, walking into the room. “Oh, Thomas, put him down.”