Take a Walk With Me Read online

  “Grandma…you have a crush?” Cozy teased.

  Dottie smiled. “Of course, angel! Wouldn’t you if you were my age?”

  Cozy’s smile faded just a little. When her Grandpa Robbins had passed away seven years before, the family feared Dottie might follow him too soon. A deep, aching depression and loneliness had overtaken her grandmother. It was one reason Cozy had begun to visit her at least once a week—to remind Dottie Robbins how loved she was and to cheer her up. It had taken a couple of years for Dottie to return to some semblance of the woman she’d been before her husband’s death. Therefore, it was surprising to see her puppy-eyed over another man.

  Even so, Cozy felt her heart leap a little. It was wonderful to see her grandmother so rosy‑cheeked and excited. She thought for a moment that her grandma looked like a schoolgirl in that moment, blushing with the excitement of a new boy in the neighborhood.

  “Well? What’s his name?” she asked her grandmother.

  Dottie’s smile broadened. “Buckly Bryant…Buck for short,” she answered. “Isn’t that a wonderful name? It sounds like he just rode into town on a white horse, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it does,” Cozy agreed. “So you’ve met him then?”

  “Of course! I went over and introduced myself last Thursday while the movers were moving his things in. I swear, Cozy…he put my heart to hammering like a woodpecker!”

  Cozy giggled as her grandma placed a hand over her heart as if it were still hammering. “Well, good! You need a little romance and excitement in your life, Grandma.”

  “Do I?”

  Cozy nodded, noting the pink that rose to her grandma’s cheeks. “Of course! Everyone needs it…and you deserve it too.”

  Dottie glanced out the window once more—rather longingly—and exhaled a wistful sigh. “He is a tall drink of water, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is,” Cozy agreed.

  With one final sigh, Dottie turned her attention from the window and her handsome neighbor in his backyard to Cozy. “Well, as I said…I’ve got the meatloaf in the oven. We can put the potatoes on in about an hour. Meanwhile…” She paused, gleeful anticipation twinkling in her blue eyes. “Meanwhile, show me what you’ve made this year. I’ve been so excited to see the new ornaments! I could hardly wait. I almost snuck down to the basement last time I was at your house…but your father stopped me.”

  Cozy laughed. “Oh, Dad’s very protective about my ornaments,” she explained. “He doesn’t want the surprise ruined for anyone. Still, it’s not like they’re really any different than the ones I’ve made in the past.”

  “Cosette Robbins!” Dottie scolded. “That is simply not true. Why…every year they’re different. And I don’t know how you manage it…but they keep getting better and better.”

  “You’re my grandma. You have to say that,” Cozy said.

  “I am your grandma…but I’m sincere in my compliments.”

  Cozy nodded. “Okay then, come and see what you think.”

  Dottie rubbed her hands together like a silent-movie villain as Cozy went to the entryway and retrieved the basket of ornaments she’d brought. Returning to the kitchen, she set the basket in the center of the table.

  “Oh, I can hardly stand it. The anticipation is glorious!” Dottie exclaimed, sitting down in a chair and pulling the basket to her.

  Cozy sat down next to her and tried to hide her amusement in her grandma’s delight. She bit her lip, unable to hide her relief and pleasure as her grandma gasped when she opened the first little white box.

  “Oh, Cozy. It’s adorable! Simply too adorable for words,” Dottie exclaimed as she carefully took the small walnut cradle, complete with a mouse reading a tiny copy of “The Night Before Christmas” and tucked beneath a red flannel quilt. A miniature oil lamp on one edge of the walnut cradle and a tiny green nightcap for the mouse completed the scene.

  Again Dottie gasped with awe. “I love it, Cozy. Oh, I love it!” She picked up her reading glasses from the old lazy Susan that had lived in the center of her kitchen table for as long as Cozy could remember. “Oh, look at that! How did you ever paint the title on that book? And look at the little lamp. Oh, Cozy…I love it! I just love it. Just look at the stitching on the quilt! Oh, however do you manage to make the stitches so small? Oh, I love it. I absolutely love it!”

  Cozy smiled. She could tell when her grandma was sincere in her compliments, and she was certainly sincere. She felt relieved—and elated.

  “Well, if you like that one, then you should freak out over this one,” Cozy said, taking another box from the basket and handing it to her grandmother.

  Dottie paused and inspected the Cozy Robbins logo embossed on the box’s lid. “I have to admit, I’m kind of proud of myself for thinking of this—the two little birds…the two cozy robins.”

  Dottie giggled, and Cozy said, “You should be. It was very clever.”

  “And memorable,” Dottie added. “People remember it. Something this cute sticks in their minds.”

  “I know…and I’m glad.”

  Dottie reached out, cupping Cozy’s cheek with one hand. “I love you, sweet pea,” she said.

  “I love you too, Grandma,” Cozy said, taking her grandma’s hand in her own and squeezing it for a moment. “Now…see if you like the others.”

  “Oh, I know I will, sweetheart. I know I will.”

  Cozy sighed. She loved her grandmother so much! What would she ever do without her?

  ❦

  “So? Where did he move from?” Cozy asked, dipping a forkful of mashed potatoes into the melted butter puddle at the center of the far too large helping of mashed potatoes her grandmother had plopped on her plate.

  “The east side,” Dottie answered. “He said he’d always wanted to live in the valley, along the river. So when the opportunity presented itself, he moved. He lost his wife a few years ago and was having trouble with the blues, as he put it. He’s a retired firefighter.”

  “Wow! A real-life hero, huh?” Cozy asked, smiling.

  “Well, he sure looks the part!” Dottie giggled. “I swear, Cozy…I had butterflies in my stomach the whole time he was talking to me! For a minute there, I felt like I was seventeen and he was the proverbial captain of the football team, you know?”

  “I can imagine,” Cozy said. She smiled as she took a bite of meatloaf.

  “What?” Dottie asked.

  Cozy shrugged. “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

  “Thinking what? I know that look. You’re up to mischief, Cozy.”

  Cozy sighed. “I was just thinking that maybe Mr. Buckly Bryant will whisk you away on some romantic adventure. He looks like he’s a good kisser.”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake, Cozy!” Dottie laughed. “The things you come up with. What an outlandish thing to say!”

  But Cozy saw the merry twinkle in her grandmother’s blue eyes. She wished for a moment that her own eyes were blue. Cozy had her father’s hazel eyes, but she’d always wished they’d been blue. Still, she contented herself with being glad she had her grandmother’s chocolate hair.

  “It’s not outlandish,” Cozy argued. “He’s a hunk of burning love. You said so yourself. And you’re ravishing. You’d make a perfect couple.”

  “Now stop that teasing, Cozy Robbins,” Dottie playfully scolded. “You’re being ridiculous, and you know it.”

  “No, I’m not, Grandma,” Cozy argued. She paused a moment and then suggested, “You should bake him some of your banana nut bread and take it over—you know, as a housewarming, welcome-to-the-neighborhood sort of thing. Once he tastes your banana nut bread, you’ll have him eating out of the palm of your hand.”

  Dottie smiled and laughed a little. “You know, maybe I should.” She shrugged. “I mean, it would be the neighborly thing to do.”

  “It would be,” Cozy encouraged. “And I still say he looks like a good kisser!”

  “Cozy Robbins!” Dottie scolded. “Shame on you.”

  Still, Cozy co
uld tell by the blush rising to her grandma’s cheeks that she was thinking the same thing.

  “Grandma…I love your meatloaf and mashed potatoes,” Cozy sighed.

  “Thank you, darling.” Dottie placed a warm palm to Cozy’s cheek. Nodding to the small blue bowl of green beans on the table, she added, “And those are the last of the green beans from my garden for this year.”

  “They’re delicious,” Cozy assured her.

  “I know,” Dottie said, shrugging her shoulder with delighted pride.

  Cozy laughed. She felt as if she were caught in a moment of perfect wonder. Sitting at her grandmother’s table enjoying a supper of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans—it was peaceful, warm, comfortable, and relaxing. The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall was soothing, and Cozy sighed. It was a moment to cherish, as was every moment spent with her grandmother, and Cozy consciously committed it to memory.

  “I suppose women my age do still kiss, don’t they?” Dottie asked.

  “Of course they do, Grandma,” Cozy exclaimed. “If Grandpa were still here…wouldn’t you still be kissing him?”

  Dottie smiled a melancholy smile and whispered, “Yes. Definitely yes.”

  Cozy’s heart ached, knowing she may have caused her grandmother pain in provoking a memory of loss. “I’m sorry, Grandma. I only meant—”

  “I know, darling,” Dottie soothed, smiling. “And you’re right.” Her smile broadened. “Mr. Buckly Bryant does look like a good kisser.”

  Cozy giggled and took another bite of butter-slathered mashed potatoes. The cuckoo clock in the hallway announced six o’clock, and Cozy was glad the time was ticking by slowly. There would always be ornaments to make, bills to pay, and things to do, but there wouldn’t always be time with her grandma. At least she had that priority straight.

  “So are you dating anyone yet, honey?” Dottie asked.

  Cozy sighed. “I went out with Tristan Plummer last Friday.”

  “And how did that go?”

  Cozy shrugged. “Okay, I guess. But he’s so…so…”

  “Soft?” Dottie suggested.

  “Exactly!” Cozy confirmed. “Like I might expect to see him coming out of the nail salon with a new manicure or something. His hands are so…you know…”

  “Soft,” Dottie reiterated.

  Cozy nodded. “Yeah.”

  Dottie sighed. “I worry for you girls today, sweet pea. Masculinity itself is under attack, it seems. Society is forcing men from their natural, instinctive path. Men weren’t made to be cooped up in a cubicle unable to do anything physical. They were made to be hunter-gatherers, to work hard in body and mind. It’s hard for men these days…for women too. Femininity isn’t what it used to be either.”

  Cozy sighed, for she agreed—wholeheartedly. Yet what could be done about it? Society was what it was, and it certainly wasn’t going to let up.

  “Well, Mr. Buckly Bryant looks masculine enough,” Cozy offered.

  “Yes, he does,” Dottie whispered with a wink.

  “You definitely need to whip up a batch of your banana nut bread, Grandma,” Cozy giggled.

  “I think you might be right, sweet pea.”

  “Of course I’m right,” Cozy said, dipping another forkful of mashed potatoes into the butter well on her plate.

  ❦

  Later that night, Cozy sat in her bed, writing in her journal while tucked comfortably beneath a soft flannel quilt. She had had a productive day and a tranquil, wonderful evening with her grandmother. She was tired but truly content.

  Still, it seemed contentment never lasted long. Cozy’s bedroom door suddenly burst open, and the peaceful moment was shattered as her younger sister Ashley literally hopped into the room.

  “Can I borrow your pink sweater for tomorrow, Cozy?” Ashley asked.

  Cozy sighed, wishing she could have afforded to live on campus for one more semester at least. The lack of privacy in living at home was so frustrating sometimes. Still, she loved her home—and her family—even if her little brothers and sisters did drive her nuts.

  “I guess so, Ash,” Cozy answered.

  Ashley smiled and hurried to Cozy’s closet.

  “Why are you in bed so early?” Ashley asked. “It’s only ten.”

  “Why are you up so late? It’s already ten,” Cozy teased.

  Ashley smiled. “I’m totally nervous, that’s why! I don’t think I’m gonna sleep a wink tonight!”

  “Why’s that?” Cozy asked—even though she already suspected there was boy at the core of Ashley’s discontent.

  “Because Kaylee swears she heard Braden Lewis telling a friend that Dylan Hill is going to ask me to the winter formal tomorrow night. And if you want to know the truth…I’m totally freaking out!”

  “Because you want him to ask you or because you don’t want him to ask you?” Cozy asked—even though she already knew the answer.

  “You dork! You know I’m totally in love with Dylan Hill,” Ashley giggled.

  Cozy smiled. “I know you are, and I’m sure he’ll ask you…especially if you wear my pink sweater. It’s my good luck sweater.”

  “I know, huh?” Ashley giggled. “Thanks, Cozy,” she said.

  “You’re welcome,” Cozy laughed. “Now close the door. I’ve got the breakfast shift again tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Ash.”

  Ashley closed the door, and Cozy sighed. Setting her journal and pen on the nightstand, she turned off her reading lamp.

  “Wonderful,” she whispered, punching her pillow. “My sixteen-year-old sister and my grandmother have more exciting lives than I do.”

  Cozy closed her eyes and tried not to think of the mountain of ornaments she still needed to finish by the end of the week. She giggled then, however—smiled at the memory of the look of delight on her grandma’s face when Cozy had suggested that Mr. Buckly Bryant might be a good kisser. It had been a precious expression—purely precious! As she struggled to settle all the thoughts bouncing around in her head, Cozy found herself wondering if her grandma’s new neighbor really was a good kisser.

  Chapter Two

  “Oh! They’re so adorable, Cozy,” Mindy exclaimed. Cozy smiled when her friend gasped as she opened another box to view the delicately crafted ornament inside. “I mean, seriously…these are your best ones yet!”

  “Anybody can crack a walnut open and make them, Mindy,” Cozy said. “You’re so dramatic.”

  “I’m so serious!” Mindy assured her with further theatrics. “Maybe anybody can make a walnut ornament…but nobody can make them like this! If anybody could, you wouldn’t be raking in so much cash, and you know it.” Mindy’s smile broadened as she opened the next box. “Ooooh, I should’ve ordered more!”

  “No way, Mindy,” Cozy argued. “You’ve already spent way, way too much. I feel like a total loser for even taking your money.”

  “Hey!” Mindy said, wagging a scolding index finger at Cozy. “Knock it off! Girl, your ornaments are the best bang for the buck in town. You wouldn’t be burning the midnight oil so often if they weren’t.”

  “Well, if you’re happy with them…then I’ll try to deal with being a dumb walnut peddler,” Cozy giggled.

  “I love them, and you know it!” Mindy’s brow wrinkled, her lips pursing as she cooed, “Oooh, how cute! Look at the little teeny weenie lamb gazing at the manger. They’re so cute!”

  “And you’re so funny,” Cozy said, still smiling.

  “Did you give one like this to your grandma this year?” Mindy asked.

  “Yeah. She loved it! I think maybe it was her favorite of the ones I made for her.”

  “And look at the tiny little baby Jesus,” Mindy gasped. “Oh, Cozy…I love this one. Thank you so much!”

  “Thank you, Mindy,” Cozy said. “You’re always so supportive…and not just where my stupid ornaments are concerned.”

  Mindy looked to Cozy, her eyes twinkling with merriment.

/>   “I’m your friend, Cozy,” she said. “It comes naturally, right?”

  Cozy nodded. “Yeah.”

  Again Mindy looked to the boxes of ornaments sitting on the kitchen table of her apartment. “Seriously, Coze, these are great! I totally love them,” she said, tucking the nativity walnut back into its box. “So you’re going to your grandma’s tonight again?”

  “Yeah. I just need some space,” Cozy sighed. “You know I love my brothers and sisters…but I’m telling you, the boys are driving me crazy!”

  “Little brothers are like that,” Mindy agreed. “And with three little brothers, I’m surprised you’re not pulling your hair out. What are they up to now?”

  “Hidden video cameras in our rooms,” Cozy said, shaking her head. “They don’t think about what they might catch—you know, like Ashley or Mayree changing clothes and stuff.” She paused and giggled. “Though Tony did catch Ashley playing with her old Barbie dolls. He’s merciless in teasing her about it.”

  Mindy shrugged. “I still have all my Barbies. I get them out once in a while…just to make sure they’re okay.”

  “Me too,” Cozy agreed. “But you know Ashley. She’s at the everything-is-so-embarrassing stage. I even told her that I still get my Barbies out and that I think a girl should never completely give them up…but she still chased Tony around the house screaming at him and then cried for an hour.”

  “Poor thing,” Mindy mumbled with a pouty lower lip of compassion.

  “Who? Ashley or Tony?” Cozy asked with amused sarcasm.

  “But seriously…no woman should ever give up her Barbies. Not completely.”

  “I know,” Cozy said. “Still, I like the way they used to make them though—you know, when they had bigger busts and skinnier waists. I don’t care if it wasn’t realistic. I like the wasp-waist look the older Barbies had.”

  “Me too,” Mindy emphatically agreed. “And now the old clothes don’t fit the new Barbies, and the new clothes don’t fit the old Barbies. Man, they just jacked everything up when they changed her measurements.”