Enough to Miss Christmas

"Walk around in my underwear? Not yet anyway." I quickly regretted my candor. I'd have to watch what I say to this child who was very perceptive.

"Do you think 'pee' is such a bad word? There are some worse ones."

"Don't say them!" She seemed truly alarmed.

"I won't but where did you hear it? The same place you learned 'sucks' ?"

She grimaced. "You remembered that?"

"I remember everything about you and Timmy. You're both very important to me."

Karen gave me an I-don't-believe-you look but answered. "I heard Alf say it. He's a guy who helps Ranger, the gardener. And Mrs. Waterman says her job . . ."

"Sucks? Maybe her job does suck."

"There you go again, saying stuff like that!"

"Sorry. Like I told you; it comes from living around soldiers so long. You taught that word to Timmy, didn't you?"

"No! I wouldn't do that. I said it to myself and he happened to hear me."

"Do you talk out loud to yourself?"

"Sometimes. When no one's around I pretend out loud. I don't say swear words much. Is that how regular people talk all the time?"

"That's a tough question. Let's try and get you out around regular people a tad more so you can judge for yourself."

"I'm not sure I want to if they're all like you." She turned toward the window, and I could imagine her mind turning over these strange new challenges this oddball woman was introducing into her cloistered life. She and I both needed time to digest one another. I turned on the car radio as a diversion. We listened to oldies music in silence the rest of the way to God's waiting room at Maple Grove Manor. But first there was our rendezvous with my sister.

Our ancillary destination, Cabot's Café, was a tad more tired looking than I remembered, but I doubt the paint or furniture had changed in the years since I'd visited. Suzie, dressed in jeans and a wrinkled sweater, was chatting with a waitress when we arrived. She jumped up like a flea on a griddle and rushed to us, trying to embrace two in one hug. I laughed as I returned her squeeze while Karen stood paralyzed with no idea how to react. When the boisterous greeting and introductions subsided, my sister held Karen at arm's length.

"I'm Suzie . . . call me Aunt Suzie," she said. "Look at you! You're beautiful and how cool you're dressed! No purple hair or tats or spikes through your nose!"

Suzie ushered us to a table where we ordered sandwiches. I explained the reason for our unscheduled visit. Karen warmed to my sister who made a point to include her in the conversation. It was killing Suzie not to drag out the scoop of my budding romance but she managed to refrain from asking prurient questions in front of this enthralled minor. Suzie prodded Karen with questions and when Karen mentioned Timmy, Suzie described her twin grandsons.