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Pinning a smile to her face, Cathy obediently sat. “I hope Jamie isn’t being troublesome.”
“Goodness, no. He’s been as good as gold, sitting there playing with those little wooden trains Delia found for him.”
“That was nice of her.” She could see that Jamie was totally preoccupied with the brightly colored trains.
“They were Adam’s when he was a boy,” Miz Callie said. “I remember when an addition to his train set was the perfect Christmas or birthday present for him. When he was about Jamie’s age, that would have been.”
She didn’t want to talk about Adam, because just hearing his name made her cheeks grow hot, and she feared Miz Callie would notice something. Still, she ought to keep Miz Callie talking about the family. Anything she learned might be of help. She firmly suppressed the qualms she felt. This was for Jamie.
“Such a sweet boy.” Miz Callie was looking at Jamie. “You must be proud of him.”
That took her so much by surprise that it took her a moment to react. “Yes, I am. You’d be surprised at the number of people who just want to pity him. Or me.”
“I’ve never been overly impressed with the wisdom of most people,” Miz Callie said drily.
That surprised a laugh out of her. She was beginning to see what it was about Miz Callie that had her children and grandchildren so devoted to her.
“They only see his disability,” Cathy said. “But he’s like any child, otherwise. A little naughty sometimes. Funny. Loving.” There was suddenly a lump in her throat.
Miz Callie nodded. “They can all be naughty, can’t they? I remember some of the things my grandkids got into. Land, what one of them didn’t think of, the others did.”
“They’re all close in age, Adam told me.”
Miz Callie nodded, a smile on her face that seemed to indicate she was looking back on those years when they were small. “Cole, that’s Adam’s brother, he was the worst for leading them into mischief.”
“Let me guess. It was Adam who led them back out again.”
“You’re very perceptive. That’s exactly right. How did you guess?”
She shrugged, a little uncomfortable at having the conversation turned to the person she didn’t want to think about right now. “He strikes me as being very responsible, that’s all.”
“He’s our rock, is Adam. It’s interesting that you saw that so quickly.”
She wouldn’t let herself be led down the pathway of talking about Adam. “I take it you were able to spend a lot of time with your grandkids, living here in the Charleston area.”
“It’s been a blessing having them so close most of the time. In the summers, they’d always come out to the island house to spend time with their grandfather and me. Those were the best times.”
“What did you do with them? It seems like a lot, all those kids.”
“It was a joy,” Miz Callie said. “And really, they did just what our kids had done as children. And what Richmond and I had done, too, summers on the island.”
Her image of the Bodine clan was growing, Cathy realized. Not an image of great wealth, no, but of a family that was comfortably off in a way that her family had never been.
What would a lawyer say, if she consulted one? Would Grandpa be entitled to anything from the family? It might depend…
“Jamie’s disability,” Miz Callie said gently. “I take it that’s something he was born with?”
The question was asked so tenderly that Cathy couldn’t muster her usual offended response. Besides, if she wanted their help, it would come at the cost of her privacy.
“He was born with spina bifida.” She kept her voice even. “There were some other abnormalities of his hips, as well.”
Miz Callie made a small sound of distress. “He’s had surgery, has he?”
“Several times.” She had to swallow before she could keep going, remembering how painful those times had been. And how brave Jamie was. “He’s in good shape now, in comparison. The last specialist he saw seemed to think one more surgery might be all it takes for him to walk.”
“That’s good news, surely.” Miz Callie gave her a cautious sideways glance. “The father isn’t a part of his life?”
“He walked out when Jamie was a few weeks old.” She hated the sound of the bitterness in her voice. “Grandpa said he wasn’t the type to hang around, and he was right.”
“Not a thing I’d be glad to be right about,” Miz Callie observed.
It took a moment for that to register. But Miz Callie had hit the nail on the head. Grandpa had been perversely pleased to be proved right. She didn’t like thinking that.
“You have to understand,” she said hurriedly. “I let him and my grandmother down when I quit school to marry. My education was their dream.”
“It’s always dangerous to have specific dreams for your children and grandchildren. Life so often takes them in another direction. I find I have to count on the good Lord to get them to the place where they belong.”
Cathy found she was looking at Jamie, tracing the line of his cheeks, the feathery hair around his ears. “It’s hard not to want specific things for our children.”
“Hard, land, yes. We always want to be in control, don’t we? I keep reminding myself that God knows better than I do what’s good for them.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t been able to do that.” Her prayers were more in the nature of storming Heaven for answers.
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