With Crayons and Love (Romantic Suspense) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 9 - Wine

The morning had gone by quickly for Stella and I. I had finished the other two stocks of pottery by noon, and had taken them to the FedEx to ship. Stella and I had had lunch at an Italian deli, and I had made sure to buy a woven basket for the picnic I had promised her. We would have it tomorrow, because we had already eaten a good deal of spaghetti. 

I took her to the movie theatre to watch the latest cartoon film after we had eaten, and we arrived at the apartment building at around six in the afternoon. The daylight was nearing it's end.

"Will there be other kids at Aunt Rianne's house tomorrow?" Stella asked. 

"Yeah, there will be other kids. Our cousin Elise is your age, and her brother Jonathan is seven. There's also Margery, who's only three, and her brother Kyle who's ten."

"Oh, yeah. I've met Elise and Jonathan, but not Margery or Kyle. They came to my other house one time."

"Did you like them?"

"Ahuh. Elise and me played with my dolls, but Jonathan didn't want to," she said.

I laughed. "Well, I sure hope not. Jonathan will probably be hanging out with Kyle tomorrow, so he won't have to be bored when you girls play with the dolls."

"Can I take mine so that we can play?"

"Of course," I told her, and we stepped out of the elevator.

Stella was excited for tomorrow, because she would be able to socialize with someone her age for a change. My mother had called during our luncheon in one of her sporadic moments to tell me she would be hosting a small family gathering at her house, so that the Chicago part of our family would see Stella again, and a few relatives would even meet her for the first time. Never mind that it was a last minute invitation, and that people usually planned things in advance, because there was simply no such thing as "usually" with my mother. When she decided she would do something, she would do it, and in her own way. The word reasoning was not to be found in Rianne's vocabulary. 

She was quirky, erratic, and I loved her to pieces for being so happily crazy. 

Tomorrow would be fun, I thought. Imagining the Irish ceili, or dance, that we would most probably have. And the food. God, I couldn't wait to have some of Aunt Jillie's shepherd's pie and Uncle Ron's soda bread. Best stuff ever. It was nice to eat someone else's food for a change, and it was even nicer to eat food that wasn't made by strangers at a deli.

"What about you? What will you be doing?" she asked me as we walked down the hall.

"Me? Oh. I'll be stuffing my face, dancing, chatting, and drinking ale. Then we'll all gather around as Grandpa Liam tells his stories over and over."

"What's ale?"

"Something you can't have," I said, poking her nose with my finger.

"You can't have this either, Stella."

I looked up to find the source of the voice, knowing that it would be his. He was propped against my door, with a bottle of wine in his hand. He grinned at Stella as he tossed and caught the bottle, before settling his eyes on me. 

"What are you doing, Grant?" I asked incredulously.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm waiting outside your door with a gift." He grinned, his blue eyes alight with mischief.

"What is it?" Stella asked him.

"Wine, Stella. Lovely, glorious wine."

"How long have you been standing outside my door?" I asked.