One dreamed. One watched. Grandma held them both.
The Best Part
Anna reached the best part of the story.
Lily had reached the best part of her nap.
Grandma Rose sat in her armchair with the younger child curled across her lap. One small hand rested beneath Lily’s cheek; the other lay on Grandma’s sleeve. Anna stood beside the little table, holding the book she had brought from home.
“The fox opened the box,” she read, “and inside he found—”
She stopped. Lily’s eyes were closed.
Anna looked at Grandma. “She’s asleep.”
“So she is.” Grandma smoothed a curl away from Lily’s forehead. “You chose a comfortable chapter for her.”
Anna looked down at the page. The fox was lifting the lid of a green box, and something golden shone through the crack. She had practised reading that sentence all week. It was the part she liked best, especially the word glimmered.
“I wanted her to hear what was inside.”
A Sleeping Listener
Grandma looked at the book. “I’d like to hear it too.”
Anna smiled, then lowered her voice. “The fox opened the box, and inside he found a—”
Lily shifted. Anna stopped at once.
After a moment, Grandma asked, “A what?”
“A—” Anna whispered the next word from behind her hand.
“A pear?”
Anna shook her head. “A key.”
“Ah. I thought the fox was going to have a snack.”
Anna moved closer to the chair and tried again. This time Grandma heard the key, but the next sentence was too faint. She leaned forward to listen, and Lily’s hand tightened around her sleeve.
“We might need another place for the reader,” Grandma said.
Anna looked at the space beside the chair. A stack of books stood between it and the little table. She moved the books carefully, but the arm of the chair still hid the page from Grandma.
Then Anna walked behind the chair and leaned over its back.
“Here?”
Grandma tilted her head. Anna’s cheek came close to hers, and the book rested where both of them could see it.
“Close enough,” Grandma said.
Over Grandma’s Shoulder
Anna read about the small golden key. It belonged to a cupboard at the end of the garden, where the fox kept things he had found on his walks.
“A very useful cupboard,” Grandma whispered.
On the next page, Anna showed her a picture of its shelves. There were feathers, smooth stones, a button, and a tiny blue cup.
Grandma pointed to the corner. “Is that a snail?”
Anna looked closely. She had read the page many times, but she had never noticed the little snail on the lowest shelf.
“Perhaps it’s visiting,” she said.
“Perhaps it lives in the cup.”
They studied the picture until Lily’s hand slipped from Grandma’s sleeve and came to rest on the edge of the page. Anna held the book still. Lily’s fingers curled around the paper without turning it.
“Shall we wait?” Anna whispered.
Grandma nodded. After a little while, Lily’s hand relaxed, and Anna gently lifted the book away.
The Page That Waited
Anna placed a ribbon between the pages. She could show Lily the cupboard and the snail when she woke.
Grandma stroked Lily’s hair. Anna stayed behind the chair, her arms around Grandma’s shoulders, and together they watched the afternoon light reach the edge of the rug.
At last Lily stirred. She blinked up at Grandma, then noticed the book beside the chair.
“What was in the box?” she asked.
Anna slipped around to her side and opened the book at the ribbon.
“A key,” she said. “And there’s something else on the next page.”
Lily sat up to look. The snail was still waiting on the shelf.
Livora Gracely ♥
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